I knew peace was a myth the moment the assignment landed in my inbox like a glitter bomb filled with dry sarcasm and passive-aggressive font. Effective immediately, Scarlett Farnsworth, strategist, over-thinker, professional emotional imploder, was now personally assisting Daphne Greer for the week of investor showcase prep. Not working beside. Not collaborating with. Not even supporting from a dignified corner with a clipboard and a wireless headset. Assisting. As in... fetching, carrying, nodding politely while being slowly eviscerated by a woman who used her reflection as a weapon.
I stared at the screen. Then refreshed the page like that would change it. It didn’t. The words were still there, mocking me in Helvetica. Camille didn’t even look up from her desk as I walked past, probably
