Chapter 2

The days slid past, and the whole business with the oranges dropped out of Frieda's mind entirely.

Things with her daughter, Louisa, had stayed frozen ever since the Jeffrey fight.

Louisa either stayed at her dorm and didn't come home, or came home and shut herself in her room. On a given day the two of them barely exchanged three sentences.

Frieda stewed over it too, and she couldn't see where she'd gone wrong. What mother didn't want her daughter to have a better life someday?

That afternoon, the company suddenly called a full staff meeting.

Val Lambert ran it, working through the usual routine business, and then his tone shifted.

"Now I'd like to announce a personnel decision. After review by upper management, we're promoting Frieda Fox to deputy supervisor of our Warehouse Department, to assist me in running the department's day-to-day operations. Let's give her a warm welcome!"

A dull ringing went off in Frieda's head, and she went completely blank.

Without thinking, she looked at Theo Finch, seated beside her. Theo was the old hand in the department, more years on the job than she had, more seniority, and everyone had assumed that deputy supervisor slot was his and no one else's.

Right now Theo's face had gone a dark, livid red, the corner of his mouth twitching, his eyes full of disbelief and fury.

A thin scatter of applause started up. Frieda stood stiffly, bowed to the room around her, and felt every gaze land on her like needles.

The moment the meeting broke up, the mood in the office turned strange.

Henry Whitney, one of the younger coworkers, sidled over and murmured with a knowing smirk, "Frieda, look at you! Been holding out on us! Come on, spill it, what'd you give Mr. Lambert? You just leapfrogged Theo and shot straight to the top!"

Something dropped in Frieda's chest. She frowned. "What are you talking about? What could I possibly give him? It was just doing my job."

"Yeah, right. Who's gonna believe that." Henry curled his lip and walked off.

Across the room, Theo slammed his mug down on the desk with a bang and said to another coworker in a sour, mocking tone,

"We old workhorses just can't measure up to somebody who knows how to grease the right palms."

Not loud, not soft. Pitched exactly right so the whole office could hear.

Frieda's face flushed and paled by turns. She wanted to blow up, but she had no idea where to even begin.

Grease palms? All she'd handed over was one lousy box of oranges! What were those oranges even worth? Enough to buy a deputy supervisor's post? Not a soul alive would believe it!

And yet somehow, every single one of them believed it.

The next few days were miserable for Frieda.

Coworkers who used to chat and laugh with her now went out of their way to avoid her, their eyes full of suspicion and contempt.

Theo threw obstacles in her path at every turn. When he handed off tasks he left things out on purpose, so whatever she took over came to her a mess.

Frieda came home with a bellyful of anger and wanted to talk it through with her daughter, but the second Louisa heard she'd been promoted, her first reaction was:

"Promoted? Mom, did you pull some strings?"

The heat shot straight up in Frieda. "Is that the kind of person you think your mother is? I can't earn a promotion on my own merit?"

"Then why didn't you before? Not before, not later, but you get promoted right after Jeffrey shows up? Did you take something from him and then turn around and use it to bribe your boss?"

Her daughter's words were a knife, sliding in with perfect aim, straight into Frieda's heart.

"What kind of garbage are you talking!" Frieda was shaking with rage. "Let me tell you, the people I've despised most my whole life are exactly the kind who work their connections and sneak in through the back door! And don't you bring up that Jeffrey to me! One box of oranges and he's got you spinning in circles, you good-for-nothing girl!"

"What's wrong with the oranges? Did they eat you out of house and home? I think you've got a guilty conscience, and I hit the nail right on the head!"

"Get out of my sight!"

Frieda jabbed a finger at the door, her lips trembling with anger. Louisa's eyes went red too. She snatched up her coat and slammed the door behind her.

In the empty apartment, Frieda was left alone. She sank down onto the couch, worn out, staring at the night outside the window, and for the first time she doubted herself.

This promotion that had come out of nowhere, was it a blessing or a curse?