Gerald laughed. “Calling your husband? Cute. He can’t save you from this either.”
“I’m not calling anyone,” I said. “I’m ending a recording.”
The smirk twitched. Just a flicker.
The double doors opened behind him. In walked Marisa Kohl, the firm’s general counsel, followed by two partners and a man in a charcoal suit I’d only ever seen on the cover of Architectural Digest — Daniel Halberd himself, our forty-million-dollar client.
Gerald stood up so fast his chair rolled into the window. “Daniel. This is — this is an internal matter — “
“It became my matter,” Daniel said quietly, “when I received an email this morning from the actual designer of my tower. With the original CAD files. Dated eleven months before your name appeared on anything.”
I slid a folder across the table. Mirror image of the one Gerald had pushed at me. Inside: timestamped drafts, internal Slack messages where he’d ordered junior staff to scrub my name from the renderings, and the HR complaint I’d filed in writing six weeks earlier — the one Gerald had “lost.”
Marisa didn’t sit. “Gerald, your access badge is deactivated as of two minutes ago. Security is in the lobby. The board has accepted your resignation, effective immediately. Without severance. Without the non-compete protection. Without the bonus.”
He turned to me, his face the color of old paper. “You planned this. You’re eight months pregnant — “
“I’m eight months pregnant,” I said, standing slowly, one hand on my back. “Which means I had nothing but time to be patient. I documented every meeting. Every email. Every time you called me ‘sweetheart’ instead of by my title.”
Daniel extended his hand to me. “Ms. Reyes. The Halberd Tower belongs to its architect. I’d like to renegotiate — directly with you. Or with whichever firm you start next month.”
I shook his hand over the curve of my son.
Gerald was still standing there, holding his own resignation letter, when I walked past him to the elevator. I didn’t look back. The pen, I noticed, was very nice. I left it for him.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, slow and deliberate, while Brielle’s friends filmed. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said, ‘before you redecorate, you should meet someone.’ The […]
I poured myself a cup of coffee, slow and deliberate, while Brielle’s friends filmed. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said, ‘before you redecorate, you should meet someone.’ The […]
I poured myself a cup of coffee, slow and deliberate, while Brielle’s friends filmed. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said, ‘before you redecorate, you should meet someone.’ The […]
