The long game
898 Words
Sarah
My first day at Bennett & Associates was hard.
I walked into the office as Emma Hayes, design consultant, and I saw my life through the lens of a stranger. The logo that I'd designed was still on the walls. The color palette that I'd chosen. The furniture I'd sourced was still being used by everyone.
But my name was gone. Instead, there was Marcus's and Victoria's names.
My best friend had worked her way into the hierarchy of my own company.
“Emma Hayes,” I announced to the receptionist, a young man I didn’t recognize. “Design consultant for the Napa Valley project. Marcus Richardson is expecting me.”
“Of course, Ms. Hayes. He’s in a meeting, but Victoria can show you around.” He gestured toward the open-plan office.
I found her at her desk—my old desk, I realized with a shock reviewing designs. She looked exactly like she had at the funeral.
She was wearing a ring on her left ring finger. A ring that looked suspiciously like the engagement ring Marcus had given me before I "died."
"Victoria Hartwell?" I said, extending my hand with a smile.
She looked up, confusion flashing across her face. "Do I know you?"
"Emma Hayes. I'm the new design consultant Marcus hired for the Napa project."
Her entire body stiffened. She didn't take my hand.
"Oh," she said flatly. "Marcus didn't mention that he was bringing in someone new. We usually handle everything in-house.”
"Marcus hired me yesterday." I said brightly. "I'm looking forward to working with you. I've heard so much about the amazing work you've been doing here."
It was the perfect lie. Victoria's face flushed with pleasure at the compliment, and I felt sick.
"Thank you," she said, finally shaking my hand. "I've been working really hard to elevate the firm's profile since... well, since Sarah's death."
The way she said my name. With this practiced sadness that was f*****g convincing.
"Must have been a difficult time," I said carefully.
"It was," Victoria said. "Sarah was my best friend. We did everything together. Started this business together, actually. She was so talented, but she was also kind of naive about business. Marcus really transformed the company once he took over."
The lie was so casual, so easy. I stood there listening to her rewrite history, listening to her take credit for my work, and I had to physically restrain myself from reaching across the desk and strangling her.
Over the next three weeks, I started mapping the office.
I learned where the financial records were kept. I discovered the password to the main server it was "Victoria2024," which told me everything I needed to know about Marcus's security. I found the files where they kept stolen client money, offshore account. They were so f*****g confident. They didn't even hide it good.
They were so confident nobody would find it.
But I didn't make any move yet. Revenge was a dish best served cold. And I could wait.
On Friday, I had lunch with Victoria.
"I'd love to pick your brain about the design here," I said. "You obviously have an incredible eye."
She f*****g glowed at the compliment.
We went to a wine bar near the office, and I watched her drink three glasses of wine, the alcohol loosening her tongue while talking about her engagement to Marcus, her vision for the company, her plans to expand Bennett & Associates into a luxury brand.
We’re rebranding soon, you know. ‘Hartwell & Richardson.’ It has a better ring to it, don’t you think?”
“It sounds… established,” I said, smiling.
"I used to work with Sarah," I said carefully. "Before she passed. She was doing amazing work."
Victoria's jaw tightened. "Sarah was talented," she said. "But she was also... limited. She wasn't smart about business, she didn't have the knowledge to really scale a company. That's what Marcus brought to the table."
"And what did you bring?" I asked.
"Vision," Victoria said immediately. "I understand what luxury clients actually want. Sarah was always worried about being authentic. That doesn't make money, you know?"
I sipped my wine and listened to my best friend explain how she'd surpassed me. How my death had actually been a gift to her career. How grateful she was that I was no longer competing with her for spotlight
"Do you ever think about her?" I asked.
"No," Victoria said. And she smiled like it was funny. "Why would I? She's dead."
That night, I went home to my son.
Alexander was sleeping in his crib, his tiny fist curled around his blanket. I looked at this perfect human who had been created in a marriage built on lies and cheating.
I wasn't just getting revenge for myself.
I was making sure that my son would never have to deal with a man like Marcus Richardson. I was going to ensure that the next generation understood what betrayal looked like, so they could never be blindsided by it.
I was going to burn it all down.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD