Chapter 4: Desperate Measures
Leah
“Leah. My office. Now.”
Wendy’s barking had become relentless. Everything was wrong. The font in Leah’s email signature? “Too low-rent.”
Her desk? “Too neat,” which, somehow, meant she wasn’t working hard enough.
Her tone ordering sushi? “Not assertive enough.”
Even the way she looked at Wendy while she was talking.
Leah hesitates in the doorway, hating herself for it—the powerlessness. For the simple fact that every time Wendy shouted her name, she came, like some loyal golden retriever, no matter how small the demand. Even the way Wendy used her name—
Leah, do this. Leah, do that.
It was its own method of control. Like it signaled ownership.
“These storage files are a mess, Leah. Convert everything to PDF, re-upload to Dropbox, and organize it properly. Okay, Leah?”
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“Of course, Wendy.”
“Don’t use my name, please. A simple yes would’ve sufficed.”
Leah almost laughs. The gall of this woman. “Anything else?”
“Actually, yes, Leah. Alphabetize those first.” Wendy gestures lazily toward a precarious stack of contract files teetering on a high shelf.
“Of course.”
Leah reaches up, barely catching the stack before one folder slips and crashes to the floor.
Wendy leans back in her chair, eyes lit with quiet satisfaction. “Gosh, Leah. You’re not too overwhelmed… are you?”
“No. Not at all,” Leah says, glancing up as she crouches to gather the mess of papers. “Why would I be?”
But the truth is, there’s only so much she can take. Ever since Felicia Mercer was “put on pause,” Wendy’s behavior had spiraled into a daily gauntlet of abuse. It was like Felicia’s downfall had emboldened her, like Felicia had been NDA’s watchdog, and now, with her out of the way, Wendy had carte blanche to go full-blown tyrant.
It made Leah wonder: did Wendy have something to do with Felicia’s ouster? Was she behind the Variety takedown piece? Was she out to get Leah now, too?
“I’d just hate to think I’m not keeping you sufficiently challenged,” Wendy says, gaze raking over her.
Leah rises, clutching the thick stack of files to her chest. “I can handle it.”
“Good. I’ll have a few more things for you later. Nothing too complicated.”
Leah turns to leave, but Wendy’s voice slices in. “Oh, and Leah?”
Leah pauses. Turns.
“Triple-check the staff meeting notes from this morning. We can’t afford another oversight.”
“Yes, Wen—” She catches herself. “I mean, yes. Right on top of that.”
A slow, sadistic grin spreads across Wendy’s face. “Thanks, Leah. I so appreciate it.”