
Because of Sexism, I Earn Half
Chapter 3
I had believed Mr. Hawthorne.
In year one, the company operated out of a puny 200-square-foot apartment in a residential neighborhood. It had been stiflingly hot in the summer and bitterly cold in the winter.
As the only woman on the team, Mr. Hawthorne had made sure to look out for me. Every month on payday, he'd slip me an extra 500 dollars to make up for the rough conditions.
"Sophia, you're a top graduate from a prestigious university. I hate putting you through this," he had admitted. Back then, everyone else had made just four grand a month, while I'd started at six grand right out of the gate.
Year two, things had started looking up. We relocated to an 861-square-foot office in a prime commercial building, and I finally had my own office.
Mr. Hawthorne was over the moon on moving day. He generously granted me a 5% raise at the end of the year, which amounted to an extra 300 dollars. That same year, Mason joined the company as my subordinate with a base salary of 8,000 dollars.
In the third year, I was barely sleeping, churning out 16 different proposals in half a month to secure Imperium Group's project. It was a massive windfall that permanently put the company on the map. My reward, however, was a cheap, wholesale award banner and a mountain of new responsibilities as the sole contact for all major accounts.
Mr. Hawthorne had patted me on the shoulder and said, "I knew I could count on you, Sophia. The future of this company rests entirely on your shoulders now."
I was 25 that year, pulling in a grand total of 6,300 dollars.
Flash forward to the fourth and fifth years; my portfolio grew, the business boomed, and we took over four entire floors of a commercial building in one fell swoop. Ironically, I lost my office in the move because Mason had been promoted to manager, and his new status required my square footage.
Mr. Hawthorn had already spotted a beer belly from all the wining and dining then. His eyes were always cloudy, jaundiced, and he radiated pure, unadulterated corporate sleaze.
"Look, don't take this the wrong way, Sophia. We passed on you for this promotion because your real strength belongs out in the field with clients, not behind a desk." Mr. Hawthorne took a drag from his cigar, acting as if he only had my best interests at heart.
"Mason may have joined the company later than you, and he may not have many achievements, but he's still a man. It's a lot more convenient for him to entertain clients at dinners. Plus, when your subordinates step out of line, a guy just has an easier time keeping them in line, wouldn't you agree?"
I had been so naive back then. I thought he had a point.
Besides, I genuinely hated being chained to a desk. So long as my boss valued me, a hollow title didn't mean a thing. Yet now, with Mason's entitled words ringing in my ears—"We're on different rungs of the ladder"—I realized what a joke I'd been.
Just then, the elevator chimed as it reached the fifth floor. I took a deep breath, walked to Mr. Hawthorne's office, and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
I pushed the door open to find Mr. Hawthorne smoking. When he saw me, he casually stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him and said lowly, "Harper already filled me in about your resignation."
He personally poured me a glass of water. "Look, I get it; you're unhappy with your salary. However, you're one of our day ones. The company has nurtured you for so many years, and now you're just going to walk out on us? That's a pretty low blow, Sophia."
There it was again. Holding the glass of water, I met his gaze calmly. "I've been with this company for six years, and I make 6,615 dollars a month, Mr. Hawthorne. That intern has only been here for three months, and he makes 12,000 dollars."
His expression stiffened for a split second before morphing into a look of solemn concern. "Yes... Well, the payroll discrepancy was a total oversight on my end. Tell you what, I'll give you another 5% raise. How does that sound?"
A 5% increase on 6,615 dollars would bring me to 6,945.75 dollars. It didn't even crack seven grand. It left me short of that intern's pay by a staggering five grand.