Kelly stared through the rain as her heart reached for what it knew she needed—to talk to Daniel. But her head reminded her how difficult that would be after he’d leaned against the bathroom door that morning and asked in a not-so-subtle way about the need for so much makeup at work. And at the mention of competing with the supermodels Gascon had just hired, he’d just narrowed his eyes and studied her. She’d bailed out of the conversation before it became another one of those discussions.

Kelly tapped her forehead on the steering wheel. She knew who she had to talk to and punched in the number.

“Arnold Kolinsky.”

Kelly’s breath threatened to derail her. Keep it professional.

“It’s Kelly. Another sales rep went to see one of my clinics today.”

A stream of obscenities flowed into her car, surfing on a rising tide of her supervisor’s trademark bitterness. “I bet it’s Taraxa or Adversarius. What you need to do is go back there—”

“It was another rep from Rubicon.”

“Right.” Then silence.

Right?

“Was that all, Kelly?”

Is that all? She was being cut out of a job by her own company.

“This is a competitive business, so you need to compete.” Arnold’s oily breath closed off his sentence.

“But they’re my clients. What about in yesterday’s team meeting when Mr. Gascon said—”

Kelly could feel the icicles forming on the other end of this conversation.

“Mr. Gascon came to see me yesterday. In person.” The hard edge in his voice suggested this was nothing to celebrate. “He told me you challenged him over these unfounded rumors concerning Mendacium.”

Kelly shaped her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Arnold jumped into the space she’d left. “All you did yesterday was make a fool out of our entire team, but most importantly, you made a fool out of me. When you’re on company time, you put the team first. You sell the product and its wonders in treating screen addiction in children. You have your sales scripts, and you have the mentoring program if you need help reading them. You need to give 110 percent to survive in this business.”

Kelly couldn’t help herself. “Arnold, I think integrity stands out.”

A bitter laugh. “I know people with integrity. They’re the ones who take my coffee order in the morning.”

Tears welled and watered blooming resentment. Thank goodness this wasn’t a video call.

“Understood, Kelly?”

“Understood.”

Kelly hated just one thing more than not being heard, and that was being lectured. She grasped at the right way to end this call. To save face. But Arnold saved her the trouble.

Kelly rested her forehead on the steering wheel, this time unable to hold back a tsunami of tears. The job that was supposed to be temporary was day by day becoming more permanent—and was eating her alive.

*  *  *