Three Years of Excellence, Promoted to the Boss’s Niece

“The promotion list. My name wasn’t on it.” On the huge screen at the annual company gala, the words were printed in stark black and white: Marketing Supervisor—Lily Duffer. I held my champagne flute, and my hand didn’t so much as tremble. Lily Duffer. Three months with the company. Zero results to her name. My director, Mr. Peterson, walked over and clapped me on the shoulder. “Sarah,” he said, his voice oozing false sympathy, “Lily’s my niece. Young people have that fire, you know? I’m confident she’s up to the task.” I just looked at him. Three consecutive years as Employee of the Year. Twelve major projects led. Over 800 hours of overtime logged annually. None of it mattered more than the word “uncle.” “Of course,” I said, a small, tight smile playing on my lips. “Congratulations to our new supervisor.” Peterson paused, the meaning behind my tone flying completely over his head. But I knew exactly what I meant. My resume was already updated.

1. After the gala, I sat alone at my desk. Half the office lights were already out, leaving the floor steeped in the dim, humming glow of the emergency lamps. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my biggest client, Mr. Harrison. “Sarah, heard your department got a new supervisor?” “Yes,” I typed back. “Is it you?” My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long moment. “No.” Mr. Harrison didn’t reply. I set my phone down and leaned back in my chair, the worn leather groaning under my weight. Five years. I joined this company in December 2019, fresh out of college. Back then, the marketing department was just me, and Mr. Peterson was still just a manager. I’d done it all—tramped through muddy construction sites, spent days in dusty factories, and once stood for three hours outside a client’s office in sub-zero weather. Mr. Harrison was one of the accounts I’d built from scratch, one business card at a time. The first time we met, he wouldn’t even look me in the eye. “Is this all your company has?” he’d sneered. “Sending a little girl to do a man’s job.” I showed up at his office every single day for a week. Finally, he let me in. Our first deal was for a hundred thousand dollars. Now, Mr. Harrison signs contracts worth over a million dollars a year. And today, the promotion went to Lily Duffer. Lily, who’d been here for three months. Lily, Mr. Peterson’s niece. I stood up and walked to the window. My reflection stared back, a woman who looked five years older than her twenty-eight years. I’d poured the best five years of my life into this place. Employee of the Year, three years running. Top performer in the department. A year-end bonus of one thousand dollars. I let out a dry, bitter laugh. One thousand dollars. What could that buy? It could buy the hollow promise of, “Keep up the great work, Sarah. You’ll be next.” Mr. Peterson said that every single year. This year, he finally made good on his promise. For his niece. My phone buzzed again. It was Diane, a veteran on the team who’d been here a couple of years longer than me. “Sarah, you okay?” “I’m fine.” “We all thought it was going to be you.” I didn’t answer. What good did “we all thought” do? All that mattered was that Mr. Peterson thought it should be Lily. I shut down my phone, grabbed my purse, and headed for the elevators. Down the hall, Lily was posing for photos with a few colleagues. She was radiant in a new designer dress, her makeup flawless, her smile blindingly bright. She saw me and waved. “Sarah! Come get a picture with us!” I stopped. “No, thank you.” “Why not?” She skipped over, her voice a cascade of cheerful ignorance. “Sarah, we’re going to be in the trenches together now! You’ll have to help me out, okay?” She sounded so innocent, so genuinely unaware of whose position she had just stolen. Or maybe she knew. And just didn’t care. I looked at her. Twenty-four years old, a recent graduate, three months on the job, earning ninety thousand a year. I’d been here five years, and my salary was seventy-five thousand. She was already making fifteen thousand more than me. “Supervisor Duffer,” I said, my voice even. “If you run into anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask.” Lily blinked, unable to tell if I was being polite or sarcastic. “Okay! Thanks, Sarah, you’re the best!” I turned and stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors slid shut, I saw her whispering to her friends, laughing and gesturing in my direction. I pressed the button for the ground floor. As the elevator descended, I pulled out my phone and opened the LinkedIn app. My profile had been updated yesterday. I didn’t start looking today. I started the third time Mr. Peterson told me, “You’ll be next.” I’m not stupid. I was just waiting for the final verdict. Today, it came in. I lost to an uncle. So I was done playing the game.

