I scowled. Sarah was sounding too much like my mother.
"Are you saying I shouldn't do a good job?" I asked.
"Of course not," she said. "I do a good job, you do a good job, and we need to keep doing our good jobs. I just don't want you to get your hopes up. Ferguson is going to get promoted long before you will."
"He's been here a month," I said, incredulously. "I've been here more than a year. And... and... he's incompetent!"
She nodded.
"He couldn't find his ass with both hands, but he is a man, and his father golfs with Herman Banks," she said. She let out a long sigh and looked around my cramped office.
"I probably shouldn't tell you any of this," she said. "I just don't want you to get blindsided when the promotions are announced."
"It's a done deal, then?" I asked.
"Pretty much," she said.
I sighed gustily.
"That's ridiculous," I said. I blinked back tears. It was unprofessional, and I normally kept a better grip on myself, but Sarah was a good friend by now, and I didn’t bother to hide how upset I was like I normally would at work.
I had been hoping for that promotion for months.
"I know," she said. “It’s a sucky world sometimes.”
We shared commiserating looks.
“Hey, let’s leave that alone,” she said. “Topic closed. Work sucks. We’re moving on. Tell me about your weekend!”
“Justin took me out to Le Petite Gourmand,” I said. “It was spectacular. Everything you could ever want. I had duck breast for dinner, and the desserts…”
“Oh, yeah, French desserts,” she said, closing her eyes and looking blissful.
“I got a lemon crème brûlée,” I told her in a sing-song voice.
“You’re the worst,” she said. “I want it. I want it so badly.”
“Pretty sure I gained five pounds just from that dinner.”
“That’s okay, you worked it off after, I bet,” she said.
I blushed.
“Come on, Sarah,” I said. “That’s not really appropriate.”
“I don’t care,” she said, cheerfully. “He still flirting with the waitresses?”
“No,” I said immediately. I remembered the waitress bending over the table and laughing with Justin, and looking almost guilty when she saw me coming out of the ladies room.
“Mm-hm,” she said.
“He wasn’t flirting with that girl when we all went out,” I insisted. “He’s just a friendly guy. He was friendly to you, too?”
“Not as friendly as
he was to the waitress and her perky, perky tits,” she said. “Neil noticed, too, and my Neil has the subtlety of a two-by-four.”
I rolled my eyes.