Page 7 of Rude Boss' Secret Baby
Typically, cover letters are used to introduce oneself. However, I feel that my resume gives enough of an introduction. I’d like to point out why I’ve had so many jobs as of late in the hopes that it won’t count against me.
Fair enough, I’m curious myself.
Even with the rise of HR intervention in some businesses, there are men in positions of power that have very archaic notions when it comes to the role of women in their department. And I, for one, wasn’t going to stand for any of it.
Nice, nice. Progressive. I can support that.
So, in an effort to combat the ineffectiveness of how those men viewed my roles, any time one of them made a pass at me, I reported then to HR. Apparently, this wasn’t the “adult” way to deal with things, and I was either demoted—which led to me quitting—or fired outright.
“Fucking pigs,” I hissed.
That is why I’ve held so many positions. I refuse to quit reporting men who can’t keep their married—or single—hands to themselves, and I refuse to work in an environment where I don’t feel safe.
“Good for you,” I whispered.
I hope you enjoy the rest of my resume's contents with that point in mind, and I hope to hear back from someone soon.
L. Popovich
I liked her. I liked her so much that I raced back out of the conference room and stormed into my office. I slammed the door behind me before I practically bounded over to my chair, dropping as forcibly into it as I could.
And after pulling my desk phone toward me, I started placing some phone calls.
“Hello, this is Trey Cataline, and I’m calling on behalf of a resume that has your number attached to it.”
“Hello, Trey Cataline speaking, I was wondering if I could pick your brain about a former employee, Miss Leslie Popovich?”
“Hello, yes. My name is Trey Cataline, and I was hoping—ah, hello. A fan. Yes, I—I just—yes if I could—oh, you’re too kind. I appreciate it. Yes, uh-huh. Your boss, yeah. I just—thanks. Thank you. Yes, I’ll hold.”
After going down the list of all her references just to confirm what was in her resume, and after satisfying my curious urges, I pivoted toward my laptop. I plucked her email from her resume and shot off a message, asking her if she was free in a couple of days to come in for a preliminary interview.
Then, after sending the email, my eyes dropped to the corner clock on my laptop as it ticked over to six in the evening.
“Jesus,” I said with a sigh.
I’d been sitting at my desk in some form or another since five this morning, after a restless and sleepless night of bullshit. I raked my hands down my face and leaned back against my buttery-leather office chair as the silent sounds of my headquarters creaking around me kept me company. I closed my eyes and drew in deep breaths. I chewed on my lower lip as I gripped the arms of my chair. And after hoisting myself to my feet, I settled on the idea of getting a pre-celebratory drink in honor of my first interview to replace Joanne.
After all, what the hell else was I going to do after thirteen hours of work?
2
Leslie
Me: Are you sure I can’t pay you anything for this?
I shot the text off to Suri as I reached for the margarita I was nursing. Yet again, I had found myself at a bar when I should have been at home, making dinner for Aurora and myself. But, Suri had charged through my front door, demanded that I take the evening to myself again, and scooped my daughter into her arms before proclaiming tonight a “pizza and cartoon” night.
I had half-a-mind to stay there and enjoy it with them. But, after six months of putting in resumes and walking out of interviews with no callbacks, I needed a stiff drink.
Even though, my brain chanted a very harsh truth that was swirling around in the back of my thoughts.
You could be saving this booze money for more important things.
You and Aurora will be out in less than six months, and you’re drinking?
You could have at least brought your laptop to keep placing resumes.
Are you nuts? You need to be packing. Looking for a different place to live. Not drinking your time away, you idiot!
