My Rival's Ghost Designer

My Rival's Ghost Designer

The senior designer at my new firm made it her mission to undermine me.

She didn't just publicly declare that I was incompetent; she got our manager to take away the first major project I'd ever been given. My explanations went nowhere. But that evening, I stumbled upon the two of them whispering outside the office.

"Mark, just give the project to me," she was saying. "The commission's ten grand. We'll do a sixty-forty splityour sixty. I promise you, I'll deliver something way better than Sophie ever could."

My manager agreed instantly and handed the project over to her.

That same night, I got a notification from a client on Fiverr.

The usual. Got a new rush job. A thousand bucks. You in?

1

The new job was supposed to be a fresh start, but my senior colleague, Jessica, seemed determined to make it my end.

Id only been at the design firm for a week when Diane, the creative director, handed me a dream project. A major campaign for a new downtown shopping center. Land it, shed said, and a ten-thousand-dollar commission was mine. For the first time in months, I felt a spark ignite inside me. I was driven.

I was deep in the flow, sketching out a concept on my tablet, when a shadow fell over my desk. I looked up. It was Jessica.

She loomed over my shoulder, her finger jabbing toward my screen. Her tone was laced with a disgust she didnt bother to hide.

"Is this your concept?" she asked, her voice carrying across the open-plan office. "It looks like a bunch of scribbles. Who can even tell what this is?"

The low hum of keyboards and quiet chatter around us died. Everyone was listening now.

"This is for a mall promotion. We need to drive foot traffic, inspire people to spend money. Who is this mess supposed to appeal to?" She shook her head, a theatrical sigh escaping her lips. "Do you even understand the brief, Sophie?"

The friendly atmosphere of the office shattered. I could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on me, watching. My cheeks burned.

"It's just a rough draft, Jessica," I said, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be. "Its how I work out ideas. Its not meant to be a final"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped, her face hardening. "That I'm too stupid to understand your process? Ive been here two years longer than you. I've landed six-figure accounts. A rough draft isn't some secret language." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was somehow louder than a shout. "Im saying you have a problem with your design. That a project this important is out of your league."

I was stunned into silence. It was like a switch had been flipped. Just days ago, shed been the one showing me the best coffee spot, all smiles and helpful tips.

It wasnt until lunch that another designer, a woman named Maria, quietly filled me in.

"She wants your project," Maria whispered, glancing around the breakroom to make sure Jessica wasn't there.

I stared at her, a half-eaten sandwich forgotten in my hand. At my last job, we competed, sure, but it was professional. Healthy. This felt predatory.

"Jessica has a reputation," Maria continued, her eyes darting around nervously. "She's good, and she knows it. If she sees a project she wants, especially one with a big commission, she finds a way to get it." She gave me a pointed look. "That commission is pretty high, isn't it?"

It all clicked into place. The sudden chill. The public criticism.

Last week, right after Diane had assigned me the project, Jessica had cornered me by the printers. "Heard you got the mall campaign," she'd said casually. "Is there a bonus attached?"

I liked her. I was new and eager to make friends. So, I told her yes. She pressed, asking how much, her curiosity feeling less like friendly interest and more like an interrogation. I was hesitant to talk about money, but she was so persistent, so disarmingly charming, that I finally caved.

"Ten thousand," I'd admitted.

The moment the words left my mouth, her eyes had widened, just for a second, and then her smile became something fixed and glassy. After that, she was always there, hovering by my desk, offering "feedback" that felt more like picking apart my confidence thread by thread.

Id been annoyed, but I wrote it off as the price of being the new girl. I never imagined shed humiliate me in front of the entire team. This wasn't about helping me. This was about making me look incompetent.

"Shes trying to pressure you," Maria added, seeing the look on my face. "She wants you to get so stressed that you drop the project yourself."

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped me. "And the company just lets this happen? This can't be good for morale."

Maria shrugged helplessly. "She brings in a lot of money. Management looks the other way on a lot of things, as long as it's not too blatant." She then offered a piece of advice that made my stomach turn. "Honestly, if the commission isn't a life-or-death thing for you, it might be easier to just let her have it. The last designer she targeted got so torn down, he quit."

But this wasnt just any project. It was my first big break. I wasn't going to let some office bully scare me out of it.

I didnt say anything else. I just went back to my desk and worked.

That evening, I finished two solid initial concepts and sent them to the project's group chat for Mark, our department head, and Diane to review.

My phone buzzed a minute later. I expected it was Mark.

It was Jessica.

Why is she in my project's group chat? I wondered.

2

A single question mark appeared in the chat from Jessica, hanging there ominously.

It was immediately followed by a string of voice messages. I pressed play, and her sharp, cutting voice filled the quiet of my apartment.

"What is this garbage, Sophie? If this goes to the client, our firm's reputation will be toast."

"You're wasting everyone's time. If you can't deliver this on schedule, youre jeopardizing a major account. What are you going to do then?"

My blood began to boil. Mark and Diane hadnt even had a chance to respond. What gave her the right to tear into my work like this? Id tried to be respectful, but I was done being a doormat.

I typed quickly, tagging our supervisors.

@Mark @Diane Here are the initial concepts I finished today. Let me know your thoughts so I can proceed.

Then, I tagged Jessica.

@Jessica I think you might be in the wrong channel. This is my project, so I don't believe you're on the review team for it.

Her reply was instantaneous. What kind of attitude is that?

I didn't hesitate. No attitude. It just seems like you're overstepping. Do you not have enough of your own work to do?

It was a low blow, but it was true. Id never actually seen Jessica design anything. She spent most of her days walking around the office, watching what everyone else was doing.

Before the fight could escalate, Mark jumped in.

Hey now, I'm the one who added Jessica to the channel.

She's been with us for years, she's practically our signature designer. I wanted her to lend her expertise.

Jessica immediately pounced. See? I try to be helpful and I get accused of having too much time on my hands. Unbelievable.

I felt a surge of frustration. This wasn't "helpful." It was a targeted attack, and Mark was enabling her. Arguing further would only make me look difficult, especially since he was clearly on her side.

So, I ignored her completely.

@Mark Are the designs okay? If so, Ill continue with this direction.

A moment later, he sent a link to a portfolio collection. It was followed by a voice note.

"Take a look through these, Sophie. These are some of our biggest hits from the past few years, all designed by Jessica. Study them. Try to stick to this style."

I knew Jessica was the office star, but I'd never actually seen her portfolio. A flicker of curiosity pushed past my anger. I clicked the link.

My breath caught in my throat. I blinked, rubbing my eyes as if they were deceiving me.

How could this be?

I scrolled through the polished, professional designs. A corporate logo here, a web layout there. Then I saw it. The most recent entry. I zoomed in, my heart pounding against my ribs.

This wasn't just familiar.

This was the exact design Id sold on Fiverr last month for a hundred bucks.


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