Love In The Jungle by Ann Walker Page A

Hal.”
    There was no way in hell I was going to do this—not by the
end of the day, anyway. After slipping out of his office, I grabbed my coat and
purse, told the receptionist I was headed to lunch with a vendor, and called it
a day. I needed to think, to consider my future career at the company, and I
definitely couldn’t do it surrounded by other corporate vultures.
    My options were limited, but once I set them out, the
decision was easy. Either I instruct managers to lay off hundreds and hundreds
of people across the country, or I piss off Hal.
    From my bench at a local park, a place I often went to work
out some of my heavier problems, I grinned: pissing off Hal was practically my
favorite pastime already.
    Bring it on.
    ****
    “Honey, it sounds like you made the
right decision.” I bit my lip, my stare glazed over as my dad’s voice sounded
in my ear. “I mean, would you really want to invest your career in a company
who does something like that?”
    “I guess not,” I sighed, but my words were unconvincing to
both of us. I sounded miserable, and I was fully aware of it. I mean, how can I
not be? With a stereotypical white box filled with my desk’s contents sitting
on the couch beside me, I had every right to be miserable; I’d been fired.
    Apparently Hal did not appreciate my combative attitude on
the issue, and after a forty minute meeting where I tried to argue against the
ruling, occasionally pointing out senior-level employee salaries that could be
cut back to make up for budget issues, he told me he’d have to let me go.
    “We planned to merge PR and HR one of these days anyway,”
he’d told me as I openly gawked at him. “We need team players, Clara, and I’m
afraid you’re not cutting it anymore.”
    In that moment, I’d questioned my stance on the whole issue,
and it had apparently come down to me losing my job—or them. In the end, I
shook his hand because that’s how I’d been raised, then I was left to pack my
things. My coworkers, the ones who I got along with best, were devastated to
see me go, and I’d sat in my car crying for a full twenty minutes before I left
the parking lot.
    A part of me wanted to take this to a labor board. We
weren’t unionized at the company or anything drastic like that, but I was
pretty sure this was a wrongful termination if I’d ever seen one. The more I
sulked at home, however, the more I wondered if corporate life was for me. I
loved business, but politics weren’t my game—never had been, never would be.
    “Think of all the free time you have now,” Dad said.
    I know he was trying to be helpful, but my dad’s words made
my eyes prickle with tears, and I ran my fingers under to collect some of the
watery mascara.
    “I guess.”
    “You’re a bright girl,” he continued, and I could hear the
clatter of dishes in the background. He was cleaning up after his lunch,
pleasantly enjoying retirement as the rest of us slaved away every day. Well,
the rest of them. No more of that for me. “Some lucky company is going to
snatch you right up.”
    I shrugged. Working in public relations had become a pretty
popular gig these days, and even though the job market hadn’t been saturated
with people when I graduated university five years ago, it was pretty
competitive now.
    “But take a breather,” he asserted firmly. “I bet you’re a
little worn out anyway, and there’s no sense in running yourself ragged to find
something new right away. You have savings, right?”
    “Yup,” I said, picking at the track-pants I’d practically
fallen into as soon as I was home. “Plenty of that.”
    Even if the company had its problems, I’d always been paid
well. By my rough estimates, I could keep paying my rent and car payments for
another eight months before I needed to delve too far into my savings. Money
wasn’t the problem. Morale, on the other hand, could probably use a boost or
two.
    “I’ve never been fired before,” I muttered, my voice losing
a