Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,78
right. I . . . I’ve thought a lot about that since then.”
Henry’s jaw ticked, and a vein in his neck popped out. He closed his eyes briefly as if he were picturing it all in his mind. I squeezed his hand to let him know I was there and I was listening.
“So after we broke up, everyone at work—at least the people who knew, which at this point was a lot of people—started talking about us, about the breakup. It was a he said/she said sort of scenario. Although I never said anything. But Claire,”—he paused to let out a shaky breath—“she seemed to talk to anyone who’d listen. At first it was just about the job, but then she started telling people things I’d said about them—things I’m not proud of—that were said in confidence while we were dating. Things that were said to someone I thought I could trust. Some people complained about me to HR. I was brought in and reprimanded. It wasn’t long after that, a mate of mine who worked at the station I was at previously told me he’d gotten wind of how ‘difficult’ I was to work with. You understand how word travels fast in this industry.”
I gave Henry a nod. I did understand. All too well. I had a viral video that would probably haunt me forever. Because of it, finding another job in this industry could prove to be nearly impossible. Luckily, I hadn’t had the need to try.
Henry continued. “That same mate gave me the advice to just let it lie, stay out of trouble, and it would pass. So that’s what I did. But things didn’t get better—they got worse. Claire started ridiculing everything I did, making it seem like I was unfit for the position. Telling everyone that I wasn’t right for the job.”
I took my hand out of his and ran it up his arm. I was hurting for him, but at the same time felt so grateful to be able to touch him, to console him like that. “So then what happened?” I asked.
“I’m not really sure all that went down, but what I do know is that Claire seemed to be above reproach with the higher-ups and rarely listened to anything I had to say. As someone above her, it made things extra difficult. I went to HR to see what could be done, but the blame was put back on me. I was told that I needed to be able to handle these kinds of situations if I was ever going to make it in this business. And then . . . not much after that, Claire got caught taking some tickets to a football game that were gifted to the station, tickets that were quite coveted. When she was brought into HR the next day, she told them I gave them to her. I was marched into HR and unceremoniously let go.”
“Oh my gosh,” I said, my eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I tried, but at this point there were so many rumors going around, so many stories, that it didn’t matter what I said.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s awful, Henry. So then what? How did you end up here, in the States?”
“I didn’t wait too long to look for a new position. I started putting out some feelers and applied for some jobs, but no one was really hiring. It’s not an easy industry to get into, as you well know. I couldn’t afford my rent, wasn’t sure what I was going to do for work, so I found someone to take over my room at the flat I was sharing with a friend and went home to Mum and Dad’s, tail between my legs. My dad didn’t hold back the told-you-sos. He warned me that what happened between Claire and me could have been much worse, that he’d represented employment cases that were awful—ones that ruined lives. He lectured me many times on how irresponsible it was to date someone from work.”
His eyes met mine, his lips turned downward. I was beginning to see the full picture now.
“So when another mate of mine that was working here in the States told me I could come stay with him and see if I might find something here, I jumped at the chance. My mum was quite sad, my dad was disappointed even more. But I felt like I needed to go, to get out of there and start fresh, you know?