The Annual Gala was underway when the CEO suddenly announced an extra segment. “Time for the Department Showdown! The team that lands at the bottom of the rankings gets a little… incentive!” The huge screen lit up, and the year-end performance metrics scrolled down. Sales was first, Operations second, Marketing third… The Administrative Department: Not listed. Because Admin didn’t have a sales quota. Our CEO, Victor Albright, smiled broadly as he looked toward our table. “My Admin team, come on up to claim your prize!” Two guys in tuxedos walked out, hauling a wicker basket filled with old-school straw brooms. The entire room erupted in laughter. “Time to sweep out the cobwebs from last year, folks! Let’s try not to land at the bottom next year, shall we?” Victor personally handed a broom to each of us. The stage lights flashed and dozens of phones were held up. The Sales Director, Brent, laughed the loudest. “The Admin team finally has a spotlight moment! Hilarious!” 1 Back at our table, Devon slammed her broom onto the linen cloth. “Are you kidding me? A public shaming for the entire department?” Patrice, our most senior staffer, hissed, “Keep it down, Devon.” “Why should I?” Devon’s eyes were red. “I’m getting married in the spring, and I was counting on that bonus. Instead, I get a goddamn broom?” Tess, the youngest, kept her head down, her shoulders shaking. Patrice sighed, running a hand over her head. “My husband’s checkup is next month. I was hoping…” She didn’t finish the thought. My phone buzzed. A private message from Victor. [Joss, don't overthink it. Just trying to lighten the mood. You're a veteran here, you need to have a little perspective. Manage your team's mindset, and try not to come in last next year.] Perspective. There were five of us in Admin. We handled everything from high-stakes vendor negotiations and regulatory compliance to booking flights, managing deliveries, and fixing the damn office printer. Who processed the contracts for Sales? Who spent all night coordinating materials for Marketing’s biggest launch? Who managed Victor’s chaotic travel itinerary? We did the dirty work. And for what? "No quota," and a cheap broom as a reward. Devon glared at me. “Boss, are we going to let this slide?” I placed my broom gently on the table. “No. This is not over.” The gala ended, and I walked straight to Victor’s office. The door was open. It was packed and noisy. The Sales Director, the Marketing Director, the CFO—all of them were gathered around Victor, practically bowing, their faces flushed with success and expensive scotch. “Victor, the performance jump this year is all thanks to your leadership!” “Next year, we’ll double the numbers, I promise!” Victor’s smile froze for a split second when he saw me. “Alright, everyone, wrap it up. We’ll hit the ground running after the holidays.” As the crowd dispersed, Victor gestured for me to sit down, slowly lighting a cigarette. “What’s with the scowl? Did someone forget to pay you?” I fought to keep my voice even. “Victor, the segment tonight—was it necessary?” “Which segment?” “The brooms.” He blew out a plume of smoke and chuckled. “Joss. You’re too sensitive. It was just a harmless gag. Look, everyone else was having fun.” “That’s because the brooms weren’t handed to them.” “Oh, you’re seriously upset about this?” Victor stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned back. “Fine. I’ll ask you this: Based on what metrics should Admin not be at the bottom? Sales closed three hundred million in deals. Ops cut client acquisition costs by forty percent. Marketing tripled our exposure—what data, Joss, can you present for Admin?” A blinding rage flared up inside me. Data. Data. Always data. In the middle of the year, when the company issued raises, every department got a bump except ours. When I asked why: [Admin salaries are fixed, Joss. Unlike the business departments, you don’t have performance fluctuations. Raises for your team have to be prioritized later.] [You’re a veteran, Joss. Show some perspective.] [Wait until the end of the year. I’ll make it up to you on the annual bonus. I won’t let you down.] Our salaries were fixed, yes—fixed for three years, while the cost of living and rent kept climbing. Year after year, he painted a future that never arrived. But because he’d promised a larger year-end bonus, my team had endured. I spoke through clenched teeth. “We accepted no raise mid-year because you promised to compensate us with the year-end bonus!” BANG! His coffee mug hit the desk hard. “Jocelyn! Watch your tone!” “The company has a clearly defined assessment model. Admin doesn’t generate revenue, so by the contribution metric, you’re at the bottom. What’s the problem?” “But in previous years—” “Previous years are previous years!” Victor cut me off. “For the company to grow, we need to reform. Admin needs to learn to absorb its own costs and stop relying on the company to bail you out!” I stood up. “I understand. You see the Admin Department as completely disposable.” “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to. Your actions speak volumes.” I turned to leave. “Stop right there!” Victor’s voice dropped, cold and dangerous. “Joss Riley, you’ve been an Admin Manager for eight years. How can you be so utterly lacking in perspective? You throw a tantrum because your bonus is smaller? What message does that send to the rest of the company about the Admin function?” I looked back, locking eyes with him. “Victor, I can afford to lack perspective. But my staff are relying on those bonuses