The Boss from Hell and the Instant Millionaire

As soon as I stepped into the office, the manager was waiting for me, arms crossed in front of her, sitting on the edge of my cubicle desk.

“Good morning, Zoe,” DeeDee chirped with a nauseating sweetness. “So glad you’re here.”

“Morning,” I mumbled, unable to match the fakeness. “'Scuse me,” I added, pulling out my chair to sit down and hoping she would move back out of my cube and out of my personal space.

She didn’t budge. She continued to sit on my desk, watching me intently as I logged onto my computer.

Realizing she wasn’t going away, I finally turned to her. “What can I do for you?”

“Meet me in the conference room now,” DeeDee responded sternly, the cheeriness no longer in her voice. “We need to talk.” She sashayed away from my desk like she was walking down a fashion show runway. I wanted her to slip and fall on her six-inch stilettos and break every bone in her scrawny body.

In the six months I had been working in this insurance claims office, I had missed several days of work for numerous reasons. Transportation issues because my husband, Rick, and I shared a car and it needed repairs. Sometimes our one-year-old daughter, Madison, was sick and I had to stay home with her. One time a pipe burst and it flooded the apartment, so we had to deal with that and temporarily relocate. Finally, I was sick a few days and I feared the cancer (which had gone into remission years earlier) had returned. Thankfully, it hadn’t.

When I was able to work, it was hard to concentrate because I had so much happening in my life. But I did my best to leave my personal life at the door and focus on my job, because that’s what I was there to do. While I kept DeeDee informed of the issues as they arose, she became less and less empathetic.

When I received the call from the daycare that my baby was having trouble breathing, I rushed to DeeDee’s desk to tell her I needed to leave. Before I could say anything, she interrupted me and sarcastically blurted out, “Lemme guess. Another tragedy in your life?”

At that moment she became my enemy and the one I loved to hate. My job involved showing empathy to policyholders who had been involved in auto accidents, but ironically my manager didn’t show any for those she managed, especially me.

Because I was a fairly new employee and didn’t have a lot of paid time off available for use, I had committed myself to being at work every day when I could, despite the manager who I could no longer stand. That explains why I was there that morning even though I had just left the emergency room with Rick two hours earlier after he slipped and fell, hurting his back. I had left him at home with Madison, and my mom had graciously come over to help. I hadn’t had any sleep, and was running on nothing but adrenaline, coffee and an energy drink.

I had barely made it to work on time, and now DeeDee wanted to meet with me in the conference room. I knew it couldn’t be good.

I took a deep breath, stood up, and calmly walked down the olive-green carpeted aisle toward the conference room. Walking the Green Mile, I thought.

Entering the small conference room, I sat down at the small table across from the bitch in the blue suit. She was reviewing paperwork and pretending I wasn’t sitting there. I didn’t bother to say anything. As much as I didn’t want to be in a meeting with her, I also was in no hurry to go back to my desk and start taking calls.

DeeDee paused, finally looked up from her folder, and made eye contact. For what seemed like an eternity, we both stared at each other without saying a word. A staring contest. A contest neither of us intended to lose.

Finally, DeeDee spoke.

“I think you know why you’re here, Zoe,” she said. “You have seven occurrences from being absent from work, and you’ve only been here six months. Plus, our quality reviews show your work, when you are here, is not up to par. Now I know you have a lot going on, but quite frankly, I don’t care. I don’t care about your life, your apartment flooding, your broke-down car. I don’t care about you. I only care about how my team performs in the office, and you’re bringing us down.”

I stared at her in disbelief. This was truly the boss from hell.

“Now, because I am such a compassionate person,” she continued, “I want to give you a final chance to get your act together. I’m giving you 30 days. During the next 30 days, you cannot miss a single day, and your quality reviews of your phone calls with customers cannot have any mistakes in them. If you fail to meet my expectations, I’ll have no choice but to terminate you.”

She leaned forward in her seat, inching closer to me across the table. “And then you’ll have plenty of time to deal with all your problems, even if you are out on the street because you can’t pay the rent.”

The rage that was now coursing through my veins made me want to leap from my seat, lunge across the table and smack the smirk off her hideous face and the taste out of her mouth. However, I remained silent. Something kept me in my seat with my mouth closed.

“Do I make myself clear?” DeeDee sneered, looking satisfied she had ruined my day. “I hope so. Have a nice day.” And with that, she stood up and sashayed out of the conference room, leaving me sitting there in a state of anger mixed with hopelessness.

