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MidReal Story
The CEO's Assistant
Scenario:Amber sits at her desk, tired of random guys constantly trying to talk to her. Frustrated by their never-ending attempts to get her out for drinks or alone in the breakroom, she notices me walking in late. "Ugh, can you never get here on time? You better not ask me for any favors today."
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Amber Thompson
first_person_protagonist, female. She is a marketing manager at a large corporation. She is independent, sarcastic, and frustrated. Amber navigates office politics and unwanted attention from male colleagues. She struggles with her boss's lack of support and the constant pressure to conform to societal expectations. Her relationship with her best friend, Rachel, provides a source of comfort and support. Amber's sarcastic humor and resilience help her cope with the challenges she faces daily.
Jason Mitchell
side_character, male. He is a colleague of Amber's at the marketing firm. He is persistent, annoying, and oblivious. Jason frequently asks Amber out despite her clear disinterest, demonstrating his inability to respect boundaries.
Mark Anderson
side_character, male. He is Amber's boss at the marketing firm. He is demanding, unsupportive, and dismissive. Mark consistently pressures Amber to meet deadlines without providing adequate resources or recognition for her efforts. His lack of empathy towards Amber's workload contributes to her frustration at work.
"Hey, beautiful."
I rolled my eyes.
What was it with guys who couldn’t take a hint?
"Hi, Jason," I said coolly.
"Do you have any meetings or work to do today?"
He looked shocked that I would suggest such a thing.
"Um, no. Why?"
I sighed.
"Because I have a lot of work to get done today, and I don’t have time to chat. If you’ll excuse me?"
He looked crestfallen, but I didn’t care.
I had way too much on my plate to be dealing with this nonsense.
As marketing manager at a large corporation, I was already dealing with way too much.
My boss was completely unsupportive, and he didn’t care that I was working long hours and giving it my all.
He just kept piling on more work and expecting me to get it all done yesterday.
I didn’t get paid enough for this.
And to make matters worse, the CEO seemed to think that because I was young and attractive, I wasn’t capable of doing my job.
It was frustrating beyond belief.
"Amber," Rachel’s voice called from her cubicle.
I turned and smiled at my best friend.
"Hey, girl. How’s it going?"
She grinned mischievously at me.
"I heard Jason bothering you. Want me to take care of him?"
I laughed.
"You’re the best."
She winked.
"No problem. It’s what friends are for."
She got up from her chair and sauntered over to Jason’s cubicle.
I slumped back in my chair and watched as Rachel distracted Jason with some made-up story about the office printer.
He was completely enthralled, and I knew he wouldn’t be bothering me again.
My inbox pinged, and I turned back to my computer.
Three new emails from Mark, each one marked with a red exclamation point.
I sighed and looked up at the fluorescent lights humming above my head.
They were giving me a headache.
I glanced at the clock on my screen.
Four more hours until I could go home.
I pulled up the first email.
Mark was demanding that I have the quarterly report ready by tomorrow morning, even though he had told me last week that I had until next week to get it done.
I clenched my jaw and placed my fingers over the keyboard, ready to type out a reply telling him where he could stick his demands.
But then I glanced through the glass partition that separated my office from his, and I saw him laughing with the CEO, neither of them looking my way. Fine.
I slumped back in my chair and pulled up the spreadsheets for the quarterly report on my dual monitors.
The numbers swam before my eyes, but I knew I could get it done.
It would just take a few long hours of staring at a screen and typing.
The quarterly report was due to the CEO tomorrow, and Mark had promised that if I got it to him by then, he wouldn’t give me any other work for the rest of the week.
I scrolled through the endless columns of figures, looking for any discrepancies.
My phone buzzed on my desk.
I glanced down at it and saw another message from Jason asking about lunch plans.
I silenced it and turned back to the screens in front of me.
I started copying the figures into the report template, typing quickly as the minutes ticked away.
As lunchtime approached, people started leaving for lunch.
The office grew quieter and quieter until it was just me and Mark sitting here.
I was halfway through copying the data when my fingers froze over the keyboard.
The revenue figures from the Thompson account didn’t match the closing balance from last quarter.
I pulled up both files side by side on my screens, squinting at the columns of numbers.
There was a discrepancy of $50,000.
I double-checked the formulas, but they were correct.
Opening previous reports, I saw that this wasn’t a one-time error.
The numbers had been off for months.
My stomach tightened as I realized that these weren’t random errors.
They were intentional.
I looked through the glass partition at Mark, who was still chatting with the CEO in his office.
Mark was gesturing enthusiastically with his hands, and the CEO was smiling and nodding along.
I cross-referenced the altered figures with the original data files, and they all matched.
My hands were shaking slightly as I opened each document, but I knew that this wasn’t a mistake.
I opened my email archive, looking for the drafts I had sent to Mark for review before submitting them to the board.
The numbers in those emails were much different from the final versions he had submitted to the board.
A chat notification popped up on my screen.
It was Mark asking if I was making good progress on the quarterly report.
I minimized the screen just as his footsteps sounded outside my office door.
I quickly switched to a blank spreadsheet, saving all of my evidence to my personal drive.
Mark knocked lightly on the doorframe, a casual smile on his face.
"Hey, how's it going with the report?" he asked, leaning against the door.
I met his gaze, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Mark, why are the numbers for the Thompson account off by fifty grand?"
His eyes darted around the office, his smile faltering.
He pushed off from the door and took a few steps back into my office.
He cleared his throat, fidgeting with his suit jacket.
"Well, there were some errors in accounting. Nothing big, just a little glitch in the system. We caught it and corrected it."
His right hand twitched toward his suit pocket before he pulled it back.
I slowly turned my monitor around to show him the side-by-side comparison of the original figures and the ones he had submitted.
The fluorescent lights above us cast harsh shadows across his face.
His eyes flicked between the screens, his breathing quickening.
"This is nothing," he muttered, turning to leave.
I sat back in my chair, still trying to process what I had just seen.
Mark’s reaction was guiltier than I could have imagined.
I knew that he had been acting strangely lately, but I had never suspected this.
My phone vibrated against the metal desk drawer, startling me.
I pulled it out and opened the LinkedIn message.
It was an offer from Thompson & Associates for a new Marketing Director position.
The salary was twice what I made now, and they wanted me to start immediately.
I looked up through the office window at the hallways outside.
Mark was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear as he gestured frantically with his free hand.