Chapter 122: Meet and Greet for Gala's Sake

Charlotte The way she said it, with that patronizing tone, made my blood boil. I knew she was trying to undermine me, to make me doubt myself. But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Kathy, Kathy, Kathy. It had suddenly occurred to me that she was the master—or dare I say, mistress—of passive aggression, or was it that word again? Microaggressions. I’d heard it sometimes in college, but it was barely registering now. Kathy was the master of microaggressions, it would seem. “Kathy,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “I’m confident in my work. If you think there’s an error, I suggest you take it up with finance.” Her eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, the mask slipped. “Maybe I will,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “But I suggest you double-check your work next time, just to be sure.” I didn’t have a chance to respond before she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving me standing there with the report in my hand and a knot of anger in my chest. I took a deep b