Albatross (D7 to D6)

The meeting had not gone as planned. She'd been prepared to state her case and walk out the door, resignation tendered. But she had underestimated their resolve and the degree to which this project mattered to them. She knew that she didn't matter. Her talent and worth were relative only in terms of "the project."

Still, she was unprepared for the baldness of their negotiation. No flattery this round. No fawning acknowledgement of her reputation in the field. But for all it's bluntness there'd been no honesty either. Just a cold display of power. We own you. Until this assignment is complete, you belong to us.

Not quite. A mere power play would have infuriated her. And she would have called their bluff, even though she couldn't be sure it was a bluff. Instead she'd paused. Paused and pretended to let a slow burn settle in her, while she eyed each of them coolly. Interesting. In a curious way, they'd just made the project more intriguing. Okay, there's something else here -- under the surface. Or was that what they intended her to think? Had that been the morning's strategy: Flex a phony strong arm to indirectly inflate the importance of the assignment?

Perhaps. But she wagered not. The envelope sat on the desktop between them, exactly where she'd placed it upon entering. With one finger, she slid it back across the glass towards her, then lifted it and, in what could only be taken as a f-you gesture, held it up to them before tucking it with exaggerated care inside her camera bag.

Now, walking briskly along Market Street past the suits with cell phones, she hoisted the camera bag further up her shoulder, and let a small smile play at the corner of her mouth. It was possible her albatross was morphing into a golden goose.