I had always been a good employee at previous jobs. The idea of being at work every day and doing a job well done had never been a problem in the past. But I never had transportation problems, a flooded apartment, a sick baby and injured husband, all in the same time period, either. When I battled cancer, I was still at home with my parents, fresh out of college and unemployed, so I didn’t have an evil manager to battle.

However, because I am a survivor, this job situation wasn’t the most challenging situation I’d ever faced. Sure, I liked a steady paycheck with benefits, but I didn’t need a toxic boss from hell in my life. And even if my husband was missing work right now with an injured back, he’d return to work eventually. I comforted myself for a moment by telling myself we’d get through all of this somehow.

Maybe this is what they mean by, “For better or for worse,” I thought, not realizing I was still sitting in the conference room.

“Zoe!” DeeDee’s voice grated like nails on a chalkboard from down the hall. “Are you coming back to work?!” She then appeared in the doorway again. “You’re skating on thin ice, sis,” she said in a low voice while standing there.

I’m not your “sis.” Don’t even try it, I wanted to say.

I got up and pushed past her in the doorway, not bothering to excuse myself or say anything. Why bother?

I went to the restroom, just to collect my thoughts and splash cold water on my face. On my dreaded way back to my desk, I passed one of the TVs mounted to the wall. It was the local morning TV news show, and the anchor was saying someone had won the latest lottery jackpot from last night’s drawing. The winner had not yet come forward, but the winning ticket had been purchased at a gas station on Pineville-Matthews Road. They showed a picture of the gas station on the screen.

Whoa. I was just there the other night and I bought lottery tickets. I hadn’t remembered to check the winning numbers last night because I was in the emergency room with Rick.

The winning numbers flashed across the screen as the anchor read them out loud. “The winning numbers are 3, 17, 34…..”

I rushed back to my desk to check my ticket and I logged onto the lottery website. Work was going to have to wait. My feelings of hopelessness gave way to hope.

I rummaged through my wallet, pulled out my ticket, and eagerly searched back and forth between the computer screen and my ticket. I had the 3, the 17, the 34. My pulse started racing as I kept checking and it looked like…..I had every single winning number. All six winning numbers.

In disbelief, I kept checking, just to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. They weren’t. I was holding the winning jackpot ticket.

Oh wow. Oh my goodness.

I had won $340 million. Even after taxes, I was still a multimillionaire.

A wave of dizziness and giddiness swept over me. “I’m rich,” I whispered to myself. “I’m really rich. There is a God, there is a God.”

I looked down the aisle, and my co-workers were busy on phone calls or typing notes into the claims they were handling. They were in their own world, completely unaware they were sitting near an instant millionaire who was about to walk out of their lives and never see them again. I mean, with the exception of the office snitch Amber, my colleagues on my team were alright. But it’s not every day you win $340 million. That kind of money guarantees you will never have to work again. Ever.

I was gathering my things to leave, when Amber happened to stroll by and saw I was on the lottery website and not actually working.

“Um, Zoe, what are you doing?” Amber asked, quizzically looking at my screen. “Are you on a break?”

“Of course not,” I retorted. “Mind your business, heffa.”

Amber tossed her overbleached hair and her face glowed in anger. “I don’t like your attitude today, Zoe,” she snorted. “I need to report this to DeeDee.”

By this time, a couple of my co-workers had pulled out from their cubicles and were in the aisle watching. I was still gathering my things, throwing them in a plastic grocery bag left over in my desk.

I stopped to respond. “Well you and DeeDee can both go to hell,” I growled back. “Now run tell that.”

DeeDee appeared out of nowhere, storming down the aisle. “Is there a problem?” she hissed.

“Not a problem at all,” I said, pointing at my screen still showing the winning lottery numbers. “You see that there? That 30-day notice you put me on? You can shove that up your ass 'cause I’m outta here!”

I grabbed my handbag, plastic bag with my belongings and my now-cold coffee, and started to leave for the door, not even bothering to log off my computer. I didn’t work there anymore. They could stare at the winning numbers all they wanted. I was free. I pretended not to notice my co-workers staring at me in amazement as I strutted down the aisle.

DeeDee called after me for some reason. “Zoe, I know you’re not trying to---”

I didn’t even turn around. I kept moving quickly toward the door, holding up my hand to stop whatever she was trying to say.

“Nope, can’t hear you over all this money,” I responded. “I’m out!”

And with that I ran to my car, started the engine and called Rick as I raced out of the parking lot. “Hey. You’ll never believe what just happened!”