Secret Bar Bet Reveals Promotion-PART 5

From a bookstore, Sebastian chose a bar hidden underneath them, and the low lighting and mood of the place suggested something secret often occurred.
Ava turned up three minutes late and saw him seated at a booth, two old-fashioned on a table. Old fashioned. Of course.
“You look startled,” he said with a nonchalance push on his way.
“I thought you’d be the match-frugal resume-stuffer.”
“I contain multitudes.”
She smiled despite herself.
They clinked glasses.
For a moment there, they were both silent.
She thought, “So, what is the true reason you had me here?”
He sipped his drink. “Because you were right. And, I hate that it took a crisis to make me say it”.
She tilted her head. “Admit what?”
“That I respect you. And that I’ve been… more dismissive than required.
Ava arched an eyebrow.
“I wanted to make things as businesslike as possible,” he replied.
“My tolerance broke as soon as I noticed you complaining about my fonts.”
His true laugh made a part of her melt and become lax.
“But I wanted to tell you about another thing as well,” he said, getting suddenly serious. There’s going to be a spot opened at the strategy team”.
Her heart thumped.
“What kind of opening?”
“A promotion. Associate Creative Strategist. I don’t quite know when it goes out there but I know you feel you’re ready. I think you should apply.”
Ava blinked.
“Wait, really?”
“You’ve earned it. Honestly, you bring some specifically needed viewpoints to the roundtable.
She looked at him, expecting to catch an ulterior motive. “Is this a peace offering?”
“No. It’s a bet.”
“A bet?”
“I’m betting on you.”
She gasped in surprise at the importance of what he was saying.
She smiled. Okay, if I’m in, let’s find out how this works.
On Monday, it was known to all that Noah’s transfer had been kept under wraps till today. Nadine exploded with the good news.
“Noah has been reassigned to Compliance,” she said while sipping coffee. “Compliance. He’s in the process of compiling documents to meet data privacy requirements.
Ava stopped, not hoping to choke on her croissant.
“Did he say anything?”
“That was only because he needed a ‘fresh challenge.’<< That’s code for shuffling one out of the company.
Ava didn’t gloat.
Much.
>>While Sebastian slumped back into his trademark professional coolness.<< No drinks. No chats. All he ever did was give a casual nod or share a Google Doc once in a while.
But on Thursday, Clara barged into the kitchen, phone stretched out at arm’s length as if it were carrying radiation.
Clara threw the phone to Ava, pointing frantically, “Come see this; it’s in the hallway.”
Ava saw Clara’s screen as the latest anonymous office tea post of an influencer appeared.
The caption read:
Anonymous Tip: A reportedly powerful exec at a New York City agency was purported to have claimed credit for junior staff ideas to advance his career, only to be brought down due to the workings of a perceptive staffer who supplied receipts. The twist? Now she’s in the talk as somebody’s girlfriend of his boss.
Ava’s blood turned to slush.
“Oh. My. God.”
“It’s everywhere,” Clara said. “It’s being spread and believed as incontestable fact. ”
“Was Noah the source behind the tip?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised. He’s seeking revenge, and he’s the common denominator in a viral post.
Ava ran her comb through her hair, being instantly self-conscious. “This is bad. They will hear it as me doing underhanded things for a raise if it reaches them.
“Then we go the offensive,” Clara suggested. “Control the narrative. Do you want to know whether I should send out your résumé to Fast Company?”.
Ava barked a laugh. “Not yet.”
But she could feel that a split was forming.
⋆｡°✩
The next day, HR called her in for a discussion.
“Just a check-in,” they said.
But there was something not quite right about the air in the room.
The smiling reigning in the meeting especially widened.
“There have been some rumors about the team internal dynamics,” she noted. We’re not assessing any rumors at this point. However, we must create a professional atmosphere.
“It is,” Ava said quickly. “Every action I undertake, is carried out professionally.”
The woman nodded slowly.
“Perhaps we should retain any staff moves until times calm down.”
The promotion was a dud from the get-go, lost amid the fog.
Ava left the office early.
She ignored her inbox. Ignored the Slack pings. Skipped to Sebastian’s text that read only:<< We should talk.
She chose the F train into the city, lagging for a while until she found a bench on Washington Square Park with nothing but a stale bagel and a portion of self-detestation.
Clara called her.
“Would you like to air your feelings into non-existence?”
Ava said that she was sitting here with the squirrels, and she was observing a squirrel foraging for loot under a tree.
“You okay?”
“No. But I’ll fake it.”
There was a pause.
“I am irritated by the way people tend to pick the most ruinous version of events when it comes to a woman’s story.”
“I know.”
“And that men also get forgiven much more swiftly.”
“I know.”
Speaking of, bagels ought to be toasted. That’s not controversial, just true.”
Ava laughed despite herself.
She realized she had to be the architect of people’s perception of her. “But I don’t know how.”
”Start with the truth,” Clara responded. And then you let your side be heard more effectively.
⋆｡°✩
In early Monday, Ava was the first ever to grace work.
She arrived on Monday decked in a solid blazer and daring earrings, which indicated a war was brewing.
Then, she wrote a blog post for the company’s internal site.
Title: “Recognizing the right people: A guide to authenticity and creative authority.”
She didn’t name names.
She didn’t point fingers.
But she told her story about her experiences. The spirit of promoting one’s ideas. To have them lifted. To be polite despite daunting challenges. And how a real, common sense of ownership, achieved through work and teamwork, was better than casual fame or idle rumors.
The number of views for the blog post had reached 300 by noon.
By 2 p.m., the Head of Strategy chimed in with a comment:<< This is what we require of leadership in the future. More, please.”
A meeting request appeared in the inbox for Ava by 5 o’clock.
Subject: Creative Strategist Interview
From: S. Fairfax
He started himself off in a meeting place with glass walls specifically for absolute honesty and no chicanery.
He said to her, “I read your post”.
“I figured.”
“I thought it was... brave.”
She folded her arms. Did you even need to ask whether it’s okay or not anymore? Should I get their blessing or not?”
He almost smiled. Almost.
He said, “I didn’t want our story to go into the news.” My desire was for you to be heard.
“You could’ve said something sooner.”
“I thought I had time.”
Their eyes met for quite a long time.
He added, “If you are not ready, then you do not have to take the interview.” I’d understand.”
She hesitated.
She blew out air, “I want this job,” she said finally. “But I want to decide on my path to do it.”
“You’ll have it.”
She nodded.
She announced, “But – let us not begin dating again now.” Not right now.”
He met her gaze.
“Agreed.”
“But if in six months I secure a great idea, I’ll settle on dinner as payment.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
Later that night, after the meeting, Ava collected Clara at the loading dock where they’d spent so many evenings in canned conversation.
This time, they had champagne.
She caught her glass and said, “To Ava”. “Breaker of tropes. Wielder of words. Champion against boys with slicked back locks who were always.”
Ava laughed and bumped glasses with Clara, and then she looked up at the stars.
She hasn’t felt like this for weeks.
Still a little bruised. But unbroken.
And finally, she was the one making the call in her life.