“Do you dislike her?”
“Currently?”
Raymond smiled.
“Yes.”
“Very much.”
He laughed.
Then became serious.
“Disliking someone doesn’t mean they get to make work miserable.”
Alyssa knew that.
She still wanted proof.
The next incident provided some.
A regular customer named Mr. Wallace complained that someone had changed the seat position in his truck dramatically during an interior detail. The issue itself was minor, but dashcam footage showed Madison sitting inside after the cleaning was finished and mocking a photograph taped to the customer’s dashboard.
Alyssa confronted her privately.
“Why were you sitting in Wallace’s truck?”
Madison smiled.
“I cleaned it.”
“For six minutes after the job was done?”
“You timing me?”
“He has a dashcam.”
The smile disappeared.
Alyssa continued.
“You were making fun of his daughter’s picture.”
“So?”
“So don’t.”
Madison laughed.
“Is there anything I’m allowed to do?”
“Work.”
“Funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Madison stepped closer.
“You’ve turned this place into some corporate prison.”
Alyssa looked around at the open concrete bay.
“Madison, we wash cars.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
That became another grievance.
In February, Raymond finally issued Madison a formal conduct warning after three employees separately reported that she had been undermining Alyssa’s instructions.
Lauren received a verbal warning.
Alyssa requested one thing afterward.
“Can you move one of them off my Saturday crew?”
Raymond hesitated.
“Which one?”
“Either.”
“We’re short staffed.”
“I know.”
“Give me two weeks.”
Alyssa agreed.
Those two weeks became six.
Nothing major happened.
Small things continued.
Madison’s comments.
Lauren’s nervous laughter.
A hose left twisted at Alyssa’s station.
A spray bottle intentionally mislabeled.
Nothing serious enough to create an explosion.
Just enough to make every shift feel heavier.
Alyssa’s younger sister, Keisha, noticed the change.
“You hate your job now.”
They were sitting at a Mexican restaurant after work.
“I don’t hate it.”
“You just spent ten minutes complaining about hose storage.”
“That matters.”
“Nobody who likes their job talks passionately about hoses.”
Alyssa laughed.
Then became quiet.
“I’m tired.”
“Quit.”
“I’ve got health insurance.”
“Okay, don’t quit.”
“Excellent career counseling.”
Keisha ate a chip.
“You still want your detailing business?”
Alyssa looked at her.
That dream had existed before Ridgeway.
A small mobile operation.
Two vans.
Residential appointments.