2. The next day, Lily officially took charge. She sent a message to the department’s group chat: “Hi everyone! I’m your new supervisor, Lily Duffer! I’m so excited to be working with all of you. Please show me the ropes!” A flood of replies followed: “Welcome, Lily!” “So great to have you leading us!” “Excited to work with you!” I didn’t reply. Diane sent me a private message. “Did you see that?” “I did.” “Makes you want to puke, doesn’t it?” I didn’t answer. At ten a.m., Mr. Peterson called me into his office. “Sarah, have a seat.” I sat. “Lily’s new, and she’s not quite up to speed on our operations yet. I need you to train her.” I stared at him. “Train her?” “Yes. You’re a senior employee, you have the experience. It’s your job to guide the newcomers,” Peterson said with a placid smile. “Young professionals need to have perspective, Sarah. Don’t get caught up in the small stuff.” Perspective. There was that word again. My first year, when I worked until two in the morning, he told me, “Young people need to be able to handle hardship.” My second year, when I landed the company’s biggest client, he told me, “Young people need to stay humble.” My third year, when I won Employee of the Year, he told me, “Young people need to see the bigger picture.” And now, after his niece snatched my promotion, he was telling me, “Young people need to have perspective.” “Mr. Peterson,” I said. “I can train her.” “Ah, I knew you’d understand, Sarah. You’re always such a team player—” “But,” I cut him off. “I’d like to confirm something first. What is Supervisor Duffer’s salary?” Peterson froze. “Well… I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” “Then let me ask another question,” I said, my eyes locked on his. “My salary hasn’t increased in five years. Is that because the company isn’t performing well?” The color drained from his face. “Sarah, what are you trying to say?” “Nothing,” I said, standing up. “I’ll get Supervisor Duffer familiar with our business.” I turned and walked out. From behind me, Peterson’s voice followed, strained and sharp. “Sarah, I don’t appreciate this attitude!” I didn’t look back. When I got to my desk, Lily was already there, perched on the edge of it. “Sarah!” she chirped, leaning in conspiratorially. “My uncle said you’d be training me! That’s so great! I was so nervous about doing this alone.” I booted up my computer. “What do you want to learn?” “How do you handle the client-facing stuff? I’ve never really done sales before.” Never done sales. The head of the marketing department had never done sales. I took a slow, deep breath. “Client relations starts with understanding their needs—” “Wait, Sarah,” Lily interrupted. “Mr. Harrison is your client, right?” “He is.” “He’s so amazing! A million-dollar account!” Her eyes were sparkling. “My uncle said I should spend more time with him, you know, to learn from the best.” I turned my head to look at her. “You want to work with Mr. Harrison?” “Yep! My uncle said that a client that important should be managed directly by the supervisor.” A cold, sharp laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Lily, I built that account from nothing. I’ve been managing it for five years.” “Exactly! So I can help take some of the pressure off you!” “Are you sure about that?” “Totally!” she said, brimming with unearned confidence. “I may not have sales experience, but I’m a super fast learner!” I looked at her bright, innocent face. It must be nice. To have done nothing and yet feel entitled to everything. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll set up a meeting with Mr. Harrison for you.” “Really? Sarah, you’re amazing!” I turned back to my screen. My phone vibrated. It was a message from a recruiter. “Ms. Miller, we’ve received your application. Do you have a moment to chat on the phone this week?” I glanced over at Lily. She was taking a selfie to post on Instagram. I replied to the recruiter. “I can call you tomorrow at three p.m.” Perspective, right? My perspective was about finding a better road for myself.

3. At three p.m. the next day, I took an hour of personal time and went outside to take the call. The recruiter was a man with a crisp, professional voice. “Ms. Miller, your resume is very impressive. Three-time Employee of the Year, managing the company’s largest account with an annual value of over a million dollars.” “That’s right.” “We have a few positions we’d like to recommend, all at the Marketing Director level.” Marketing Director. Two steps above my current role. “What industry are you most interested in?” I thought for a moment. “I’m open to any industry. I’m prioritizing compensation and room for growth.” “Understood,” he said, pausing. “There’s one opportunity that might particularly interest you. It’s with a direct competitor of your current company. They’re looking for a new Head of Marketing.” “A competitor?” “Yes. The salary they’re offering is around $150,000, with a performance-based bonus at the end of the year.” One hundred and fifty thousand. More than double what I was making now. “Could you tell me more?” “Of course. Their marketing efforts have been lackluster in the past, but they’re under new ownership and are looking to expand aggressively. Your experience, and your client relationships, are exactly what they need.” Client relationships. I knew what he meant. “I’ll think about it.” “Excellent. Please let me know.” After hanging up, I stood on the sidewalk below my office building and lit a cigarette. I don’t usually smoke. But today, I needed it. My phone buzzed again. A text from Lily. “Sarah, is the meeting with Mr. Harrison set up yet?” I replied: “Yes. Next Wednesday at two p.m.” “Awesome! You’ll come with me, right?” I didn’t answer. That night, I opened my laptop and started organizing my client files. Five years had left me with a portfolio of over thirty clients, five of them major accounts. Mr. Harrison was the biggest. I had chased down every single one of them. Some of them didn’t even acknowledge Mr. Peterson. They dealt only with me. Mr. Harrison was one of them. I remembered a dinner we’d had last year. After a few drinks, he’d said, “Sarah, if you ever leave that company, you give me a call. I’ll follow you.” I’d dismissed it as drunken rambling at the time. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I opened my web browser and carefully reread the job description for the competitor’s position. The company was a similar size to my current one, but it was on an upward trajectory. A salary of $150,000. A year-end bonus with no cap. And most importantly, Head of Marketing. The power to make decisions. No more listening to Mr. Peterson talk about “perspective.” I bookmarked the job posting. Then I opened my contacts and found Mr. Harrison’s number. I composed a text, then deleted it. Not yet. First, I needed the offer in hand. Then I would make my move.