Hazel felt as though she were in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Samuel was giving her presentation with her designs. The design concepts were nearly identical, and the marketing copy was coming through Samuel’s skinny-lipped mouth! Her words. All her words. Should she say something? How could she say something? She’d sound like an idiot.

She nudged Liz’s arm to get her attention. She would whisper to Liz and ask what she should do. Liz looked over with raised eyebrows and gave her a thumbs up. She was impressed. Of course she was impressed, it was impressive stuff - but didn’t she realize how much this all sounded like her? Didn’t she realize that this was a threat to their carefully laid plans? Of course, she didn’t, because Liz had total faith in her best friend. In Liz’s mind, it didn’t matter what Samuel did up there; Hazel would have something better up her sleeve. But this time she didn’t. Her only option was to get up there and give exactly the same presentation.

Panic started creeping up the back of Hazel’s spine. There was a black hole in this room, and it was rapidly sucking all of her dreams into it. She gave Samuel the death glare, willing him with everything she had to sit down and shut up. No such luck. He was pontificating at the front of the room, striding back and forth like some Roman emperor. He was enjoying himself. Sharon exchanged smiles with her partner, Lynn. They were both nodding along to the pearls of wisdom dropping from Samuel’s mouth as though he were some kind of guru. But he wasn’t the guru… she was!  Darn it - this was her project. And not only was it her project, it was her future.

Hazel’s panic increased as she briefly considered her options if she were to lose this project. There were none. Liz had no other projects in the pipeline until September, three months away!  How could Hazel win the confidence of the Board when she wasn’t even working on a Blackwell and Crawley project? Even worse, how would Hazel pay her equity buy-in when she had no income? Thanks to Indigo, and it always seemed to come back to Indigo, she had exactly 932.17 cents in her checking account, and her savings account was a big goose egg. This was a nightmare of epic proportions, and Hazel was shocked to discover that her efficient, problem-solving, Type A brain couldn’t come up with a single plan. Should she stand up and announce that these were her ideas? Sharon would think she was crazy. Could she come up with something else to present in the next thirty minutes? Not a chance. Samuel started to waver in front of her eyes, and Hazel realized that she was tearing up. Today was a day of firsts. Hazel Blakemore was never late, and Hazel Blakemore never cried. She felt a sob building in her throat and realized that if she didn’t get out of here, she was about to have a breakdown. In front of everyone. That was a first she couldn’t allow.

“Excuse me!” Hazel stood up so fast that her chair tipped on its rolling wheels and went slamming to the floor behind her. A huge crash echoed through the room like thunder, and everyone jumped half out of their skin. “I’m sorry.” Hands shaking Hazel gathered up her bags, shoving the fallen chair aside with her calf.

“Hazel?” Liz’s eyes were pools of confused concern, but there was no time to stop and explain. She was on the edge.

“You’re leaving?” Sharon asked. “But we are so looking forward to your ideas Hazel. Are you ill?”

“Ill?” Hazel seized the word. “Yes, ill. Terribly ill. I won’t be able to present today. In fact, I might throw up on all of you if I stay.” That’s too much, Hazel, her panicked brain shrieked at her. Slow down. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Perhaps you’ll give me the opportunity to present my ideas later? Tomorrow maybe?”

Behind her, and out of view, Samuel cleared his throat. The sudden rush of disgust at this weasel of an “impresario” made her feel like she really would throw up. She moved quickly toward the conference room door.

“You know Sharon needs to make a decision today, Hazel?” Samuel said. “She told you that earlier, didn’t she?”

She didn’t answer, just rushed down the hall towards Liz’s office. Samuel was right. Sharon had told her that - and here was yet another disappointment. Hazel thought Sharon had told her the decision timeframe in confidence to give her a leg up, but so much for favoritism. Apparently she had given Samuel the same information. Pelican Key Condos was making a decision today. The project would start tomorrow. There would be no time for Hazel to come up with another idea. She was screwed.

_________

When Liz entered her office an hour later, she found Hazel in the same position she’d landed in when she’d thrown herself through Liz’s office door. She was crouched in the corner of the broad couch, head on her bent knees, stiletto heels perched on the luxurious, brown leather cushion, with her bags strewn around her.

