Chapter 3
904 Words
The next morning, I went into the office as usual.
Not to hand anything over. I was there to take back what was mine.
I powered up my computer, deleted every personal file, and uploaded the company documents through the proper channels.
Then I went through the original proposal Sophie had used in the competition and pulled screenshots of the creation timestamps, revision history, and client correspondence, everything that proved the work was mine, and emailed the whole package to myself.
I had no intention of making a scene. But I wasn't stupid enough to hand anyone a loaded weapon either.
At ten that morning, the department group chat pinged:
Tonight at 7. Celebrating Sophie's promotion to Project Manager. Venue: Cloud Nine.
Congratulations flooded the thread. Sophie posted a blushing emoji and replied.
Sophie: Thank you, everyone. And thank you, Mr. Grant, for the opportunity.
Then she messaged me privately.
Sophie: Serena, come tonight.
Sophie: I know you're hurting, but I really want to buy you a drink in person.
I didn't reply.
A few minutes later, a message from Jason came through.
Jason: Come.
Jason: Don't give everyone something to gossip about.
I stared at those words and felt something turn sour in my chest.
So my feelings could be squeezed into whatever shape suited him, as long as it kept people from talking.
That evening, I went to Cloud Nine.
I took the elevator to the top floor, where the headhunter's company had its offices. After the meeting, I came back down and walked straight into the rest of my former team filing into a private dining room.
Sophie was in a white dress, barely any makeup on. She looked fragile and harmless. When she spotted me, her face lit up. "Serena! I didn't think you'd actually show up."
Jason stood just behind her. "Since you're here, come in."
I almost turned and left.
Sophie reached out and grabbed my arm. "If you don't come in, everyone's going to think I did something to you."
I pulled away quickly, stepping out of her reach. She stiffened, and her eyes went red almost immediately. The colleagues nearby exchanged uneasy glances.
Jason dropped his voice. "Serena, don't start something out here."
I went inside. The room had been decorated for the occasion, warm and festive.
Sophie was seated next to the host's chair. Jason had settled in naturally at her side.
"Mr. Grant and Sophie sitting together like that," someone joked, "you'd almost think this was an engagement dinner."
The teasing cascaded around the table. Sophie's ears went pink and she kept her eyes down.
Jason didn't deny it. He smiled and picked up his cup. "Don't be ridiculous."
His tone was perfectly even. Not a trace of annoyance.
The food came quickly. Someone had ordered spicy dishes.
"Everyone has to try the spicy chicken here, it's incredible."
Sophie reached for some, and Jason stopped her. "No. Your gastritis just cleared up."
He slid the cold beer away from her and replaced it with a small bowl of warm soup.
Sophie complained under her breath, voice soft and coy. "Just a little."
"No."
He said it firmly. But the look in his eyes was pure indulgence.
More teasing broke out across the table, the energy climbing higher.
Their laughter landed on my face like slaps.
Last winter, when I'd been hospitalized with a stomach bleed, Jason was away in another city for work. At the moment I needed someone the most, he'd said, "Something came up at the company. Get yourself checked in, I'll come when I can."
I found out later what had really happened that day. Sophie had posted on i********::
My first birthday after the divorce. Lonely? Maybe.
Jason saw it and drove back overnight. He sat with her through cake and candles.
My stomach could wait. Her loneliness could not.
Sophie's voice broke through my thoughts. She lifted her glass. "This one's for you, Serena. If you hadn't built such a solid foundation, I never would have taken it over this fast."
It sounded like gratitude. But she'd bitten down on the words "taken it over" just a little too deliberately.
I didn't move. "I don't drink."
Sophie's hand hovered in the air. A few seconds passed, and then she smiled. "Of course, no pressure." She drank it herself.
She'd barely sat back down before she pressed a hand to her stomach and frowned.
Jason was at her side immediately. "What's wrong?"
"I think I drank too fast," she said quietly. "It hurts a little."
Jason grabbed his jacket. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
He was already at the door before he seemed to remember I existed. He turned back.
"Serena, stay and settle the bill for me."
A hush fell over the room.
Every team dinner we'd ever had, I was the one who handled everything afterward. Receipts, arranging rides home, making sure everyone got back safely. Jason had grown used to it. So had everyone else.
I stood up, bag over my shoulder.
"Mr. Grant. I don't work here anymore."
His expression darkened. I didn't say another word. I turned and walked out.
Outside, the night air hit me, cool and clear.
My phone rang. It was the headhunter.
"Great talking with you today, Ms. Shaw. But our boss wants to meet you in person. Could you come back tomorrow morning? He's Mr. Lane—Lucas Lane."
- Writer
