Chapter 3

I'd been working that account for two years.

They were one of the largest real estate developers in Eastreach.

The head of procurement was Michael Grant. He was in his early forties, tough, distrustful, and impossible to rush.

The first time I went to see him, I waited in the lobby for thirty minutes before they even let me upstairs.

When I finally sat down, he didn't waste time.

"We have a long-term supplier," he said. "We're not switching."

I didn't argue.

I came back the next month. I'd bring something small—not expensive, just thoughtful.

By month three, he'd talk to me for five minutes.

By month six, he asked for a quote.

By month twelve, he agreed to a small trial order.

By month eighteen, he gave me procurement access for one subsidiary.

By the twenty-fourth month, we signed. The deal was ten million dollars.

The night we closed, Michael took me out to dinner.

"Naomi," he said, "I've met a lot of sales reps. Not many stick around like you did."

I smiled, "Right place, right time."

He shook his head. "Not luck. You're solid."

Then he leaned forward. "Do you know why I ended up choosing you?"

"Why?"

"Because there was this one time when I purposely asked you a technical question, one you didn't know the answer to."

I remembered it right away.

It happened six months ago. He asked about a specific performance parameter. I hadn't had the answer.

"You didn't bluff," he said. "You told me you weren't sure and that you'd confirm.

"The next morning, you sent a detailed breakdown. Three supporting references. Clean, clear, no excuses."

He sat back. "That's when I knew. If something went wrong, you wouldn't hide it. You'd fix it. From that day on, I decided you're the one I want to work with."

I felt my throat tighten.

I'd been chasing this deal for two years.

Two years of persistence, and it had finally paid off.

*****

But the minute I went back to the office, the tone changed.

The day the contract was finalized, Jessica posted in the main WhatsApp group: [Congratulations to Sales Team One for closing a $10M deal with Horizon Development Group! This was a true team effort. Thank you to everyone involved!]

Then she tagged five names.

Mine wasn't one of them.

I stared at the message for a long time.

It got worse.

At the quarterly review meeting, Jessica presented the project recap.

"For the Horizon account," she said, clicking through her slides, "Matthew handled the initial outreach. Ethan followed up on the technical proposal. I personally reviewed and finalized the contract terms..."

She talked for ten minutes.

My name never came up.

When she finished, Jacob asked casually, "What about Naomi? Wasn't she involved?"

Jessica smiled, "Naomi supported execution. The overall delivery was a collaborative effort."

I was sitting in the corner of the conference room. I could actually feel the cold settle in my chest.

After the meeting, Matthew found me by the printers. "Naomi, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"The slides... Ms. Lewis asked me to put them together," he said quietly. "She told me not to include your name."

I didn't say anything.

"I didn't want to do it," he added, eyes red. "But I just got confirmed. I couldn't risk—"

"I know," I cut in gently. "It's not on you."

That night, I stayed late in the office, sitting alone in the dark.

I'd chased that ten‑million‑dollar deal alone for two whole years.

Yet none of the credit went to me.

When the bonuses came out, my payout was seven hundred dollars.

I never saw Jessica's exact number, but I heard it was six figures.

That was when I remembered what Michael had said.

He said, "Naomi, you're solid."

Yeah. I was.

But what did that get me here?

The person who did the work closed the deal. The person who played politics took the money.

That was the system.

*****

Still, that wasn't the moment I decided to leave.

That came three months later.

I found out I was pregnant.

I was thirty-four and married for three years. We didn't have kids.

My husband always said, "No rush. It'll happen when it happens."

But I knew time wasn't unlimited.

So when the test showed two lines, I was happy.

I was really happy.

We stood in the bathroom holding each other, both of us crying.

It felt like something had finally clicked into place.

Then I went to work.

I told Jessica privately, "I'm pregnant."

She froze for half a second. Then she smiled, "Oh, Naomi, congratulations. That's wonderful news. Your health comes first, of course."

"Thank you, Ms. Lewis."

"I'll speak with HR," she continued. "We should adjust your workload. You don't need the stress right now."

I thought she was being considerate.

A week later, I was reassigned to "Client Relations Maintenance".

Which was basically internal support.

There were no new accounts and no active deals—only calls to existing clients to "check in".

My base salary stayed the same. My performance metrics dropped to zero.

That department didn't have commission targets.

I went to her office.

I said, "Ms. Lewis, I'm pregnant, not sick. I can still work."

"Naomi," she said, smiling patiently, "you're overthinking this. It's for your own good. Sales is high-pressure. What if something happens?"

"I can manage my workload."

"The company isn't comfortable taking that risk," she replied lightly. "Focus on your pregnancy. We'll revisit your role after maternity leave."

I stood there in her doorway, looking at her composed, sympathetic face. And suddenly, it was clear.

She wasn't protecting me.

She was using this. It was the cleanest way to remove me from the sales floor for good.

I thought about filing a complaint.

But I was only a few months pregnant. I didn't want the stress.

I thought about quitting.

But job hunting while pregnant? That was a long shot.

So I stayed.

In that so-called "Client Relations Maintenance" department, I spent a full year.

I spent a whole year watching the accounts I'd built from scratch get reassigned, and my performance record got reset to zero.

I spent a year watching former peers get promoted, get raises, and move forward—while I stood still.

I kept telling myself, "Just hold on. Have the baby. Come back. Start over."