Chapter 4
1690 Words
“I’m Liam Westbrook. Founder and CEO of Crown Tech. Yes, that Crown Tech,” he said, like he was reciting the opening line of a TED Talk. “You’re here because someone thinks you have potential. Or maybe you just got lucky. Either way, welcome to our innovation incubator.”
Faye felt the blood drain from her face. This was Liam Westbrook?
The Liam Westbrook? Billionaire tech genius. Poster boy for Forbes. Also, apparently, public menace.
“And today,” he continued, “you lucky few get to be part of our innovation incubator program. You’ll learn, work and maybe even impress me.”
I almost laughed. I almost cried.
He kept talking, something about innovation and expectations and how lucky we were, but I wasn’t listening. I was trying not to explode.
“And now,” he said, “you can all check your emails for your orientation schedules. Don’t be late. I hate tardiness almost as much as I hate mediocrity.”
I waited until the room started clearing before getting up. Then I marched right up to him.
“You’re the reason I got fired.”
He looked at me like I’d grown two extra heads. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve been the reason a lot of people got fired.”
My jaw clenched. “I worked at Roasted 'n Sweet Cafe on 5th. You bumped into me, I apologized and you still acted like an asshole.”
He looked confused for half a second, then gave a dismissive shrug.
I narrowed my eyes. “You were the guy who bumped into me, then threw a fit. I called you a trust fund baby who lives off daddy’s money. Ring any bells?”
That did it.
His face shifted just a little and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Right. The server with the mouth. You flipped me off on your way out.”
My stomach twisted, “So you do remember.”
“I remember the attitude,” he said smoothly. “Didn’t expect to ever see you again, though. Life’s full of surprises.”
“You think this is funny?” I snapped.
“I think it’s efficient. You hated that job.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do now.”
I took a step closer. “That job paid my rent. My bills. But sure, glad I could entertain the tech bro with a God complex.”
His smile dropped just a little. “You think this is about me flexing power?”
“Oh, I know it is,” I hissed. “You walked in like you owned the place, and decided my entire future because I didn’t kiss your overpriced shoes.”
His jaw tightened. “I didn’t get you fired.”
“You didn’t have to” I shot back. “You just had to look annoyed and let the universe do the rest.”
He laughed once…short and humorless. “You seriously think I have time to plot revenge over spilled coffee?”
“You don’t have to. You probably breathe and people scramble.”
A beat passed between us, sharp and charged.
“You’ve clearly made up your mind about me,” he said, voice cool again. “So here’s a wild thought…walk away. No one’s forcing you to stay.”
My fists clenched. “I would rather clean public toilets with a toothbrush than work for you.”
“I was trying to fix my life,” I muttered. “And then you walked in.”
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping low. “Then fix it. But don’t blame me because your world was already cracked.”
That stung. More than I wanted to admit.
My throat tightened. “Go to hell.”
He stared at me, all ice now. “Noted. You can show yourself out.”
I stared at him, stunned. Then without another word, I turned and walked out before I said something I’d really regret or before I could start crying or screaming, either of which felt equally possible.
I walked out of the building. Out of the internship. And possibly, out of my entire damn mind.
I stopped on the sidewalk, pulled out my phone, and hit Leah’s contact.
Leah picked up on the second ring. “Faye?”
I didn’t even say hello. “Liam Westbrook is the coffee guy.”
Silence.
“And I just quit the internship your dad got me.”
More silence.
“I threatened to quit,” I added, pacing the sidewalk like a woman on trial. “And then I actually did.”
There was a long pause on the line. “...Okay,” Leah said. “Start from the top.
So I did.
The shock of seeing him again. His smug, punchable face. And then quitting loudly and dramatically.
A pause.
Then Leah said, “Okay, wow. That’s...that’s a full buffet of chaos.”
“I think I blacked out mid-scene,” I groaned. “Like some demon took over my body and made me verbally slap a billionaire.”
“Please tell me someone recorded it.”