“If you make holes in that couch with those heels I’ll have to dock it out of your next paycheck,” Liz said, sitting down gently and pulling Hazel’s hands from her tear-streaked face.

“What paycheck?” Hazel muttered. There was silence. She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her jacket sleeve. That mascara wouldn’t come out.

“What on earth happened in there Hazel? Why didn’t you stay to present? We had this all planned out. I’m not sure how I’m going to get you this equity partnership now you just handed over the most important job of your career to Samuel.” She reached over to her desk and grabbed a box of Kleenex, dropping it into her distraught friend’s lap. “Plus, what’s with the crying?  You never cry!”

“You won’t believe me if I tell you, Liz. I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Try me.”

She sniffled, swallowing the surge of panic that now seemed to be her constant companion. “That was my presentation.”

Liz smiled at her as though she were a child. “No - that was Samuel’s presentation. Yours is right there.” She pointed to Hazel’s portfolio case.

“I know mine’s right there. I put it there last night at 4:00 am when I finally went to bed after spending the prior eight hours polishing it. Open it.”

Liz opened her mouth to say something but then stopped. She hesitated and then, shaking her head, leaned over and opened the portfolio case. As the first design came into view, Liz gasped.

“You have to help me, Liz. We have to take these to Sharon.” Liz went quiet. Hazel waited for her to say something, but Liz just stared at her and scratched her nose; a nervous habit she’d had since they had roomed together at Florida State. “We’re taking them to Sharon, right? I mean, it's clear that Samuel stole my designs!”

“Or you stole his,” Liz said, ducking her head and trying to smooth the puckered dents on the couch that Hazel had left with her shoes.

“What? You think I would steal from that little weasel? You think I need to steal from anyone?” Her raised voice sounded slightly hysterical even to her own ears. Maybe she was having a nervous breakdown.

“Calm down, Hazel. Of course I don’t think you stole from him; don’t be ridiculous. But Sharon doesn’t know that. Plus, how can I expose the fact that two of our “partner consultants” could be stealing from each other? You know how nervy our clients are. They only work with the Consultants because we give them no choice, it’s an accepted practice. How accepted do you think it would be if it looked as though our partners were less than honest? We can’t say anything, Hay. I’m sorry.”

Hazel could not process the words coming out of Liz’s mouth. Liz was her best friend. Her only hope. Surely she wouldn’t abandon her now; especially as it was so clear that Samuel was a slime bucket of epic proportions. “So, what am I supposed to do? This was THE project, Liz. You just said I wouldn’t get the equity partnership without it. My whole career is in the balance right now.”

Liz stood up and moved to her desk to grab her planner. “Okay, let’s not panic.” She flipped frantically through the pages. It sure looked like she was panicking. “This won’t be the last equity partnership to open up. In fact, at the last Board meeting, they were discussing another possibility in about eighteen months. Just let me check my calendar here.”

“Eighteen months!?” Hazel stood and felt herself wobble. “I can’t wait eighteen months, Liz! What am I supposed to do for the next three months until you have work again? You know I haven’t been making connections with any other agencies. All of my eggs are in your basket. I’m broke!”

“I know, Hay. I know! But what do you want me to do? My hands are tied.” Liz lowered the planner back to the desk. She looked as if she might cry herself. “I’m sorry, Hay.”

“Great!” Hazel started frantically gathering up all of her mockups and shoving them back in her portfolio. She needed to get out of here and think. “This is just great, Liz. My best friend is leaving me in the lurch. Broke, without a job prospect on the horizon. Just great!”

“Not fair!  You’re not broke because of me. You’re broke because of Indigo, and you know it! Listen, you’ve been just as important to me on the job front as I have been to you. You’ve saved me a couple of times, and you make me look really good. I’m sorry that I didn’t encourage you to build freelance relationships with other companies, but the projects I’ve sent your way have been more than enough for you to be comfortable over a lull. You’re a freelancer Hay; you have to expect lulls. Maybe you should go to Indigo and ask for help.”

“Hah!” She threw her laptop bag over her shoulder and headed for Liz’s office door. “Good one Liz. That’s a good one. Don’t call me!”

She made every effort to slam the door behind her, but the heavy glass just swished across the thick carpet. It was a crappy exit to end a crappy day.