The man behind the desk, at war with the artistic elegance of his surroundings, looked like a 3-D Jackson Pollack painting -- bald head, but hairy body (I could tell from the chest hair sneaking up and above the opening of his polo shirt). His clothing was wrinkled, ink on his hands, and what looked like a large piece of pepper in between his teeth.
This man was the big cheese. Somehow, I found it annoying to know that this guy was running one of the most successful design houses in town and he was a complete slob.
"Let's not make a bigger deal out of this than it is." He spoke to the file on his desk.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Your file," he said.
"I didn't know I had a file." I squirmed in my chair.
"Everybody has a file."
"Do you have a file?"
"No, " he said without apology. He closed the file with authority and looked at me."You've made a serious accusation here." I wanted to reach over with a giant toothpick and pull that piece of oregano out of his mouth. "L'Atrice isn't one of our top designers for nothing. She's been around a long time. She's survived all the trends and fads."
"That was my sketch..." I interrupted.
"Don't interrupt me! Do you think she's stayed around by stealing other people's designs? No! L'Atrice has survived because she's talented and creative and smart. You expect me to take your word against hers?"
"Well. Yes..." I mean, what else was I gonna answer?
The big, moldy cheese shook his head. "Your young, you may even have talent. L'Atrice seems to think you do. So does Thea. But you're not going to make a lot of friends by randomly accusing your colleagues of stealing your designs without proof."
I wanted to reach over with a giant hammer and give this guy a bonk in the head. But instead, I sat there. Simmering.
"You should be thankful," he continued. "If it were up to me, I would have fired you on the spot."
"But what?" I asked.
"They stuck up for you. L'Atrice and Thea. They put their neck out for you. So you can keep your job. Work with L'Atrice. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from her."
You had to be kidding. L'Atrice stuck up for me???? I couldn't believe it.
"But what about my design?"
He took a deep breath and looked at me like I was a tadpole. "Look, you have an opportunity here. I suggest you take it. But if you want to continue with your accusations, then you're free to walk out of this company."
I crossed my arms, tapped my foot, and thought about my rent.
