The Bet

"Kiara Davis,"... I say, answering the phone, not even looking at the caller ID. I've learned it's best to respond like I'm a somebody than a nobody.

"I've found you a temp job. But you have to be there in 45 minutes. Can you do it?"

I roll over and look at the clock 6:15 am, and I'm still not out of bed, and I look a hot mess, but I need this job.

"Yeah, no problem," I say as I jump out of bed, going straight to my closet.

"Where is it, and what will I be doing?"

"It's at Jones enterprise. And you'll be Mr. Jones's secretary. So when you get there, tell the front desk that Rebecca sends you, and they'll give you a pass to get up the elevator. This job should last you three months. The regular secretary has been put on bed rest, so she'll be out for a while." I find my best skirt and shirt, throw them on, and go straight to the bathroom to put my makeup on and fix my hair.

" Thank you, Rebecca. I tell her. She's been the one to find me temp jobs the last four times. So she's been a big help. I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it. Just be nice is all I ask." She also knows I have a slight temper.

" I will be on my best behavior." I'll try to be anyways.

She laughed on her end a little and told me to hurry up. I've learned to put my makeup on and fix my hair pretty fast cause sometimes these temp jobs, you get the call right before you're supposed to go in. So I've learned you shower before bed every night that way, when you get that call in the morning, you can jump up and go.

I grab my keys off the table, grab my knock-off MK purse and run out the door. I still have twenty minutes to get there, and traffic downtown is horrible. So I'm going to be pushing it.

I pull into the parking lot with six minutes to spare. I check my makeup in the mirror. "You've got this. They might be richer than you, but they're not better than you." My granny always told me that growing up. It doesn't matter how much money you have; if you're a mean person and rich, then you're a mean person and rich. If you're a nice person and rich, you're a nice person and rich. I might be a poor person and friendly, but to me, I'm richer than any of them will ever think about being. I close the visor and climb out of my beat-up 2002 Blazer my Dad had left me a long time ago and lock it up. It might not be worth much, but someone could still steal it.

I round the front of the building, slowing down when I see the doorman and smile. I go to the counter, get my pass. I see many others going to different elevators, and I seem to be the only one getting into this one. I push the top floor and wait to reach my destination. I look at my phone one last time before the elevators door opens, and I have two minutes left. I'm relieved that I'm not late.

Well, I thought I wasn't late; the doors slide open, and I can see people already at their desks, and it seems like they've been there for a while. I walk up to one of the women sitting and ask where Mr. Jones's office is, and she barely looks up and points to the back of the room. This should be a great three months working with all these people. I turn from her and make my way to the back. I was about to knock on the door when I heard some yelling inside. I decided against knocking. I sat my purse down on the desk, looking at the schedule for the day, and noticed that the day had started at six this morning. So I was late.

The door behind me flies open and outcomes someone dressed like security. I watch him storm off for a second before a loud voice booms at me from behind. "Who are you?" I turn around and look at the man standing at the door. This must be Mr. Jones. I stand and walk over to him with my hand extended to him.

"I'm Kiara Davis, sir, and I'm your temp." He looks me up and down and stares at my hand. He didn't reach out and grab it, but he motioned to follow him into the office.

"Which one sent you?" He asked, sitting down at his desk. He reaches up and adjusts his tie, and grabs his coffee. He looks at me expectantly before he takes a sip and sits it down. The way he stared at me was like he could use me as a doormat and never even flinch about wiping his feet on my face.

"Rebecca sent me. I promise you I'm as good as any other secretary you have out there." I tell him, pulling my shoulders back slightly more, so I'm standing taller. I might only be five foot three, but I can be fierce if I have to be.

"You don't look like it." He said, looking down at the tablet on his desk. You know when you meet someone, and you know they're an a**hole. Yeah, Well, this is that person.

He was gorgeous, and I could see how women would fall at his feet, but I am not that woman.

I stand there and stare at him. I cock my head over to one side and look at him, you know, actually, look at him. He looks tired, worn out, like he has to act this way, or people won't respect him. He notices me staring at him and smirks at me. "Do you need an invitation to go to work?" He asked. "No, I was just trying to figure you out."

With that said, I turn and leave the office and go to my desk. I never saw him leave the office, but I wasn't at my desk every second of the day either. I worked just like I promised him I would. I took calls and took notes, and I did the work that the secretary had left for me to do. She even gave me a list of things that I needed to do every day to improve the work environment.

I went around and asked some of the other women exactly where everything was. I made sure I made a couple of copies of the list just in case I lost one. I wanted to be good at my job; any tips will always help me with future employment. I stayed late that night to make sure I had the morning things done so when I came in, I could present and go on with my day. I got back to my apartment around 8:30 and made myself some Ramon noodles before getting ready for bed.

I was at work the following day at 5:30; if I were the boss's secretary, I needed to be prompt and ready to go. I watched as everyone came in and took their seats to get ready for work. I watched as Ethan walked in and how much he didn't respect any of his workers. He didn't acknowledge them or try and be friendly with them. That's no way to have your business. He made his way to my desk, and I stood up, ready to give him his morning schedule.

" Well, you're actually on time today," He said before he walked into his office. I followed him in the room to give him his reports and schedule. I hadn't spoken to him yet because obviously, he wouldn't have listened to me anyway. He went over the information I had done the night before on the potential companies they were looking at investing in. "What is this?" He asked, holding up all the research I had done. " I motioned my hand to the research I had worked so hard on. "I saw you were going to be meeting with some of these people today, and I just thought I would do some research for you." As I'm talking, he's frowning while flipping through the papers. "Don't you think I know who I'm meeting with?" He said as he threw them in the trash. "You do your job. I don't need your help to do mine."