to get by. Patrice’s husband needs a medical checkup. Devon is getting married. Tess promised to take her mother to the coast for her arthritis—” “That is their personal business. What does that have to do with the company?” Victor waved his hand dismissively. “This company is not a charity. We can’t overpay employees just because they have family problems. If you’re unhappy, go ahead and sue us. See if the Labor Board will even hear your case!” I froze. He wasn't going to show me even a shred of respect. “Fine. Then I will go ask them.” Victor smirked. “Be my guest. But a word of caution: if you burn this bridge, you won’t be working in this city again.” I didn’t reply. I slammed the door behind me. 2 Walking out of Victor’s office, I ran right into Tori Bell, the HR Director, in the hallway. She smiled sweetly and took my arm. “Joss, perfect timing. I was just looking for you. Come sit in my office?” I didn't resist. Tori poured me a glass of water, sat opposite me, and sighed, frowning. “Why the fuss?” I looked up, utterly astonished. “Why the fuss? Tori, my staff—they are all banking on that bonus!” “Patrice’s husband has a tumor on his liver. She needs to take him to a specialist in New York.” “Devon is over thirty and finally getting married. She was counting on that money for the reception.” “Tess’s mother has rheumatism. She promised her she’d take her down to Miami for the winter… She can’t take another Northern winter.” “But the company is not a charity, Joss. We have to follow procedure. We can’t increase compensation just because an employee is struggling.” Tori said it so casually, as if she were talking about the weather. “Fine, I won’t talk about struggle!” I pulled my chair closer, opened my phone, and slapped it on the desk. “Let’s talk about contribution!” “The Admin Department came in last, which means we contributed nothing? Let’s run the numbers and see what Admin actually contributed!” I scrolled through my work emails. “This year, the company signed sixty-three major contracts. Every single one of those contracts—the flow, the signing, the archiving—was managed by Admin. If we outsourced that legal-admin work, the filing fee alone would be about $3,000 per contract. Sixty-three contracts? That’s nearly $190,000 in costs we saved the company.” “The company passed the Environmental Safety audit last year because Admin ran to the regulatory center over twenty times, prepared hundreds of pages of documentation, and spent three months getting it right. Outsourced to a consultant? That’s $150,000, minimum.” “And vendor management—we maintained relationships with forty-seven long-term suppliers. We renegotiated payment terms from Net-30 to Net-60 for twelve of them. Just that one change saved the company hundreds of thousands in cash flow costs!” “Our five-person Admin team averages $6,000 a month. That’s an annual payroll of $360,000. Any one of the things I just listed easily covers that cost! You’re calling that ‘no contribution’?” Tori was momentarily speechless. After a long pause, she said, “We didn’t say no contribution. But Admin is overhead. On the financial statements, it’s a pure expenditure…” I scoffed. “Then let’s talk about the workload.” I pulled up the attendance records. “Last year, the Admin department averaged forty-two hours of overtime per person, per month. When we relocated the office on Labor Day weekend, my entire team worked seventy-two straight hours without sleep. During the Thanksgiving rush, when a major client flew in unexpectedly, we handled everything from airport pickup to lodging to conference room setup—a full-service operation—and didn’t even get a dinner break!” “Did we get overtime pay? No. Comp time? No. Any kind of bonus? No!” “What does that work break down to hourly? Eighteen dollars an hour! The convenience store clerk across the street makes twenty-two dollars an hour!” I leaned in, delivering each word deliberately. “Eighteen dollars an hour, doing all the grunt work, just to be handed a broom at the end of the year and told to sweep away bad luck—Tori, do you honestly think that’s fair?” Tori’s face hardened. “Joss, you can’t just focus on your own small contribution. You have to compare horizontally. Sales and Marketing contributed far more than you.” I stood up, giving her a look of utter contempt. “Contributed what? Delayed expense reports?” “Admin has covered eighty thousand dollars in outstanding expense reports for other departments, which Finance is still refusing to process! They claim the procedures aren’t compliant! What procedures? We used the exact same process last year!” “And what about the Planning Department, Victor’s nephew’s little team? They produced three proposals all year. One of them was flagged for plagiarism and cost us a $50,000 PR settlement, which, by the way, was deducted from the Admin budget!” “That’s the contribution, right?” The more I spoke, the greater my sense of injustice. “And your HR department—all you do is process attendance and issue penalty notices! Fifty dollars for one minute late, a hundred for forgetting to clock in, fifty for a messy desk! You collected over thirty thousand dollars in fines last year! Where did that money go?” I let out a sharp, cold laugh. “You’re all true heroes, aren’t you? The great contributors!” “If the company genuinely believes Admin has no contribution, then don’t expect us to work for free anymore!” “We might be loyal, but we’re not stupid! We’ve eaten enough stale cake to know when the party’s over.” Ignoring Tori’s purple face, I walked out. Behind me, I heard the sound of the glass of water shattering on the floor. Her "good intentions" were nothing more than a sales pitch for Victor. Ultimately, I knew Tori had signed off on that embarrassing gala stunt. 