I put out the cigarette in the empty coffee cup. 

Back to the grind. 

I swaggered into the office, and all the boys turned. My presence scared them. I don’t remember the last time they wanted to approach me. I picked up the phone and called.

‘Hi, is that Gerald?’

I sold $20,000 worth of software by the end of the conversation.

The boys looked on in awe as I strutted over to the whiteboard and wrote the amount in big, fuck you numbers. 

When was the last time they saw a girl show them up? 

Hell, when was the last time I didn’t have to prove I belonged here?

I laughed to myself. They were in the palm of my hand.

The rush gave me goosebumps. The success of signing a deal brought me to another plane of existence. This is what that preacher on the corner sang about heaven. 

True Heaven. 

The coffee had gone cold by the time I returned, but I slurped it down and wiped my lips.

‘Uh, Ruth?’ one peon whispered near my desk.

‘What?’ I spat.

‘Lionel wants to see you.’

‘Tell him to fuck off. I just hit my quarterly quota, so I’m leaving for the day.’

‘He said it’s important.’

I shot up from the desk, making the boy jump. I loved it when they did that.

I strutted into Lionel’s office. He was sitting at his desk, ready for me.

‘You don’t have to make a big deal out of it,’ I said. ‘Just give me the bonus and I’ll get out of your hair.’

‘You’re fired, Ruth,’ said Lionel.

I heard cheering behind me—those pathetic hyenas couldn’t wait to celebrate.

I slammed the door close and charged over to Lionel’s desk.

‘I’M WHAT?’

‘Pack your things and go, Ruth. We don’t have room for show offs around here.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about? This is sales. Everyone’s a showoff.’

‘You’re toxic.’

I smacked him. It was so hard I could already see my handprint on his cheek. I couldn’t believe I did it. Neither could Lionel. We stood there frozen for a second.

One of the boys was pressed up against the glass wall, ‘She slapped him! Oh my god. She slapped him!’

The others ran over to watch.

I turned slowly, letting them drink it in. Their faces twisted in a cocktail of horror, awe, and smug vindication.

I gave them the finger. Long and deliberate. Let the little dweebs record that, too.

Lionel hadn’t moved. Never the brightest bulb. How come the stupidest people are the middle managers? He was still catching up to the fact I’d touched his face—probably the most action that sad sack had seen in a decade.

‘Y-y-you assaulted your superior,’ he finally squeezed out, like he was reading off a cue card. ‘Security!’

I leaned across his desk, planting my palms so firmly his little Newton’s cradle jumped, ‘I’m the superior, you fuck. Those damp little nothings out there couldn’t sell a pencil without riding the wave I built.’

He flinched, barely. Then he did the worst thing anyone can do in a power play—he smiled, ‘You’re done, Ruth. After I’m done, you’ll be lucky if you can get a job selling insurance to retirees in Dubbo.’

I laughed. Loud and genuine. ‘Oh, Lionel,’ I purred. ‘You have no idea what I’m capable of.’

Security arrived. Two sorry excuses for men wrapped in high-vis, reeking of uncertainty and Lynx Africa.

I winked at them, ‘Let me grab my things.’

One of them cleared his throat, ‘Uh, we’re supposed to escort-’

‘I said, I’m grabbing my things.’

They hesitated just enough to make it clear—even now, even fired, I had more authority than Lionel ever would.

I walked past the pack of boys at the glass. I whistled, and they parted like the Red Sea. A couple tried to smirk, but when I met their eyes, they looked away.

One muttered, ‘Told ya she was a psycho.’

I looked over at the whiteboard:

$20,000.

Idiots.

I paused at my desk. I opened the drawer and took out my lipstick. Ruby red. War paint.

I applied it right there while the whole office watched me.

I used the lipstick to write a message on a Post-it note and slapped it onto my monitor.

See you soon.

I walked out.

Finally, I was out of that box of failed dreams and desperation, into the hum of Clarence Street. The city was alive and indifferent.

The sun was melting into marmalade honey.

I lit a cigarette and exhaled.

Time to build my own empire.