The smirk on his face froze solid. His eyes shifted from shock to irritation, then landed on pure embarrassment.
He forced out a stiff laugh. "Bro, I was kidding. That's above my pay grade."
I ignored him and turned to my computer, sorting through my files.
Kenneth draped one arm over the glass partition of my cubicle.
The other arm planted itself on my desk. He leaned in, watching my face with that lazy, entitled look.
"Ronnie, Edmund wants you to hand over all the Cloudridge client files. Everything."
"Everything?"
"Yeah. Proposals, material quotes, contact agreements, and the design drafts."
He blew a lazy smoke ring, watching me like he had all the time in the world.
Last month, Cloudridge had requested a lighting design package. Kenneth submitted over a dozen proposals. Every single one got rejected.
On the last day before the deadline, he called me at midnight begging for help.
I pulled an all-nighter to finish it.
The next morning, he walked in with my designs and took full credit.
When Edmund reported to the boss, he said the entire design department had worked overtime to get it done.
I nodded.
"Fine. I'll organize them and send them over."
He smiled, satisfied, and turned to leave.