3 When I got back to the Admin department, four pairs of eyes snapped up, staring at me. My throat tightened, and my nose stung. I opened my mouth but couldn't speak. Devon managed a bitter smile. “From Boss’s expression, I guess we’re out of luck. Fine. I’ll figure out the wedding somehow.” Tess wiped away a tear. “Everyone pooled some cash for me. I can get my mom a general practitioner appointment now. The specialist will have to wait.” Patrice was silent, texting, likely telling her husband the checkup had to be postponed. All of their anger and frustration were swallowed whole, mixed with their tears. I clenched my fists tighter. “Patrice, didn’t you have a good contact in HR?” Patrice nodded. “Young Maya. Why?” “Go ask her if the company has any big moves planned.” Patrice immediately sent a text. A few minutes later, her face drained of color. “Boss, Maya says… Victor has been wanting to replace our entire department for a while. He’s annoyed that our salaries haven’t budged in three years, and he wants to bring in a batch of cheaper, fresh college grads.” “And,” Patrice gritted her teeth, “Tori has asked Legal to prepare materials. She said if we dare to make a fuss, they’ll audit our books—vendor kickbacks, expense report fraud—they'll find enough to bury us.” “This time,” I said, my voice hoarse, the desperation in my eyes turning to steel, “we are not letting this go.” Patrice looked up. “Boss, remember Graham Hastings at Aegis Group? He called me last week. Said Aegis is expanding, needs staff for their Admin systems, and asked if I was interested.” “What did you tell him?” “I didn't commit. Just said I’d think about it.” Patrice offered a rueful smile. “If I’d known this was coming, I’d have said yes immediately.” “It’s not too late.” I said. “Go ask him how many people he can take.” “Are you suggesting… we all jump ship together?” “Let’s try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll rethink.” Patrice instantly pulled out her phone. “I’m calling him now.” Devon’s eyes lit up. “Boss, Aegis is one of the biggest names in the industry! If we could land there…” “Don’t celebrate yet,” I cautioned. “This has to be top secret. Victor cannot know where we’re going until we officially resign.” “Why?” “Victor is petty and vindictive. He started his company by poaching talent from Graham’s previous firm, and they have bad blood. If he knows we’re jumping as a unit to Aegis, he will try to sabotage us.” “Understood.” Devon nodded. “Boss, tell us what to do.” Patrice’s call lasted half an hour. When she emerged, a genuine smile was finally on her face. “Graham said Aegis is setting up a new Admin Hub and needs a complete, experienced team. If we’re willing, we can all go.” “What about compensation?” “Base salary is 30% higher than here, year-end bonus paid quarterly, maxed-out 401k and benefits. He can arrange the interviews for next week.” Tess jumped up, excited. “Seriously?” “Graham’s word. It’s solid.” Devon slapped her thigh. “What are we waiting for!” “Hold on.” I raised a hand to calm them. “We have a few things to take care of first.” “First, organize all our documents. Back up everything that needs backing up. Take pictures of everything that matters.” “Second, work as normal. Don’t show any signs of change. Wait until the interviews are done and the offers are confirmed.” “Third, we need to secure a written commitment for severance—N+1 is the legal minimum, and we’re taking every cent.” “Fourth,” I paused, “the company’s books are dirty. And we have the proof.” All four heads turned toward me. “Remember the expense reports last year? Victor was using company funds to cover private dinners. We had to find receipts to match. Remember those business trips where he took his mistress to Aruba? The tickets and hotels were all billed to the company.” Devon inhaled sharply. “Falsifying invoices…” “More than that,” I continued. “Three of the vendors on our approved list are shell companies owned by Victor’s brother-in-law. Millions of dollars processed annually, with zero actual work delivered. That’s a conflict of interest and potential corporate asset misappropriation.” Patrice’s face changed. “Boss, are you suggesting…” “I’m not suggesting anything.” I looked at them pointedly. “I’m reminding you to keep those files safe. Just in case, you know, we ever need to set the record straight.” The team nodded, a silent, grim understanding passing between us. 4 The next week, the job transition proceeded smoothly. Graham at Aegis took the matter seriously. He personally interviewed us, and all five of us passed. The formal offers arrived quickly. Our start date was set for the beginning of next month, perfectly aligned with our projected departure. I thought everything was going to plan. Until Friday afternoon, when Victor suddenly messaged the company-wide chat. [All-Hands Meeting at 3 PM. Admin Team must attend. Important Personnel Announcement.] My heart sank. At 3 PM sharp, the conference room was packed. Victor stood at the front next to a strange young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and an impeccably tailored suit—a classic, entitled MBA type. “I’ve called you all here today to announce an important change.”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "389646", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel