More Money. Even More Work.
On Monday morning I walked to the office. The cold bit into my face and crept up through my wrists all the way to the back of my neck. I dug through my bag to see if I’d packed my gloves after all, but just as I suspected, they were nowhere to be found. I hate gloves. I shoved my hands as far into my pockets as I could, but the wide tailored sleeves of my wool coat weren’t exactly designed for that. At least it made me walk a little faster. Cardio counts even before thirty.
Three of my colleagues and I reached the entrance of the office building at the same time. By the time we got up to the sixth floor, feeling had finally started returning to my fingers. Since none of them were involved in the telecom project, I didn’t share the news. Besides, let the boss announce it. She’d take the credit for it anyway.
Brigitte was standing by the reception desk in an unusually bright pink short dress and white knee-high boots, looking like a roller-skating Barbie — except her platinum-blonde hair was a little shorter. The light was already on in Thessa’s glass-walled office. She herself was waiting for us in the meeting room, standing at the end of the oval table with champagne and macarons, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Her thick reddish-blonde waves fell over her shoulders, freshly styled, and her green catlike eyes were practically blazing.
We had barely hung up our coats in the six-desk open office when Brigitte stepped out of the kitchenette carrying a tray loaded with champagne flutes. The next moment Thessa popped the cork.
“And the twins?” I asked.
Thessa raised her glass.
“They quit,” she announced with far too much enthusiasm.
The glass slipped in my hand. I had to catch it with my other one to keep it from falling.
“They what?”
Thessa shrugged.
“It happens. We’ll manage without them.”
The others immediately started murmuring. Thessa, as if suddenly remembering she was the boss and should probably choose her words more carefully, cleared her throat theatrically and looked around at us.
“Okay, I didn’t plan it this way either, but there’s always a solution.”
The other three translators froze when they heard that. The tension in the room was almost physical. We knew Thessa far too well. None of the others had agreed to join the telecom project—only the twins and I had. They were terrified she’d try to force them into it.
Our boss stood there for a long moment, staring ahead as if enjoying the tension in the room. She pursed her lips, pretending to think it over. As if we didn’t know that act by now. By this point Thessa wasn’t just done brainstorming—she’d already made the final decision.
“Okay,” she said suddenly. “First of all, let’s toast to success—and to the money we’re going to make on this job. Everyone’s Christmas bonus will come from this.”
She emphasized the first word meaningfully.
Brigitte raised her crystal glass with exaggerated enthusiasm, Thessa with a devilish gleam in her eye, and we translators with uncertain smiles.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out what Thessa really had in mind. This time she didn’t call me into her office. Instead, she shut the meeting room door behind us. I think she does that because she’s afraid the others might read her lips. She’s projecting, of course. That’s exactly what she’d do if someone were having a private conversation in a glass office.
“Take over the twins’ part of the project.”
“Thessa, come on…”
“Oh, Emily, let’s be honest. The twins weren’t exactly great. They worked painfully slowly.”
“That may be, but if someone else does it, that’s one less thing on my plate.”
“Listen, I went through the whole project last night. One person can handle it. With a bit of overtime…”
“A bit of overtime? That’s the work of two people.”
Thessa started drumming her fingers on the table. Her steel-blue nails rattled against the polished wood like a little clapper. Her whole body seemed ready to burst with restless energy.
“Don’t do this, Emily,” she said, her voice thick with excitement. “Think of it like exam season—except you get paid a lot of money for it. You’ll get their salaries for the duration.”
I pitched forward. My forearms hit the table with a dull thud, my chin nearly following.
“What?”
Hope flashed in Thessa’s eyes. She sucked in her lips until they almost disappeared, then leaned back confidently in her chair.
“Sounds better now, doesn’t it?” she asked, regaining her composure.
Her hand rested calmly on the armrest. Meanwhile I started shifting in my seat.
“But how do you even imagine this working? You can’t just—”
“I’ll handle that,” she waved it off. “A little bonus here, a little reward there, and there are a few cash invoices sitting in the bottom drawer.”
I buried my face in my hands. I didn’t want her to see what the thought of triple pay was doing to me.
My toes started tapping uncontrollably inside my boots. No matter how I looked at it, it was a hell of a lot of money.
I couldn’t help picturing the bathroom I’d been meaning to renovate. The double sink I’d seen at the furniture store the other day. The heated towel rack with adjustable temperature. Those gorgeous faucets…
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
“Give me a day,” I said, breathless.
I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see the triumphant grin on her face.
I hurried out to the kitchenette and took a long pull straight from the champagne bottle.
That same evening I called an emergency meeting of my personal crisis committee to thoroughly discuss the pros and cons. Honestly, I’m not even sure what I expected.
Mark and Sofia looked at me with completely blank expressions as I explained my dilemma: a lot of money for a ridiculous amount of work, or decent money for a manageable workload. But for an IT guy who regularly loses all sense of time and a veterinarian who takes two night shifts a week, overtime and high pay are just part of life. They couldn’t even understand what I was agonizing over.
Neither could Adele—though she approached the problem from a completely different angle. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair while listening to me.
“You’re actually thinking about this, for fuck’s sake?” she burst out. “What I wouldn’t give for an opportunity like that! Seriously—I’m insanely jealous right now. When am I ever going to make as much money as you guys?”
“Once you’ve passed the bar and started your own practice. In the foreseeable future,” I shot back.
She gave a short dismissive wave.
“Let’s get there first.” She drained her glass of water, then wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her sweater. “Seriously though—you already knew the next six months were going to be rough. Now they’ll just be even tougher. But it’s only six months. Don’t drag this out until tomorrow. Write to her and tell her you’re in.”
I had absolutely no intention of messaging Thessa that night. I let her stew until the next morning.
She, in turn, acted as if she already knew my answer.