Chapter 7: Deny Her
1218 Words
Chapter 7: Deny Her
Valery was still asleep when my phone started losing its mind.
Buzz, Buzz.Buzz,buzz,buzz.
Calder was in the hall fighting with Miranda. Real Miranda. Not fake fiancee Miranda. Lawyer Miranda. Pissed off Miranda.
I pulled my phone out.
Thirty seven missed calls. What the hell.
Two from my team lead at Thorne. One from a New York Post number. A bunch I did not know.
Then Jen from accounting.
Jen, girl are u ok
Jen, turn on CNBC rn
Jen, SLOANE
Bad. Thats bad.
I opened Twitter. Stupid. I know. I did it anyway.
ThorneScandal, Number three trending in New York. 0612 AM.
The video. God, The video.
Grainy security cam. No sound. Didnt need sound. Me in his chair. Him behind me. Hand over mine. Then the contract. Then his hands on my hips. My blazer on the floor.
Someone cut it together all nice. Like a trailer. Like a damn movie.
Post headline under it: Billionaire Calder Thorne, 34, caught coercing female employee into s****l contract to cover $43 million fraud.
Coercing.
I almost laughed right there in the hospital. Coercing. Right. I was the one with the forged check, remember?
Calder walked back in. Face blank. That CEO mask. Click. Back on.
You saw, he said.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm famous. Cool."
"PR is drafting a statement. Legal is pulling the video. Miranda is suing everyone."
"Good."
He hesitated. Just a second. Half a second. I almost missed it.
"Board meeting at seven," he said. "Stay here. With Valery. Do not answer your phone. Do not talk to press. Do not come to the office."
Ok. Fine. I nodded. "Ok."
He looked… relieved? Yeah. Relieved. Like that was easy.
"Good. I'll handle it."
He leaned down, kissed my forehead. Quick. Weird. Nothing like the kiss in the waiting room. That kiss was fire. This was… goodbye?
"I'll call after," he said.
Then he left.
Valery woke up at 0743. Groggy. Alive. God, alive. She squeezed my hand and asked for ice chips and told me I looked like trash.
I laughed. Cried. Both. Fed her ice chips one by one with a little plastic spoon.
0801. Phone buzzes again. Jen.
Jen: TURN ON CNBC NOW NOW NOW
Waiting room TV. Volume low.
Calder. Podium. Thorne Holdings logo big behind him. Blue suit, red tie, perfect hair. Like he slept eight hours in a five star hotel. Not like he spent all night in a hospital watching my sister almost die.
Reporters yelling.
"Mr Thorne! Is the video real?"
"Did you coerce that employee?"
"Will you step down?"
He holds up one hand. Room shuts up. Just like that. He does that to rooms, I swear.
"Brief statement," he says, calm as ice. "No questions."
Looks straight in the camera.
"The video online is out of context. Heavily edited. Miss Vance is a valued employee at Thorne Holdings. I have never engaged in any inappropriate relationship with any employee. Any suggestion otherwise is false and defamatory."
Then some reporter yells, "So you deny a s****l relationship with Sloane Vance?"
Calder does not even blink.
"I categorically deny any personal relationship with Miss Vance. She is an employee. Nothing more."
Nothing more.
Nothing. More.
It hit me right in the ribs. Like someone punched me. Hard.
He kept talking. Stock prices. Shareholder confidence. Board unity. Blah blah blah.
I stopped listening.
Phone rings. Unknown. I answer cause I'm stupid.
"Miss Vance? New York Post. Comment on CEO Calder Thorne denying—"
I hung up. Blocked it. My hands are shaking again. God I hate when my hands shake.
Valery is watching me from the bed. Awake. Clear.
"He just threw you under the bus on live TV," she says. Quiet.
"He's protecting the company," I say fast. Too fast. "Stock was down eighteen percent. If he admits it they fire him today. SEC. Prison. For me too. It's smart. It's… it's smart."
"Sloane."
"It's fine."
"Sloane, look at me."
I look. Valery. Bald head wrapped in gauze. IV bruises up both arms. Skinny as hell. And she's looking at me like I'm the one dying.
"He just told the whole world you're nothing to him," she says. "After you sold your soul to save me. After he kissed you like you were air. He just said you're nothing."
"He had to."
"Is that what you are? Business?"
I couldnt answer. If I opened my mouth I was gonna scream or cry or both, and Valery just had brain surgery, she does not need that from me.
Phone buzzes. Calder.
Calder: Turn off the TV. It was necessary. Trust me.
I stared at that text a long time.
Then I typed back.
Me: Rule Four. No feelings. Remember?
Three dots. Gone. Three dots again.
Calder: Sloane—
I blocked him.
Blocked Miranda. Blocked Thorne Holdings main line. Turned my phone off completely. Dropped it in my bag like it burned.
Valery watched me do all of it.
What are you doing? she says.
Leaving.
What? No. You cant. The surgery—"
"You're alive," I said. "Patel says full recovery. Six weeks then home. You'll be fine without me hovering every second."
Sloane, where will you go?
Forty three dollars in my checking account. No apartment. No job by lunch probably. My name trending next to s*x-for-money fraud on Twitter.
I smiled at my sister. Felt like glass cracking in my face.
Chicago, I said. Jen's cousin runs a cybersecurity startup. Offered me a job last year. Remote first then relocate. I said no cause of you. I'm calling her back. Saying yes.
"Sloane—"
I love you, I said, kissing her forehead. "Be good. Take your meds. Dont terrorize the nurses. I'll call when I'm settled.
You're running.
I'm surviving, I said. That's what Vance girls do.
I packed my bag. One change of clothes from my overnight duffel. Phone charger. Valery's hospital bracelet I had been holding since last night, I slipped it into my pocket.
The nurse at the desk stopped me on the way out.
Miss Vance? Mr Thorne left instructions. Your sister's full treatment is paid through discharge. Private room, private nurse, everything. He also left this.
An envelope. Thick paper. My name in that heavy looped T.
Inside: a check. Not forty three million this time. Two million. Memo line blank. And a note, handwritten, fast like he wrote it in the car.
For Chicago. Start your firm. – C
I stared at that check a long time in that ugly hospital hallway.
Then I tore it in half. Then in quarters. Dropped the pieces in the trash by the nurses station.
I walked out of Mercy Ridge at 0947 AM with forty three dollars, a dead phone, and a broken contract in my bag.
Behind me my sister was alive. That was the only thing that mattered.
In front of me was a bus station, a one way ticket, and a city where nobody knew my name.
My phone stayed off. I did not look back.
Somewhere across town Calder Thorne was probably watching his stock price climb back up now that he denied me on live TV.
Good for him.
Rule Four. No feelings.
I was going to be real good at Rule Four now.
- Writer