I shook my head at him and turned around to walk to the door. I opened the door and started to walk out; before I got out of the door, I said. "You know people that actually care about their employees would have said thank you."

I went on with my day, trying to stay out of his way. I saw him come out of his office a few times. I watched how he treated everyone. They were all beneath him; he treated them like they were all replaceable. Listening to some of them in the break room, they don't feel appreciated. Many of them don't want to work here, but where exactly will they go? Most places aren't hiring; that's why I have temp jobs. What started bothering me was when he started in on the mail boy. He was in his way, and he told him about it in front of everyone on the floor; he treated him like he didn't need to breathe the same air as him, and he wasn't going to anymore; he fired the kid before he got back to the elevator.

I finished my day out, and I didn't stay late this time—no sense in wasting my time doing things that won't be appreciated. I had already gotten everything ready for the next day, and as soon as 5 o'clock came, I was hitting the elevators like everyone else, and I did this every day for the next two weeks.

The more I thought about how Ethan treated people, the angrier I got about it. I've worked for plenty of big shots. I was good at my job, that's why Rebecca always calls me first when she gets a good job. It looks good if she sends someone capable of doing their job. But never once have I ever worked for someone like this guy. I looked into the bonuses he gives himself.

Just last year, he got a little over twenty-eight million in bonuses. The highest he gave anyone in bonuses was his VP, which wasn't even close to a million. Everyone else on the floor got anywhere between five hundred to maybe a thousand. I mean, a bonus is a bonus. But this man makes ten times his bonus in a year, so why not spread that throughout his company to help out his workers. While I'm running all this through my head, I'm trying to get everything dusted and cleaned. Cleaning always makes me feel better, and this job is just aggravating me.

This time when I got to work, I was there five minutes before six—no need in trying to be an overachiever if it's not going to be recognized. Ethan wasn't here yet anyway. I went to the break room, put my pork chops in the fridge from the night before, and made my way to my desk. I watched as everyone took their seats. Not one of them looked happy about being here. Ethan came out of the elevator and stopped in front of the room. "Alright, listen up, we just signed a new deal, so I need all of you to work over tonight to get this contract done and go over everything to make sure everything is perfect." He walked right by me, and in his office, he shut the door, and that's when I heard everyone in the room. "I wish we got overtime." One man said. "I'm going to miss my daughter's birthday party." Another woman said. " I had concert tickets for tonight." And things went on and on from there. People were missing ball games with their kids; some were missing engagement parties. And none of these people were getting overtime. I looked at the wages for this department; there are perks to being the CEO's secretary; I broke down how much they made an hour, and at most, it was fifteen dollars after the overtime. But they were all salary. If they were getting fifteen an hour and getting paid time and a half, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. But as it sits right now, they could go to any other business and make more if these other businesses were hiring, and I guess that's when my give a sh*t meter ran out. I got up from my desk without even knocking. I opened the door and went into Ethan's office. He was on the phone, so I sat down in the chair in front of his desk and waited for him to get off. The looks I was getting strictly said I was not wanted, but my care meter was zero, so I sat legs crossed and leaned back in my seat with my arms crossed, waiting.

It took some time for him to get off the phone, and when he did, he looked up at me. "That was an important phone call." He said. I shrugged and sat up in my chair. " I didn't interrupt you." He set his pen down on his desk and sat back in his chair. I could see the muscles working in his jaw, so I was already aggravating him. "What do you want?

"Would you know how to survive without your fortune?" I ask him. He leaned forward in his seat, looking mad, and I mean, I would be angry too. I sounded like I was threatening him.

"I don't mean it as you're going to lose everything. What I mean is." at this, I lean forward too because I can see on his face that what I said to him has hit a nerve with him.

" Have you ever been broke? Have you ever had to go without a meal because you needed that money to keep your lights on? I haven't been here but a few days, and I can tell that you have never once said a thank you to the little guys in your company.

Do you know all the little guys that help hold everything together in the workplace?

They are the ones that work for very little money and twice as many hours as you don't get paid enough to make it through most months.

Yet they do their jobs to perfection because they can't make you mad, so they take being talked down to, downgraded, made to feel like they are nothing. Because if they fail you, they won't have a job anymore. With the times that we live in right now, jobs are few and far between, so they take the low pay, and they take your bullshit, and they deal with it because to most of those people at the bottom of the totem pole means if they will have electric on next week or food for their family."

I stand up and make my way to the door. I turn around and can see the shock on his face. " I will be out here answering the phones until you come out and fire me. Think about what I said. Have you ever really thought about all those people that you take for granted? Have you ever been in their shoes? Because honestly, I don't think you could make it living on what they make, and the deal that you so graciously made could have given them some warning that they would need to work overtime. Most of them have a life outside of work. You do not hang the moon, Mr. Jones, and I promise you that every one of those kids and families that are going to have to celebrate or do a ball game or something important will not forget that mom or dad had to choose work over them" I opened the door and turned back around. "Just because you think that you are better than them doesn't give you the right to treat them the way you do. You could consider emailing everyone and telling them that since it was last minute that they can leave and go home at their regular time, and they can finish what work they have in the morning."

My day ended, and I made my way home. I never saw Mr. Ethan Jones anymore. He must have slipped out while I was away from my desk. I was shocked he didn't fire me on the spot, but he surprised me by not doing that. I stopped at the store, got their discounted hamburger meat. I made some hamburger patties, brown gravy, and mashed potatoes enough to last a few days.

It was around 8 when someone knocked on my door. I opened it with the chain still on the door, and there stood Ethan. What in the world. Did he just now get the guts to fire me? Why wouldn't he call Rebecca?

I just stood there frowning at him.