The window lowered a few inches. Rain blew into the car and spotted the leather door panel as Julian pressed close enough for me to smell wet wool and pavement.
“Chloe.” His voice scraped on my name. He reached into his ruined jacket and pulled out a dirty piece of metal. It was the plaque I had thrown away, still blank beneath the grime. His hand shook as he held it toward the narrow opening. “I found it. I kept it. It’s ours.”
“Please come back. Withdraw the lawsuit. I’ll give you the company, the CEO title, the lead architect credit. It’s all yours. It was supposed to be yours from the beginning.” He pushed the plaque closer. “I was wrong. I can’t do this without you. I need you.”
I waited for him to say something about the three years he had taken, the public lie, or the name he had