“Leah!”
“What? I need content! This sounds like the kind of meltdown that deserves dramatic music and slow-mo edits.”
I buried my face in my hands. “I told him I’d rather clean toilets with a toothbrush than work for him.”
“God. That’s poetry.”
“I told him he ruined my life.”
“Which, to be fair, he kinda did.”
“I told him to go to hell.”
Leah gasped. “FAYE!”
“I panicked!”
“No, you thrived. You went full gladiator mode.”
“I walked out of the building. Like, fully walked out. No job. No plan. Just rage and bad choices.”
Leah was silent for a second. Then, “Babe...I love you, but you have the emotional control of a toddler on a sugar rush.”
I let out a miserable laugh.
“You’re supposed to say something comforting,” I said.
“Oh, I’m getting there. Just had to admire the destruction first.” She cleared her throat dramatically. “Okay. Here’s the comforting part, you’re not dead. You’re not arrested. And I’m pretty sure you’re still cute. So worst case? You just had a minor professional explosion in front of a tech god with anger issues.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“Alright, fine.” Her voice softened. “Faye, listen to me. You didn’t just stand up for yourself. You took a man with unlimited power and told him he wasn’t God. That takes guts.”
“And stupidity.”
“Well, yeah. But mostly guts.”
I stared at the ground. “What if he blocks me from every job in the city?”
“He won’t.”
“He could.”
“He won’t,” she said firmly. “You bruised his ego, not his empire. He’ll survive and will you.”
I groaned.
I sighed. “I can’t believe I quit. I didn’t even think it through. It just happened. I’m doomed.”
“No, you’re dramatic. Which I love. But doomed? Nah.”
“I walked out of an opportunity people would kill for.”
“And you also walked into it by accident, so I feel like the universe owes you one.”
“I’m going to cry.”
“Don’t. You already wasted enough energy on that man’s suit.”
I cracked a laugh. Just barely.
Leah’s tone softened. “Look, I get it. You were pissed, blindsided, humiliated. And yes, you might’ve just told off a man who could literally buy the moon. But you’re also one of the smartest, most stubborn people I know. If anyone can unfire themselves, it’s you.”
“Unfire?”
“Yeah. You didn’t get fired this time, babe. You self-destructed. Which means you can also...what’s the opposite of self-destruct?”
“Self-revive?”
“Exactly! Go back tomorrow. Pretend you never left. Gaslight them. Be delusional.”
I snorted. “That’s your advice? Just gaslight my way back into the program?”
“Absolutely. Walk in like you’re meant to be there and dare anyone to say otherwise.”
“I don’t think I can face him again.”
“You can. You just have to think of him as a test. Like a really annoying final exam with great hair.”
There was a beat of silence between us.
Then Leah added, “Also, if you don’t go back, my dad is going to kill you. And then kill me for recommending you. And then kill you again just to be sure.”
“Not helping.”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said. “You go home. You shower. You cry into a snack. And tomorrow, you go back there like nothing happened. No apologies. No explanations. Just vibes.”
“What if he says something?”
“You say you had a migraine.”
“That’s your plan?” I blinked. “A migraine? That’s insane.”
“That’s confidence. Delusion and confidence look the same until one of them gets hired.”
I sighed. “I hate how much sense that makes.”
She grinned. I could hear it. “That’s why I’m your best friend. Now go home, rage-eat something chocolaty and remember, the next time you see him, hold eye contact like you know his worst secret.”
I laughed again, weaker this time. But it was real. I took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. "Alright. Chocolate it is."
Leah chuckled. "You know where to find me when you're ready to plot the downfall of a tech billionaire."
I smiled, shaking my head. "Thanks, Leah. I’ll be okay."
"Of course you will," she said confidently. "You got this."
I ended the call, feeling a little lighter.
Maybe she was right.
Sleep on it. Regroup.
Maybe I could survive this. Probably even laugh at it someday.
Maybe I hadn’t ruined everything…yet.
- Writer
