Chapter 3

Avery's POV

"Steve, you can say whatever you want, but get your facts straight." I let out a short laugh. "Everything was handed off through standard process. If she can't read a file or bombs a presentation, that's on her, not me."

"Don't give me that. Mr. Brandt's furious and asking for you by name. You've got half an hour to get back here, or you can kiss this month's paycheck goodbye."

Steve hangs up before I can respond.

I stare at the dark screen, a smirk pulling at my mouth.

Can't handle it already? This is just the opening act.

I change into something clean and sharp and take a cab to the office.

The second I walk through the door, something feels off. The floor's usually loud, but right now nobody's making a sound.

I head straight for the conference room and push the door open.

Kayla's garish slide deck is still up on the projector. She's crying in the corner, mascara running. Dennis and Steve are standing in front of a middle-aged man, sweating through their apologies.

The man is Samuel Brandt.

"Mr. Brandt, we hear you, and I promise this was just a hiccup in the handoff process." Sweat beads on Dennis's forehead.

"A hiccup? You call this a hiccup?" Samuel's face is dark. "I run a multi-billion-dollar operation and you hand me garbage that doesn't even have proper market research behind it. If it weren't for Avery, I wouldn't have walked through your door today."

He spots me and his expression eases a little. "Avery, finally. Explain this to me. This isn't the plan you showed me before."

Before I can say anything, Steve grabs my arm like I'm a life raft, leaning in close, teeth clenched. "Apologize to him. Take the blame, tell him you were sick and the files got messed up, and pull out the real proposal. Now."

I look at his twisted face, then at Kayla still playing the victim in the corner, then at Dennis giving me that look that says think about the bigger picture.

They're still expecting me to clean up their mess.

I pull my arm out of Steve's grip.

"Mr. Brandt, I'm sorry about this." I give him a small nod. "But I didn't put this proposal together. Three days ago, Dennis and Steve handed the Brandt account over to Kayla. I'm not on this project anymore."

Dennis goes white. "Avery!"

Samuel freezes, then his face turns to stone. "Dennis, are you kidding me? You swap out your lead the week before close and hand me some kid who can't even string a sentence together?"

"That's not, Mr. Brandt, if you'd just let me explain."

"I don't need an explanation." Samuel stands up. "We're done here. Legal will have the termination letter to you tomorrow. Start getting your checkbook ready for the breach clause."

He walks out without looking back.

Dennis and Steve chase after him and catch nothing but exhaust fumes. They storm back in, and Dennis jabs a finger at me, hand shaking. "Avery! Are you doing this on purpose? You want to watch this whole company go under?"

"Me, sink the company?" I shrug. "Steve's the one who called me a waste of resources. You're the one who pulled me off the account. Kayla's the one who couldn't deliver. I just said what happened. How does that make it my fault?"

"If you'd actually helped her, showed her how to handle him, none of this would've happened." Steve's shouting now. "Write up an apology and go kneel outside Brandt Development until he forgives you. Or I'll fire you and make sure nobody in this industry touches you again."

"Fire me?"

I laugh, pull the badge off my neck, and drop it on the table.

"Save yourself the trouble. I quit. You two can run this place yourselves from here on out. Whatever loyalty I had left, consider it gone. Good luck going bankrupt."

"Avery!" Dennis is losing it. "You walk out that door today, you can beg all you want, you're never coming back."

I don't bother answering. I walk out.

Outside, I take a breath of fresh air. Without that suffocating weight on my chest, even the sunlight feels sharper.

My phone buzzes. It's Samuel.

"Samuel, sorry you had to see that today." I pick up.

The anger from the conference room is gone from his voice, replaced by something closer to amusement. "Please. I can't stand companies that run like a circus."

"Thanks for understanding."

"Don't thank me, I'm just looking out for myself here. But Avery, after how they treated you, are you really staying? If they keep sending that intern to babysit my account, I'm pulling out."

"You don't have to worry about that. I already quit."

"Good to hear. So what's next for you? I still want you running Brandt."

"Give me three days. I'll have an answer for you."

I hang up and take a cab to a bar.

I push open the door to the private room. A man in a sharp suit sits inside, mixing a drink at an unhurried pace, every movement easy and controlled.

Weston Blackwell. CEO of Meridian Group.

He looks up. "Avery. Made your decision yet?"

I walk over and sit down, no small talk. "Mr. Blackwell. That offer you made me. Does it still stand?"