Arthur placed the newspaper upon his desk.
“You've been using our drafting equipment.”
Maggie felt heat rise in her cheeks.
“After hours. With permission from the office manager.”
“To prepare an independent proposal for a development project worth several million dollars.”
“A community restoration proposal.”
“One that could interfere with our firm's relationship with Sterling Properties.”
She stared at him.
“Have they hired us?”
“Not yet.”
“Then there's no conflict.”
“That's not for you to decide.”
Maggie took a breath.
She needed her job.
The rent was due next week.
Her savings were embarrassingly small.
She could not afford another dramatic gesture.
“Arthur, the Starlight project is important to me. I've worked on it outside office hours for months.”
“I understand your enthusiasm.”
The word made her teeth ache.
“But you're an employee of Bell & Whitcomb. Your professional work belongs here.”
“Not every drawing I make.”
“Margaret.”
He leaned forward.
“I've tolerated your little extracurricular interests because you've been useful to the firm. But I cannot allow you to damage our commercial prospects.”
Maggie stared.
“Useful.”
“Yes.”
She thought of the projects she had completed.
The presentations she had rescued.
The late nights.
The revisions.
The client meetings at which Arthur had introduced her as his assistant even when she had designed most of what appeared on the boards.
“Is that what I am?”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“Useful.”
Arthur sighed.
“Don't become emotional.”
Maggie felt something inside her go perfectly still.
She had spent years being told not to become emotional whenever she disagreed with someone.
It had never occurred to Arthur that anger could be an entirely rational response to being underestimated.
He slid a document across the desk.
“I want your assurance that you will discontinue the independent proposal.”
She looked down.
It was a formal memorandum.
Her continued employment was conditional upon withdrawing from the Starlight project.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she looked at him.
“If I refuse?”
Arthur leaned back.
“Then perhaps you should consider whether this is still the right place for you.”
Maggie stared at the paper.
She thought of the theater.
The painted stars.
Her father's little wooden stool.
The hours she had spent working on the plans.
Then she thought of the years ahead if she remained.
More drawings credited to someone else.
More promotions passed over.
More men explaining why she ought to be grateful.
She picked up the memorandum.
Arthur relaxed slightly.
Then Maggie tore it in half.
His expression changed.
“Margaret.”
She placed the pieces upon his desk.
“I think you're right.”
He frowned.
“About what?”
“This isn't the right place for me.”
She turned toward the door.
“Consider this my resignation.”
Arthur rose.
“Don't be ridiculous.”