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through the massive complex of buildings, I finally found the entrance for my office building. It was nothing spectacular and quite frankly, it looked like my co-workers had been working out of a temporary space. No décor on the walls, a drab paint job, and standard light-brown, yucky indoor/outdoor carpeting. Little did I know this would be even more temporary for me than it seemed. My first meeting of the day was with my new manager, Barbra. She was oddly petite, super chic, and wore red, cat-eye frames. I admired her bold style. I’d met her once before when she briefly came through the Los Angeles office on business.
    The new situation was a complete contrast from my former manager in Los Angeles who turned out to be an insecure bitch who carried herself like a mix between a frumpy Wicked Witch of the West and a homely, wannabe, redheaded version of Carrie Bradshaw. She was a sad sight.
    The Los Angeles Hollywood entertainment scene was large but small at the same time. I’d heard outrageous stories about my old manager before deciding to work with her. She used to fight with her subordinates, even going so far as to have screaming matches, which is completely unprofessional. But I needed the experience the job offered and I was up for the challenge. I gave my all on the job, following the lead of my Jolie. But the one thing that I would never do was allow myself to be disrespected.
    I managed to do my work, fly under the drama radar, and stick it out in the Los Angeles office long enough for my boss to go on an unexpected leave of absence. That’s when I saw my opportunity to flee to the New York office. And I took it. The Wicked Witch of the West wasn’t around to object to my transfer request.
    Before my departure to New York, I was in the office working on a project when one of the partners in the agency called in from the road. He needed a favor. This was typical since he was rarely ever in the office. He asked that I go into his office and retrieve specific information from his computer. I thought nothing of it and gladly agreed. He gave me his password and told me to call him back once I had the information. I rushed into his massive corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows and sat at his spacious, modern, glass desk to retrieve the files. I phoned him from his desk and supplied the information requested.
    When I hung up the phone, I clicked on the start menu to log out of his computer, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wonder what that wicked witch has been saying about me? My boss was a habitual shit talker.
    I had great intuition and when I followed it, I was never steered wrong. At that moment, alone in the partner’s office, it was all too easy. His email inbox was already open, so I hit the search buttonand began to look through the emails that were from my manager. I was on edge and my eyes were scanning the screen at a rapid pace. Any one of my coworkers could’ve walked in without notice and caught me in the act.
    My hands were slightly shaking, but I clicked through as much information as I could as fast as I could, skimming through the emails that caught my attention. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. What I read blew my mind! The woman was crazy and insecure, but I did not know that she was actually out to sabotage me.
    The first email, from only two days prior, read: “So now you are letting her transfer to New York. I thought that you were going to fire that bitch?” She actually referred to me as a bitch! I was in shock. His response, “If she requested to go, then I’m going to let her go. We can take care of everything else later.”
    This was my first lesson in how truly treacherous and foul people can be in the business world—especially in entertainment. Oftentimes, it’s not about the work that you do. It’s about how much ass you kiss to make people like you.
    I finished scanning a few more scandalous