Bad News

Jon arrived home nearly two hours later than usual, not because he had work to do, or because anyone had asked him to stay. He simply hadn't wanted to come home carrying the news. The late afternoon sun hung low over the quiet suburban street as he pulled into the driveway.

For several moments he remained seated behind the wheel, staring at the house. It was a beautiful home. It wasn't extravagant, or flashy, simply comfortable. It was sort of place two people built together over twenty years. The sight of it should have brought him peace. Instead, all he could think about was the promotion that wasn't his.

Eventually he climbed out of the car and walked toward the front door. The familiar smell of dinner greeted him the moment he stepped inside. The smell hit him the moment he opened the front door. Garlic, onions, and something simmering on the stove filled the house with the warm, comforting scent of a home-cooked meal.

Under any other circumstances, it would have made him smile. Tonight it only made the knot in his stomach tighten. Brandi was cooking dinner, going about her evening completely unaware that the future they had spent years building together had just been thrown into uncertainty.

She didn't know about the promotion. She didn't know about Richard. And she certainly didn't know that Jon had no idea how he was supposed to tell her. As far as she was concerned, today was supposed to be a celebration.

"Jon?" Her voice drifted from the kitchen.

"In here." He followed the sound and found her standing at the stove.

For a moment, he simply watched her. Brandi wore a black sportsbra and athletic shorts. She always hit the gym on her way home from work. The exhaustion of a twelve-hour hospital shift lingered in her posture, but she still managed to smile when she saw him.

The sight hit him harder than he expected. God, he loved her, even after twenty years. Even after all the distance that had grown between them. He still loved her.

"Hey." She stepped forward and kissed his cheek. It was simple gesture, yet it felt strangely intimate. "How did it go?" The question landed like a punch. The smile faded from her face almost immediately. "Oh no." Brandi sighed.

"They gave it to Richard." The words tasted bitter. Jon looked away.

Her shoulders slumped. For a moment neither spoke. Then she wrapped her arms around him. The gesture surprised him. Brandi wasn't normally affectionate anymore. Not because she didn't care. Life had simply worn the habit away. Yet now she held him without hesitation.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Jon closed his eyes. The embrace felt good. It reminded him of everything they used to be, abd could be again. "It should've been you."

"I know." The answer came out before he could stop it. The bitterness in his own voice startled him.

Brandi pulled back slightly. "You deserved it."

He laughed. The sound held no humor. "Apparently management disagreed."

She studied him carefully. "What happened?"

Jon hesitated for only a moment before finally telling her everything. He explained how the meeting had started, how confident he had been walking into the conference room, and how certain he had felt that the promotion was his. Then he described the announcement itself, the sudden realization that Richard's name, not his own, had been called.

Jon told Brandi of the applause that had immediately followed. He told her how the room had erupted with congratulations while he sat frozen in his chair trying to process what had happened. Finally, he described the look Richard had given him from across the room.

Nobody else had noticed it. Nobody else would have understood it. But Jon had seen the smirk, the small expression of private triumph that existed solely for him, and that had somehow hurt even more than losing the promotion itself.

Brandi listened quietly as Jon finished describing the meeting. The more he talked, the more her expression shifted from sympathy to concern. She had heard Richard's name for years, usually attached to stories about office politics, or arguments over projects, or some new frustration that had followed Jon home.

Still, she had never met the man, and most of what she knew came from listening to Jon vent after difficult days. She set down the spoon she had been holding and turned toward him. "You've been talking about this guy for as long as I've known you. What is he actually going to be like as a boss?"

Jon let out a long breath and rubbed a hand across his face. "I know what he's like as a rival," Jon replied. "I know what he's like when he's competing for the same projects I am. I know what he's like when he thinks somebody is standing between him and something he wants."

The answer seemed to trouble her. "Does anyone like him?"

Jon laughed, though there was no humor in it. "Richard doesn't care whether people like him. That's one of the reasons he's so effective. Most managers want to be respected. Some want to be liked. Richard wants to win at all costs."

Brandi leaned against the counter, considering that. "That sounds exhausting."

"It is. Every conversation with him feels like a competition. Every meeting feels like a chess match. If you tell him something, he's already trying to figure out how it benefits him. If you disagree with him, he remembers it. If you beat him at something, he remembers that too."

"And now he's your supervisor."

Jon nodded grimly. "That's what scares me," he admitted. "If this had gone the other way, I would have treated him fairly, at least. I always assumed he hated me because I stood in his way. Now I'm afraid he spent all those years keeping score." The realization seemed to settle over both of them at once.

Brandi crossed the kitchen and placed a hand on his arm. "Maybe you're giving him too much power in your head."

Jon looked toward the dining room window, where darkness had begun gathering outside. "Maybe, but that look he gave me after the announcement wasn't the look of somebody who had finally gotten a promotion. It was the look of somebody who finally had me exactly where he wanted me."

For the first time since he'd come home, Brandi had no response. She simply stood beside him, her hand resting on his arm, both of them contemplating what the future might look like now that Richard Head was Jon's boss.

Brandi's expression had hardened. "I hate that man."

Jon managed a weak smile. "Join the club."

She shook her head. "I don't understand how people like that keep getting ahead."

"Because people like me keep doing the work." The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Brandi looked at him with concern. Jon immediately regretted saying it, not because it wasn't true, but because it made him sound pathetic and defeated. For most of his life he had been the optimistic one, the man who believed hard work eventually paid off. Today had broken something inside him.

Brandi seemed to sense it. "Hey." He looked up. "We'll be okay." The words were simple, yet they carried the weight of twenty years.

Jon nodded. "I know."

But part of him wasn't sure. The promotion had represented more than money, more than status. It had been proof that all the sacrifices he had made had been worth something, proof that his best years weren't already behind him. Now he wasn't certain of anything. Brandi returned to the stove while Jon opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer.