Chapter 3: Ella

I walked into work with an odd mix of emotions pushing me along. On the one hand, I was elated because my time with the firm was over. On the other, Ian’s reaction last night had been ... less than ideal. I didn’t really know what to feel about that, so I did my best to focus on the job. I blew through the security checkpoint and wiggled my fingers at the security guard on the way.

Once I dropped my bag at my desk, I sidled up to Mark’s cube and tried to keep my expression neutral - and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy.

“So, ah, Mark ... about the Altria account...” I worked hard to sound how I usually did around him - apprehensive, quiet, demure. I’d learned a long time ago that Mark didn’t respond well to a confident female subordinate.

He looked up at me, boredom and arrogance written all over his face. “Concerned about the timeline, Ella? Well, I guess you’ll just have to put in some long hours. You know the drill.”

My reserve cracked a little bit, and the smile I’d been fighting to hide lifted one corner of my lips. “Ah, actually, Mark ... here.” I stuck the typed, overly formal and intentionally polite resignation letter right in his face.

He looked at me in confusion and then took the letter awkwardly, like it was going to grow fangs and bite him. He started reading, and as he moved down the page his eyebrows started going up ... and up ... and up. He finally looked at me, wild eyed.

“But Altria is due in three weeks! You can’t leave in two!” he wailed.

I simply shrugged.

“We’re the only data analysis firm in the state! You signed a non compete! You can’t even work in the industry for two years!”

I nodded. “Except that in Washington state, non-competes are unenforceable on employees making my salary.”

His mouth dropped open. “You’re going to Washington? Like what, Seattle?”

“Yes, Mark. What, hard to believe that a Big Three firm wants me?” I’d lost all pretense of being the little mouse, and the Cheshire grin was stretched wide.

He waved the resignation letter like if he shook it hard enough, it would disappear. “You can’t do this! We’ll fight it in court!”

This time I openly laughed at him. “You’ll lose, and Washington imposes the greater of a five thousand dollar fine plus attorneys’ fees, or damages plus attorneys’ fees. And it’s cut and dry, you’ll lose.”

“We’ll just see about that!” And with that, he stormed off, his direction a beeline for the HR offices.

I shrugged and walked back over to my desk. After a moment, I sat down, took a nice long look around, and started finding things to wrap up. It wouldn’t be a long wait.

HR wasn’t nearly as excitable as my old boss. The older woman, Rhonna something or other, was our ‘Director of People Management’. She had a paper in front of her on her otherwise immaculate desk and was clearly reading from a checklist. She began by outlining company policies. My email account was immediately restricted (no surprise there) and my security accesses were revoked. Again, big duh.

And that’s when things got ... interesting. My erstwhile employer usually dropped people like a hot rock when they quit; their philosophy was that a worker who’s resigned is a drain on morale, productivity, et cetera. They would try their best to pay out as little PTO as possible and forget the worker bee ever existed in the first place.

I could tell that’s what Mrs. Bigshot Director Lady was getting ready to do, and while I’m sure that plenty of other former employees weren’t exactly thrilled, it was exactly what I’d been hoping for. Then the phone on her desk started going off. She glanced at it, then at me, then muted it. She took a breath to start giving me the spiel again, and the phone came back to life immediately. She looked at it, annoyed this time, and stabbed the mute button with her finger. I gave her a forced smile; I’ve never been good at awkward situations.

“As I was saying, Ms. Ba...”

ZZZzzzRrring! ... ZZZzzzRrring! The phone blared out again for the third time.

That time I couldn’t help it; I laughed nervously. I felt my face flush, and it embarrassed the heck out of me. I wasn’t even in trouble! I was trying to leave, for goodness’ sake! Nothing these people did even mattered anymore!

Bigshot Director Lady gave me one of the most transparently fake smiles I had ever seen and muted the phone. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bates, clearly we’re not going to get any peace until I answer this. I’ll just be a moment.”

She picked up the handset and primly announced herself. “I’m sure this is extremely important, since I’m currently handling an employment matter?”

Then her haughty expression dropped from her face like a rock through paper.

“Ah, Mr. Olson, of course. No, I had no idea we intended to deviate from standard policy in this case. I’m so sorry, I wa-”

A blast of noise cut her off. She flushed, probably as red as I had been a few moments ago. Something told me she didn’t get chewed out in front of the peons very often.

“Yes, sir. I was informed-” Again, she was pelted with sound.

“Sir, I must protest-”

“Understood, sir. Apologies, sir. I’ll make sure to take care of it.” She laid the phone back into the cradle like it was something poisonous. The look she skewered me with was certainly nothing I’d done to earn, at least as far as I was concerned.

I doubted she cared what my thoughts on the matter were, though.

“Ms. Bates,” she began, her tone now downright frosty. “I’ve been advised that you are subject to a non-compete clause and cannot work in this field for a period of two years, regardless of any employment offers you may have received. Normally, when an employee subject to a non-compete resigns and is in otherwise good standing, the company does not care what you do, so long as you abide by the terms of the agreement. In this case, however, I have been ... instructed ... that we would like to overlook your attempt and retain your current employment status. Please keep in mind that the company is under no obligation to compensate you if you resign willingly.”

I smiled back at her. It was small, all lips, and it didn’t reach my eyes. I drew some paperwork out of my binder and passed it across to her. “Yes ma’am, I understand all that. However, the offer I’ve received is in Seattle; Washington state has very clear law on this matter, and non-compete clauses are unenforceable in the state of Washington on employees making less than one hundred thousand dollars annually. I believe if you review my file you’ll realize I do not meet that threshold ... at least here.”

The color drained out of her face. I was pretty certain I was handing this bitch the worst day of her professional life in quite a while.

“I ... I see, Ms. Bates. Please, wait outside so that I can review this.” She was clicking around on her computer, but I knew she’d find the exact same thing as what I’d printed out.

“Of course, ma’am.” I stood, collected my things and swished out.

I dropped my binder onto the chair in the waiting room and started tapping around on my phone, waiting.

And waiting.

... And waiting.

And waiting some more for good measure.

After my phone told me it had been forty five minutes (and not the five hours it had felt like) I finally got bored enough that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood, gathered my things, and went to knock at the office door when it unexpectedly opened in front of me; it startled both of us a little, and before she had had a chance to slip the polite, professional mask on I saw that she just looked tired. I hoped to God I didn’t look like that in twenty or thirty years.

The mask finally settled, and the momentary sympathy I’d had dried up with it. “Ahem, Ms. Bates ... please come in.”

I stepped inside, ready to go through this all over again. Clearly, this wasn’t as simple as I’d thought it was going to be. As I sat, she started droning again, and I thought we were going to really have to do this; I might just get up and walk out. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it. Then something she said finally caught my attention.

“ ... our rates are quite fair, I’m sure you’ll find. We’ll offer you a three month contract at a one point five multiplier to your current salary.” The look on her face was pure bored professional.

“I-I’m sorry, please repeat that?” I stammered. Had she really just offered me a consulting gig?

The annoyed look was back on her face. “I said, we’d like to extend you a partnership contract for a period of three months, to ease the transition out of your current accounts. The rate would be one point five times your current salary.”