My Three Million Dollar Sabotage Chapter 2

It was the end of the year.

Annual bonuses were being paid out.

I didn't hold out much hope.

But I still couldn't stop myself from calculating.

Three years into the job, my base salary was $65,000.

The company policy stated the bonus was based on annual performance. My average completion rate was 35%. Pro-rata, I should at least get one month’s salary, right?

About $5,400.

It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to send Mom a nice check.

That afternoon, a message popped up in the Finance chat.

"Annual Bonuses have been distributed. Please check your accounts."

I opened my banking app.

Balance: $8,547.32.

No change.

I refreshed the page.

Still no change.

I went to the Finance Department.

"Jenna Hayes? You didn't receive an annual bonus this year."

"Why not?"

"Failure to meet performance targets." The finance officer kept her head down, staring at her screen. "Your annual average completion rate was below 40%. Per policy, no bonus."

"But—"

"That’s a mandate from Ella. If you have an issue, take it up with her."

I stood frozen at the entrance to the Finance office.

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

"Excuse me, please."

I stepped aside.

Olivia walked past, clutching a stack of papers.

"Jenna? What are you doing here?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

Olivia smiled. "The bonus was great this year. Five months' salary!"

Five months.

Her base salary was higher than mine. Five months was easily a six-figure payout.

I got zero.

"Congratulations," I mumbled.

"Thanks." Olivia was already walking away. "We're going out to celebrate tonight. Want to come?"

"No, I have plans."

I walked back to my desk and sat down.

Across from me, Ben was counting money, a grin on his face.

"Thirty-eight hundred, not bad at all."

Patrice, the woman next to me, leaned over. "Mine was decent too. Thirty-five hundred."

The chatter turned into a lively debate about how to spend the money: new phones, travel plans, designer bags for spouses.

No one asked me.

They all knew.

At five-thirty, Ella emerged from her office.

"Jenna, a moment."

I followed her inside.

Ella sat down and gestured for me to take a seat.

"Did Finance talk to you about the bonus?"

"Yes."

"And what are your thoughts?"

I looked at her, not sure what she wanted to hear.

"No thoughts."

"Jenna." Ella sighed, a performance of weary concern. "It’s not that I don’t want to give you one, but your performance is truly awful. This company values results. You understand that, right?"

"I understand."

"Look at Olivia. She consistently over-performs. Look at Ben. He’s a rookie, and he’s hitting 100%. What about you?"

My head was bowed.

"You’ve been here three years, and you’re always at the bottom. Frankly, any other company would have fired you a long time ago."

"..."

"I’ve protected you, Jenna, you know that? Every time the CEO asks, I tell him you're improving, you're trying. But then you pull a 35% average."

Ella’s voice rose slightly.

"Are you taking advantage of me?"

I looked up. Her face was etched with disappointment.

I couldn't tell if the disappointment was real or just part of the act.

"Ella, I..."

"Never mind." Ella waved me off. "Go home and think about this. If you pull this again next year, I won't be able to save your job."

"Okay."

I stood up to leave.

"Jenna."

I stopped.

"I’m doing this for your own good."

"I know."

I left her office and returned to my desk.

My computer screen was still on, showing the client list for January.

Thirty-five accounts.

All new, cold leads.

I scrolled down, trying to see Olivia’s list, but my permissions were blocked.

I closed the window and started packing my bag.

Mom was waiting for my call.

She would ask about the bonus.

I thought for a moment, then said: "Just over a grand. Nothing huge."

"That’s plenty, sweetheart! You keep it for yourself. Your father and I are fine." Mom sounded overjoyed.

"Mhm."

"Jenna, everything going well at work?"

"Perfectly smooth."

"That’s good. That’s very good."

I hung up, sitting on the subway, watching the dark tunnel flash past the window.

A thousand dollars.

I didn't even have a hundred.

When I got home, my roommate, Skylar, was already cooking.

"You’re back. Eat yet?"

"No."

"Good. I made extra. Let’s eat."

I dropped my bag and sat at the dining table.

Skylar carried two plates out. "What’s wrong? You look awful."

"No bonus."

"What?" Skylar paused. "Why?"

"Didn't meet the target."

"But you’re always the last one to leave!" Skylar frowned. "Didn’t you tell me you visited over twenty clients last month?"

"Twenty-three."

"And still nothing?"

"Nothing." I picked at my food. "My colleague got five months' pay; I got zero."

Skylar put down her fork and looked at me.

"Jenna, don't you think something is off?"

"What do you mean?"

"You get in earlier and leave later than everyone else. You see more clients than anyone else. Why is your performance the worst?"

I stayed silent.

"Did it ever occur to you that the problem isn't you?"

"But... my completion rate is low, Skylar. It’s a fact."

"Low completion rate?" Skylar scoffed. "Do you know what kind of clients they're assigning everyone else?"

I looked at her blankly.

"You get nothing but cold, new leads. They get renewals and existing accounts. What's the closing rate on a cold lead? Maybe 20% if you're lucky. A renewal? Eighty percent plus."

I clutched my fork, speechless.

"Jenna, don't be an idiot," Skylar said, shaking her head. "Are you being set up?"

"No way..."

"No way? Then you tell me," Skylar challenged. "Why do you always get the hardest accounts? Why are you always driving four hours into the next county?"

I tried to argue, but the words caught in my throat.

Because she was telling the truth.

"I'm telling you," Skylar said. "Go look. Find out how those KPI targets are really distributed."

"How?"

"Find a way."

I couldn't sleep that night.

Lying in bed, Skylar’s words hammered in my head.

Set up?

It felt crazy.

I didn't have a feud with Ella. We weren't enemies.

Why would she deliberately sabotage me?

But...

Why was I always assigned the most difficult clients?

Why was my completion rate always the lowest?

Why, in three years, had I never received a single cent of the annual bonus?

I grabbed my phone and navigated to the company intranet.

Where was the KPI Allocation Spreadsheet?

I searched for an hour. Nothing.

Insufficient access permissions.

I pulled up the client list Ella had sent, the one for January, and went over it carefully.

Thirty-five accounts.

All new, cold leads.

One client was three hours away by train.

Another was notoriously difficult; the last salesperson assigned to them quit after six months without a single contract.

A third was just snatched by our biggest competitor, and I was expected to steal it back.

I then dug through my old emails and found Olivia’s client list from the previous month.

She had accidentally 'Reply All'd' to the entire team instead of just Ella.

Twelve accounts.

Eight renewals, three referrals, and one new lead—and that new lead was a subsidiary of the company's largest existing client.

I stared at the two lists.

Her twelve, my thirty-five.

Her eight renewals, my zero.

She drives thirty minutes; I drive three hours.

I felt a strange urge to laugh.

So that was it.

It had been like this all along.