“What I’m doing?” She snaps at her friend before turning to me. I’m still debating whether to lead with a donkey kick or risk a punch. “Your father is a fucking crook. Did you know that?” She waves a piece of paper I recognize. A pay stub. “I worked forty-two hours last week and only got paid for thirty-nine.” She flaps her hand around again, gesturing toward the rest of the workers on the floor. “Ask them, ask them how many times it’s happened to them.”
“They’ll fix it,” her friend says, still attempting to usher Vivica back. The line stops, the noise of the conveyor that was drowning her out before doing nothing now to stop every ear from pricking our way.
“Oh, they’ll fix it, and then they’ll figure out a way to get rid of me.”
I muster up the courage to speak. “Look, I don’t have anything to do with—”
“You are his daughter!” She yells at the top of her lungs as more eyes dart my way. “Bet your paychecks aren’t short.”
“Honestly, I haven’t—”
“Haven’t looked?” She scoffs. “Of course you haven’t. Well, allow me to enlighten you, princess. He’s been doing this for years, screwing us on our overtime, shorting our checks just enough so we don’t raise too much hell. We get told over and over it will be fixed, that it’s an oversight.” She scours me and not in a flattering way. “Are you not rich enough?”
“Ma’am, I’m not…”
“Ma’am?” She harrumphs. “I’m twenty-five years old.”
“I don’t own the plant. I work here. I don’t have anything to do—”
“You’re his daughter.”
I know what that’s supposed to mean, but I’ve never lived any sort of meaningful reality behind that statement.
“It’s not as simple as that,” I try weakly to start my defense.
“Vivica, he’s got his own daughter working on this line, in this heat,” the woman says defending me, though the accusation in her eyes doesn’t quite match her tone. “I don’t think he cares much for her opinion.”
“She’s exactly right,” I finally snap back, straightening my spine to face off with her. “And he doesn’t ask for it. I have nothing to do with company polic—”
“It’s not policy. It’s theft!”
All eyes are now on me as I check out the room and see what they aren’t saying. People who’ve otherwise kept their heads down when I walk by are now looking directly at me in the same way Vivica is, their openly hostile expressions knocking the fight out of me. Maybe they’ve regarded me this way since I started, and I haven’t noticed it as much because I’ve had my head in the clouds. “I’m just working here because, well, because…”
“Are you here to spy on us?” Vivica squares up, planting her hands on her hips. There’s no way to win this battle.
“No,” I blurt out honestly, “Not at all. I’ve been…” I struggle with word choice, but what can I say? That I’ve been biding my time until I inherit my father’s money? Fire rages in my cheeks as I try and will myself out of this nightmare. “I can try to say something to him.”
“Try all you want. It won’t matter,” the friend says, trying to keep Vivica at bay. “Don’t waste your breath.”
“This is his plant,” Vivica argues, “you work here, and you want to tell me you have nothing to do with him?”
Everyone begins to crowd in as my throat dries up. I’m shaking uncontrollably now, figurative walls closing in on me. I feel suffocated, completely unprepared for the hostility directed toward me. And from the looks I’m getting—this has been a long time coming. No one is defending me. They too, want answers. Answers I don’t have. “Have you told the supervisor?”
Her smile is acidic. “You mean your boyfriend?”
“Vivica, collect yourself and get into my office, now.” Sean’s voice booms from behind me. “Now.”
“You think we are stupid, Sean? You think we can’t see what’s going on here?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “And what you’re doing right now, Vivica, you think that’s going to help your case?”
“My case? How many times have we asked you to make this right since you’ve been back?”
“I’ll get it handled,” he snaps, keeping his eyes trained on hers. “Everyone, get back on the line, now!” Everyone flies back to their places as Sean turns to me. “Take five.”