Chapter 5

The next morning, Ashley walked into the office with a calm determination that even she didn’t expect to feel. She was still tired, sure—her eyes carried the weight of sleepless nights and stress—but this time, she wasn’t dragging herself in defeat.

She had made a decision.

Pagkapasok niya, she placed her bag down, took a deep breath, and opened her email. At the top was a follow-up from Danielle: “Have you made the corrections I asked for? Expecting the updated deck on my desk by 10AM.”

Ashley glanced at the clock. 9:17 AM.

She opened the deck—she hadn’t worked on it yet. And for once, she wasn’t panicking. Instead, she carefully drafted a reply:

“Hi Danielle,

I appreciate your detailed feedback on the presentation. Some of your comments will require more time to properly implement, and I’d like to request clarification on a few of the points. Would you be open to discussing these in person before I proceed? I want to make sure I’m meeting expectations efficiently and not working on assumptions.

Let me know if you’re available.

Thanks,

Ashley.”

And she hit send.

She barely had time to sip her coffee before her phone rang—Danielle.

"Hi Danielle, good morning,” Ashley answered, voice steady.

“Come to my office. Now.”

Inside Danielle’s glass-walled office, the tension was as cold as the air conditioning. Danielle sat behind her desk, tablet in hand, brows knitted. She didn’t offer Ashley a seat.

Ashley stood straight, holding her notebook and pen.

“You wanted clarification?” Danielle asked, without looking up. “It’s all in the email. I don't see what’s hard to understand.”

Ashley nodded slowly. “Yes, I saw the notes. Pero may ilang points lang po that seemed to contradict the approved strategy from the last review.”

Danielle finally looked up. Her eyes narrowed.

“You're questioning my feedback now?”

Ashley stood her ground. “I’m not questioning your authority. I'm asking for clarity so I can deliver what you're expecting, and not waste time on work that might get redone again.”

Danielle leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “Is this about what happened during the last meeting? Because if you're still hung up on that, I suggest you learn to take criticism. This is a fast-paced environment, Ashley. Hindi ito lugar para sa mga overly sensitive.”

Ashley’s jaw tightened at the word sensitive. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I understand that, and I’m always open to feedback. Pero sa totoo lang po, I’ve been consistently handling tasks outside of my original scope. I’ve been staying late, working weekends, and adjusting presentations multiple times without clear direction.”

Danielle’s expression didn’t change. “That’s what’s expected at your level. If you can’t handle pressure, maybe you’re not ready for this role.”

Ashley blinked, her heart thudding, but she didn’t back down.

“With all due respect, Danielle, I know I’ve handled pressure well. But I also believe that productivity doesn’t come from fear. I want to do good work—but I need clear communication and manageable expectations.”

Danielle was silent for a moment. Then she laughed, short and sharp. “Is this a speech? Are you trying to lecture me about how to manage my team?”

Ashley met her gaze. “No. I'm speaking up for myself. Kasi for months, tahimik lang ako. Ginagawa lahat. But yesterday, when I reviewed your comments… I realized that no matter how hard I work, if the standard keeps shifting, I’ll keep failing.”

There was a pause. Danielle stood up and walked to the window, arms folded. She stayed there for a moment before speaking again.

“You think I’m hard on you?” she asked, without turning around.

Ashley blinked at the question. It felt rhetorical, but it was laced with something deeper.

“I think… you’re under a lot of pressure, too,” Ashley replied carefully. “And maybe that pressure is trickling down to us in ways that aren’t helping.”

Danielle finally turned, her face unreadable. “You know, when I was your age, I didn’t complain. I just delivered. That’s how I got here.”

Ashley nodded. “And that’s admirable. But times are changing. People are burning out. Good employees are leaving—not because they can’t handle the work, but because they feel invisible, or replaceable.”

Danielle’s lips pressed together. For the first time, Ashley saw a flicker of something behind her eyes—fatigue, maybe? Frustration? It wasn’t anger anymore.

“I’m not trying to rebel,” Ashley added softly. “I just want to stay—without breaking.”

Danielle sat back down, slower this time. She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she tapped her pen against the table, thinking.

“You’re… braver than I expected,” she muttered. “Most people just nod and keep going.”

Ashley exhaled, just a little. “I used to. But I’ve reached my limit.”

Danielle’s eyes met hers again. “Alright. Let’s do this. Send me a version of the deck with the changes you believe are necessary. We’ll review it together—10:30. I’ll carve out time.”

Ashley blinked. “So… you’re okay with that?”

Danielle raised an eyebrow. “Don’t push your luck. I’m not going soft. But… I’m willing to try something different.”

Ashley nodded, suppressing a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll send it within the hour.”

As she turned to leave, Danielle called after her.

“And Ashley?”

She looked back.

“Keep that backbone. You’re going to need it.”

Ashley smiled faintly. “Noted, ma’am.”

Back at her desk, Ashley opened the deck again—this time, on her own terms. Her hands were still slightly trembling, but inside, something had shifted.

She didn’t win a war—but she earned ground.

She took a sip of cold coffee and began typing.

For the first time, her voice wasn’t just heard—it was respected.

