Chapter 11

The first of the next month arrived quietly, like a threat disguised as a date on the calendar.

Risa stared at it.

Two months.

She had only been here for two months.

It felt like two years. Possibly three. Time worked differently at Shizz Company—each Excel file aged you approximately five business days.

This month, she took on all US distributors.

All nineteen of them.

Fred, meanwhile, handled the five small Canadian files.

Risa smiled politely and said nothing, but inside her head she was screaming.

Wouldn’t it make more sense for ME—the new person—to work on the five less sensitive files instead of the nineteen most important ones that basically hold the company’s data hostage?

But she did it.

Through sheer willpower.

And caffeine.

And working past midnight most nights.

Customer Service didn’t slip. Orders still went out on time. Distributors still emailed her “Thank you!! 😊” like she was their favorite human being.

Her manager and director, however, seemed to think this was simply Correct and Expected.

Which—fine.

But she needed something to hold onto. Something that said, You’re doing okay. You’re not failing at life.

Instead, she got transcoding.

While working on one distributor’s file, she noticed something odd.

Every product name was being chopped off.

Only the first word survived.

She flagged it and shared her screen with the team.

Fred leaned over in person. Rachel joined remotely.

They stared at the file together.

Risa started filling in the ones she recognized.

Then she hit one entry.

Oil

She paused.

Oil could mean body oil. Hair oil. Face oil.

Or it could mean Oil Me, the brand.

She hesitated, then asked carefully—professionally—

“Just to confirm, does ‘Oil’ refer to body oil, or Oil Me?”

Rachel frowned.

“Why don’t you know what Oil stands for?”

Risa blinked.

“I just wasn’t sure whether it was the product category or the brand—”

“It’s obviously Oil Me,” Rachel snapped.

Oh.

Oh no.

Risa nodded quickly and typed it in.

Fred, as usual, said nothing. He might as well have been a decorative plant. This, Risa learned, was a common trait among nepo babies.

The meeting ended.

Risa barely had time to exhale before her phone rang.

Rachel.

Of course.

“You’ve already been at the company for three months,” Rachel began.

Risa glanced at her calendar.

Two.

“I—”

“You should know all of our products by now,” Rachel continued. “Oil Me is one of our most popular products! Do you even know what our most popular products are?”

Risa swallowed. “I’m aware of Oil Me, Baby Plus, and Heart’s Phone.”

Rachel scoffed. “Didn’t you already have product training?”

“Yes,” Risa said carefully. “But it was only—”

“Then how come you don’t know this yet?”

Because it was thirty minutes long.

Because I process orders all day.

Because I am not a walking SKU database.

But instead, Risa said, “It didn’t cover everything.”

Rachel pressed on. “Do you know the sellout numbers for each product? You’re an analyst—you should know these by heart.”

By heart.

Risa nodded slowly.

She hadn’t created a Power BI report listing top-selling products yet. She could—easily, actually—but memorizing 90–100 products, across 30 categories, not counting sizes?

That felt… excessive.

Still, a small voice whispered, Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’re not doing enough.

Rachel concluded, “I expect you to have all of this memorized by next week.”

Risa nodded.

The call ended.

She sat there for a moment, staring at her screen.

Then she stood up and walked to a meeting with Evelyn and Sophia for Marketing Allowance.

“I have to do product knowledge training now,” Risa said quietly.

Evelyn and Sophia looked at each other, confused.

“Why?” Evelyn asked. “You’re doing fine.”

“We’ve never been quizzed on that,” Sophia added. “Not like that.”

Risa shrugged. “Apparently, I should know everything.”

They frowned.

“That’s… not fair,” Evelyn said. “You’ve only been here two months.”

That was exactly it.

It felt like Rachel was benchmarking her against Rachel—three years in, deeply embedded, fluent in company lore.

Risa hadn’t even had time to grow.

Still, she admitted, “I probably do need more product training.”

So Evelyn and Sophia took her to the shelves.

They walked her through products. Explained names. Categories. Use cases.

Risa pointed out the ones she already knew.

“See?” Sophia said. “You don’t know nothing.”

Risa smiled weakly.

That night, at home, she pulled up the website.

She started making flashcards.

Oil Me. Baby Plus. Heart’s Phone.

She stared at the list growing longer and longer.

She told herself: Just one more thing to push through.

But for the first time, the thought crept in quietly, dangerously—

What if pushing through is the whole problem?