“But Jeff insisted,” Kabir countered back. “And it’s important for InTech to have someone like you representing the company.”

I should ask what someone like me was supposed to mean, but I didn’t think I wanted to hear the answer. My throat dried up, making it harder for me to swallow. “Wouldn’t any of us accomplish the same objective? Shouldn’t someone with experience in what sounds like a public relations affair throw together an event this important?”

Kabir deflected, not answering my question. “Jeff said you would be fine with the organization. That we don’t need to spend extra resources, hiring someone. Plus, you are …” He trailed off, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Social. Perky.”

Clenching my fist under the table, I tried my best to hide my inner turmoil. “Sure,” I gritted out. That was every person’s dream, being referred to as perky by their boss. “But I also have a job to do. I also have projects that I’m working on the clock for. How is this … event more important than my own clients and current responsibilities?”

I remained silent for a long moment, waiting for my colleagues’ support.

Any kind of support.

And … nothing, just the usual loaded silence that followed these kinds of situations.

I shifted in my chair, feeling my cheeks heat up with frustration. “Kabir,” I said as calmly as I could, “I know Jeff might have suggested that I be in charge of this, but you guys understand that this doesn’t even make sense, right? I … wouldn’t even know where to start.” This wasn’t a thing I had been hired or was paid for.

But no one was going to admit that, even when their support would make a difference. That would lead to the real reason why I had been given this task.

“I’m already covering for two of my best team members, Linda and Patricia. I don’t have hours in the week as it is.” I hated complaining and fishing for some—or at this point, any—kind of understanding, but what else could I do?

Gerald snorted, making my head swivel in his direction. “Well, that’s a drawback of hiring women in their thirties.”

I scoffed, not wanting to believe that he had just said that. But he had. I opened my mouth, but Héctor stopped me from saying anything.

“All right, how about we all help you?” Héctor suggested. I looked at him, finding him with a resigned expression. “We could maybe all pitch in with something.”

I loved the man, but his soft heart and lack of confrontational spirit weren’t helping all that much. He was only tiptoeing around the real issue.

“This is not high school, Héctor,” Gerald snapped back. “We are professionals, and we won’t be pitching in with anything.” Shaking his greasy, bald head, he followed that with another snort.

Héctor’s mouth clamped shut.

Kabir spoke again, “I’ll forward you the list of people Jeff put together, Lina.”

I shook my head again, feeling my cheeks heat up further, biting my tongue so I wouldn’t tell my colleague something I’d regret.

“Oh,” Kabir added, “Jeff also had a few ideas for the catering. That’s in a separate email that I will forward to you too. But he wants you to do a little research on that. Maybe even think of a theme. He said you’d know what to do.”

My lips parted with a silent curse word that would make my abuela take me to church by the ear. I’d know what to do? How would I know?

Reaching for my pen and holding it with both hands so I could squeeze some of the growing frustration away, I took a deep breath. “I’m going to talk to Jeff myself,” I said through pressed teeth that formed a tight smile. “I’d usually not bother him but—”

“Would you just stop wasting our time already?” Gerald said, making the blood in my face drop to my feet. “You don’t have to take this to our boss.” Gerald’s chubby finger waved through the air. “Stop making excuses and just do it. You can smile and be extra friendly for a whole day, can’t you?”

The words extra and friendly echoed in my head as I stared at him with wide eyes.

The sweaty man, crammed into a dress shirt designed for someone who had a class he’d never achieve, would take any chance he could get to bring anyone down. Even more so if that happened to be a woman. I knew.

“Gerald”—I gentled my voice and increased the pressure on my pen, praying it wouldn’t break and give away how outraged I really felt—“the purpose of this meeting is to discuss issues like this one. So, I’m sorry, but you are going to have to listen to me do exactly—”

“Sweetheart,” Gerald interrupted me, a sneer breaking across his face, “think of it as a party. Women know about those, don’t they? Just prepare some activities, get some food delivered here, put on nice clothes, and crack some jokes. You are young and cute; you won’t even have to use your brain all that much. They’ll be eating right out of your hand.” He chuckled. “I’m sure you know how to do that, don’t you?”

I choked on my own words. The air that was supposed to be getting in and out of my lungs was stuck somewhere in between.

Not able to control what my body was doing, I felt my legs straighten, bringing me up. My chair screeched back, the noise loud and sudden. Smacking both hands on the surface of the desk, I felt my head blank for a second, and I saw red. Literally. In that precise moment, I understood where the expression had come from. I saw fucking red, as if I had slipped on a pair of glasses with crimson lenses.

Somewhere to my right, I heard Héctor exhaling heavily. Muttering under his breath.

Then, I heard nothing. Only my heart hammering in my chest.

There it was. The truth. The real reason why I, among the four other people sitting in this room, had been handpicked to do this damn thing. I was a woman—the only woman in the division, leading a team—and I had the goods, no matter how generous my curves were or not. Perky, cute, female. I was the attractive option, apparently. I was being showcased to our clients as the golden token that proved that InTech was not stuck in the past.

“Lina.” I willed my voice to remain firm and calm, hating that it hadn’t. Hating that I wanted to turn around and let my legs carry me out of the room. “Not sweetheart. My name is Lina.” I sat back on my chair very slowly, clearing my throat and taking one extra moment to rein it in. I have this. I need to have this. “Next time, make sure to use my name, please. And address me with the decency and professionalism you do with everyone else.” My voice reached my ears in a way I didn’t like one bit. Making me feel that weak version of myself that I didn’t want to be. But at least I had managed to get it all out without flipping or running away. “Thanks.”

Sensing how my eyes were starting to feel glassy out of pure outrage and frustration, I blinked a few times, willing that and everything else away from my face. Wishing that the lump in my throat had nothing to do with embarrassment, even when it did. Because how could I not feel embarrassed when I had snapped like that? When—even after what had happened all that time ago, even being that this wasn’t the first time I’d had to deal with this kind of crap—I still didn’t know how?

Gerald rolled his eyes. “Don’t take it so seriously, Lina.” He shot me a condescending look. “I was just joking around. Right, guys?”

He looked over at our colleagues, searching the room for their support.

He didn’t find any.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Héctor deflating in his chair. “Gerald …” he said, sounding tired and discouraged. “Come on, man.”

Keeping my eyes on Gerald and trying to stop my chest from heaving with building helplessness, I refused to look at the other two men, Kabir and Aaron, who remained silent.

They probably thought they were not taking any side, but they were. Their silence was doing exactly that.