Ashley stared at her laptop screen, fingers hovering above the keyboard. The conversation she just had with Danielle replayed in her mind like a looping voice memo—sharp, tense, and surprisingly human.

Keep that backbone.

She didn’t expect that.

Usually, conversations with Danielle ended in vague instructions, criticism disguised as motivation, and the gnawing feeling of inadequacy. But this morning, something cracked. Danielle listened—maybe not completely, maybe not kindly—but she heard her. That alone was new.

Ashley took a deep breath and began revising the presentation. This time, she wasn’t blindly implementing every red-marked comment. She took a more strategic approach, balancing Danielle’s feedback with her own judgment and market research. She added visual charts, cleaned up inconsistencies, and aligned the messaging with the company’s branding deck.

She didn’t rush.

By 10:24 AM, the updated deck was in Danielle’s inbox with a short note:

“Attached is the revised deck with clarifications and enhancements based on our earlier conversation. Let me know if any points need further discussion. See you at 10:30.”

The clock ticked slowly toward the meeting.

At exactly 10:30, she knocked on Danielle’s office door.

“Come in,” Danielle called, eyes still on her screen.

Ashley entered, laptop in hand. This time, Danielle gestured toward the seat in front of her desk. Ashley sat.

Danielle opened the deck and scrolled. She didn’t say anything for the first five minutes, just clicked through slide after slide with her brows occasionally twitching.

Ashley waited, silent but steady.

Finally, Danielle leaned back. “This is… better. Much better.”

Ashley didn’t reply right away. She wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an opening jab.

“You’ve reorganized the timeline, I see.”

“Yes,” Ashley said. “The previous version was cluttered. I grouped tasks into weekly milestones para mas madaling sundan ng team.”

Danielle nodded, expression unreadable. “And this slide—the one with the customer persona. That wasn’t in the original.”

“I added it to support the marketing angle you mentioned. You said we needed sharper insights, so I pulled some data from the last campaign.”

Danielle closed the deck and looked at her.

“You know, I expected you to crumble.”

Ashley tilted her head slightly. “I almost did.”

Danielle let out a small, breathy laugh. Not sarcastic. Not cruel. Just… tired.

“You remind me of me, ten years ago,” she said, eyes drifting to the glass walls. “Except I never had the guts to push back.”

Ashley’s eyes softened. “You really think I pushed back?”

Danielle met her gaze. “You didn’t yell, you didn’t complain—you asserted. That’s rare.”

Silence settled between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… honest.

“Can I ask something?” Ashley said carefully.

Danielle raised a brow. “You’re on a roll. Go ahead.”

Ashley hesitated. “Why do you treat your team the way you do? Is it… intentional?”

Danielle’s jaw tensed, but she didn’t snap.

Instead, she looked away for a long beat before responding.

“Because if I don’t push people hard enough, they fall behind. And if they fall behind, the whole project suffers. Then I get blamed. There’s no room for slow learners in this place, Ashley. Especially not for women in my position.”

Ashley’s heart tugged. There it was—the weight Danielle had been carrying behind the cold facade.

“I get that,” she said softly. “But what if… there’s another way to lead without losing control?”

Danielle gave a half-smile, the kind that doesn’t reach the eyes. “Like I said, you’re braver than I was.”

She stood and walked toward the coffee maker in the corner, pouring herself a cup. After a pause, she glanced back.

“Coffee?”

Ashley blinked. “Sorry?”

“Coffee,” Danielle repeated, holding up the pot. “You look like you haven’t slept in two days.”

Ashley cracked a smile. “More like three.”

Danielle chuckled—actually chuckled—and poured a second cup. She handed it to Ashley without fanfare, and they both sat in a strange, silent truce.

For the first time, Ashley saw Danielle not just as the “terror boss,” but as a person. A woman hardened by pressure, sharpened by survival.

“You know,” Danielle said quietly, “I wasn’t trying to break you. I was testing if you could survive here.”

Ashley looked down at her cup. “And did I pass?”

Danielle nodded. “You did. Now let’s see what you’ll do with that.”

When Ashley returned to her desk, Des immediately rolled her chair closer.

“Girl. Spill. You’re still in one piece, so I assume you didn’t get eaten alive?”

Ashley laughed under her breath. “Not exactly. It was… different.”

Des narrowed her eyes. “Define ‘different.’ Like, ‘she cried and hugged you’ different? Or ‘she suddenly grew a conscience’ different?”

Ashley smiled to herself. “Neither. Just… less walls. More human.”

Des leaned back, dramatic. “Wow. Miracles do happen.”

Ashley sipped her coffee. “You know what’s even crazier?”

“What?”

“I think she respects me now.”

Des’s eyes widened. “Yung dating dragon lady?”

“Yup.”

Des smirked. “Well, look at you. Corporate tamer. Should I start calling you Ashley the Boss Whisperer?”

Ashley laughed, genuinely this time. The stress hadn’t disappeared, but something inside her shifted.

She realized that respect isn’t always handed—it’s earned in quiet moments, through courage and confrontation, one difficult conversation at a time.

And maybe—just maybe—she was learning how to own her place in the chaos.