My boss Harper believed she had all the power when she told me I had to watch her kids or lose my job. That arrogant ultimatum, though, was the worst thing she ever did in her job and the best thing that ever happened to me. She wanted to be the boss. She gave me freedom and a front-row seat to see her come apart.
Let me start from the start.
The first thing I did was get a job as a marketing assistant at a medium-sized architecture firm in Austin. Even though it wasn’t flashy, I genuinely appreciated the team and the possibility to grow. That is, until Harper took over as my supervisor six months ago.
This is what Harper looks like.
She was confident and knowledgeable, and she walked into our building like she owned it, even though she had just moved from a more prestigious firm in New York. Her clothes said, “I’m doing well.” She was quite confident, and people were drawn to her. She’d show up in her navy blue Audi, stroll in wearing sunglasses, and within minutes of entering any meeting, she’d start using buzzwords like “synergy” and “personal brand.”
I have to say that I liked her at first.
“Naomi, you pay a lot of attention to details,” she said to me once during a brainstorming session. “That’s the kind of person I want by my side.”
It was amazing to be seen when other supervisors had made them invisible.
But Harper’s charm was a mask that came off swiftly.
At first, she just talked too much. She and her ex-husband, Lucas, had a lot of troubles. They kept talking about how hard it was to raise their daughters, Audrey and Grace, together. Tales of how Lucas had cheated on her with his paralegal and now wanted to see her more often.
One afternoon, when I was trying to go over campaign figures, Harper leaned on my cubicle and said, “They’re better off without him.” “He never understood what it meant to be a father.”
Then, during a Zoom team meeting, Audrey and Grace came into her home office in the middle of a talk and started fighting over who got the final cookie. Instead of turning off her microphone, Harper started a live diatribe about Lucas.
“I can’t trust that guy because of this!” She screamed, and the rest of us were shocked and didn’t know where to look.
Things just kept getting worse.
She started giving me pictures of the papers she needed to get a divorce. I saw everything, from the custody arrangements to the battles over who got the lakehouse.
At first, I felt bad for her. She always looked exhausted, and she devoured protein bars between meetings and scratched her temples when she thought no one was watching. I believed she was just having a hard time, so I leaned in to help.
That’s where I messed up.
Harper believed that my friendliness meant yes.
One day, she gave me a $400 blazer and asked, “Naomi, can you take this to the dry cleaner for me during lunch?” “You do a great job of doing more than one thing at a time.”
I thought it was just a one-time favor. Then she requested me to set up dentist appointments for her daughters.
“You’re really good at that online stuff,” she said. “I swear, I still don’t know how to use Google Calendar.”
At 6 a.m., there were text messages, and at 11 p.m., there were Slack pings. “Can you redo my deck for the Tyler proposal by the end of the day?” or “I totally forgot to get ready for the pitch on Monday.” “Can you write a summary tonight?”
It never stopped.
Whenever I talked about limitations, she would praise me in a way that made me feel bad. “Naomi, you’re my rock star!” You can trust me.
At first, I thought this would just endure for a short period. She had a lot to do. But I began to dread checking my inbox. One night as I was eating dinner, she sent me a long message with an impossible deadline. She included a heart emoji at the end.
At that point, I knew I wasn’t just feeling stressed. Someone was using me.
So the next day, I decided to say something.
I went into her office, shut the door, and spoke as softly as I could:
“Harper, I’m your marketing assistant, not your personal assistant.” I can’t keep running your life.
She looked at me like I had told her I was going to set the building on fire.
“Oh, sweetie,” she said with a smile. People say, “A happy boss makes a happy team.”
Then she sat back and let the bomb land.
She said, “I’m glad you brought this up.” “Because I need you to keep an eye on the girls tonight.” I have a date. Don’t bother coming in on Monday if you don’t help. That’s all there is to it.
“Are you really going to fire me for looking after your kids?” I asked.
“I’m not threatening,” she answered in a calm voice. “I’m giving you a chance to show that you can work together.” You help me, and I’ll help you.
What did Harper not know?
That morning, I had agreed to a new job.
For the last three weeks, I had been secretly looking for employment during my lunch breaks. I signed my offer that day. A better company. A better way of life. A boss who knows how to say no. Now I just had to wait for my notice period to end.
But what about Harper’s small threat?
I thought she should have an ending.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll be there at six.”
Harper seemed as self-satisfied as ever. “Naomi, I knew you could do it.”
That night, I got at her condo in West Austin just on time. Audrey and Grace were already in their pajamas and only half-watching a Disney+ show. They seemed like decent kids—polite, quiet, and a touch tired.
Harper hardly looked at them as she rushed around adjusting her makeup and yelled into her Bluetooth earpiece. She gave me a list of rules for the night and pointed to the fridge.
“On the counter, there’s money for pizza.” They had to be in bed by 8. The Wi-Fi password is in the fridge. In the drawer are emergency contacts.
Then she left, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive perfume and closing the door behind her.
I waited exactly 15 minutes to be sure she was gone. Then I pulled out my phone and typed the message I had been wanting to send:
“Thanks for tonight, Harper.” It helped me decide what to do. I obtained a new job, and on Monday I’ll tell my boss I’m leaving. Oh, and I also called Lucas. He’s going to get Grace and Audrey now.
That wasn’t a joke.
One of the several emails she sent me by mistake included Lucas’s number in it. I had texted him earlier in the day and told him everything. He said he will come straight immediately.
Lucas showed there twenty minutes later.
He looked tired, like he had to struggle for time with his kids, but his face lit up when Audrey and Grace raced up to him.
He added softly, “I’ve been trying to see them more.” “But Harper makes it impossible.”
I told them, “They have a right to know their dad.”
I helped the girls pack their bags. Before I left, I put a note on the kitchen counter where Harper couldn’t miss it.
“You hired a marketing assistant, not a babysitter.” You sought loyalty, but you used it against them. You needed help, but you chose to be in charge. “Have someone else put your pieces back together.”
I then exited and locked the door behind me.
Harper saw my message right away, and my phone was filled with texts and voicemails. Some were angry, some were guilty, and some were desperate pleas.
I just heard one voicemail.
After that, I blocked her phone number.
Two weeks later, I went to my new office. A bright, open room where everyone on the staff got along. Alana, my new boss, smiled at me and gave me the materials I needed to get started.
Don’t play with people’s sentiments. No texting after 11 p.m. No trips to the laundromat.
Just do your job and be polite.
What was the most essential thing I learned?
When someone says, “Happy boss, happy team,” think about who is really happy and what you are giving up to keep them that way.
Because there are times when not climbing the ladder is the greatest thing to do.
It’s the one that’s making you exhausted that you should leave.