Chapter 5: Hyenas and Broken Umbrellas

Just then, the ‘puppy dog’ rushed in and placed a cup of Starbucks iced coffee on Marge’s desk. “Marge, first iced coffee of summer—just for you.”

He grinned, the condensation already beading on the cup. He waited for her approval like a kid showing off a report card.

So he’d run out earlier because she coughed and he went to get this.

I rolled my eyes. He was like a trained seal, desperate for a treat. The whole scene was pathetic.

Watching his sycophantic grin, I just felt disgusted. How shameless can a man be? Did he really think he could freeload forever just because of connections? He’d already been discarded like an old shoe!

He’d spent years playing lapdog, and now he was about to be thrown to the curb. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Marge said, “At least teacher’s pet knows how to show appreciation—unlike some people.”

She shot me a look, her eyes glinting. Her friends giggled, as if this was the best entertainment they’d had all week.

The ‘puppy dog’ added, “Marge, it’s just a broken umbrella. Don’t lower yourself to his level.”

He puffed out his chest, acting like he was doing her a favor. I wanted to laugh.

Marge sneered, “How could I stoop to his level? Anyway, he won’t be our colleague after this afternoon.”

She said it with such certainty, you’d think she was the CEO herself.

The ‘puppy dog’ feigned surprise. “Oh! Who’ll do all the work, then?”

He clapped his hands together, as if genuinely worried. The sarcasm was thick.

“Yeah, if he’s gone, who’ll do the work?” the other connections chimed in.

They all laughed, high-fiving each other. It was like watching a pack of hyenas circling a wounded animal, their laughter loud and shrill, bouncing off the cubicle walls.

Marge glanced at me with disdain. “We’ll just hire new people. Isn’t it easy to find obedient workers these days?”

She tossed her hair, as if the whole thing was beneath her. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let her see me flinch.

I suppressed my anger and glared at her. Who did she think she was? She was just an employee—did she really think she was the main character because her brother-in-law was a VP?

I clenched my jaw, fists balled at my sides. I’d had enough of her power trip.

Just wait until she gets laid off.

I pictured her packing up her desk, her smug smile wiped clean. The thought kept me going.

When I glared at her, she got angry and marched over to my desk. I thought she’d threaten me again, but instead, she pretended not to see me and stomped hard on my umbrella with her high heels. With a crack, the umbrella my wife gave me was broken.

The sound echoed in my ears. The plastic snapped, and the smell of wet fabric mixed with office carpet made my stomach twist. I stared at the shattered handle, rage boiling inside me.