The Hint of Opportunity
When Mr. Daniels called me into his office that Tuesday morning, I thought it was about the Johnson account mix-up.
Instead, he leaned back in his leather chair—the one that squeaks whenever he shifts his weight—and said something that made my heart skip: ‘Cathy, we’re creating a new management position soon. I’m looking for leadership material.
‘
He didn’t explicitly say I was being considered, but the way his eyes lingered on me spoke volumes. For the first time in fifteen years, I felt seen. That night, I couldn’t sleep.
I made a plan right then and there, scribbling notes on the back of an electric bill envelope. I’d show them exactly what leadership material looked like. For the next six weeks, I was the first one in and the last to leave.
I stayed until 8 PM most nights, working through the backlog of claims that everyone else conveniently ‘forgot’ about. I reorganized the filing system that had been a disaster since 2018.
I even volunteered to mentor Becca, the new hire who came to us from some trendy marketing firm. She was young—just 26—with perfect hair and those impossibly white teeth that seem standard issue for her generation.
‘I’d be happy to show her the ropes,’ I told Mr. Daniels, ignoring the twinge in my back from sitting in our ancient office chairs. This was my moment, my chance to finally move up after years of being the reliable workhorse.
Little did I know that volunteering to mentor Becca would be like inviting a fox into the henhouse.