Chapter 29 #2
They finish summarizing and have moved onto saying something about a settlement offer and sliding a folder across the table. Eleanore peeks at its contents, probably to determine if it’s a legit or insulting offer, before showing it to me.
I look at the page and back up at Eleanore, who after our first meeting had warned me not to react to anything—evidence, absurd accusations, even settlement offers—as it could give BrandMe lawyers the upper hand.
She gives me a slight nod of affirmation to let me know she thinks it’s a good deal.
This agreement, which would include a check with so many more zeros than I could have ever imagined, is too good to be true.
Somehow it’s still not as good as hearing Brody stood up for me after all we’d been through.
“My client and I will review the offer and get back to you,” Eleanore says, signaling for the BrandMe team to pack up and go.
“This is great news, Abigail,” Eleanore says to me once the opposing legal team has left. “Why don’t you look happier?”
“I am happy. Just processing.” Partially true because there’s a lot to process. It’s also a lie because I’m not happy. Not entirely. I have this fantastic, life-changing news, and the first person I wanted to call is Nate—the exact person I can’t reach out to.
He’s the one who convinced me to go down this road to begin with, helping me find a damn good lawyer. And Brody had been the one to reassure me of the undeniable value I brought as a brand manager, even if I couldn’t be his anymore.
I hadn’t heard from either brother since Fiji, and it’s hard to imagine a path back to each other after how we left things. But a generous settlement with BrandMe is a path forward, even if it’s not the path I imagined I’d be on.
“How about you think it over and get back to me with what you want to do next?” Eleanore says when I don’t respond. “We don’t want to keep them waiting too long, but we can afford to make them sweat a little.”
With a wink and a pat on the arm, she leaves. I’m not far behind her, nearly at the office exit and mid-text to Corina asking her to meet at our favorite lunch spot, when a woman calls out my name.
I spot Wren, a senior account manager who’s as known for being awesome at her job as she is for microwaving fish leftovers at lunch.
“Abigail, can we have a quick word?”
It’s impossible to imagine what Wren could want to talk to me about.
We aren’t exactly friends. I had supported some of her accounts, but that feels like a lifetime ago.
Surely, she’s sorted out any questions. Maybe she wants to talk about the case?
Encourage me to take the settlement so I won’t drag the company’s name through the mud when so many of my former coworkers are still here?
I’m determined to nip that conversation in the bud. “You know I can’t talk about the case, right? It’s not yet resolved.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, I know. Come, this will only take a minute. We can talk in my office.”
Since when does Wren have an office? Corina had mentioned stirrings of change at BrandMe but didn’t know or couldn’t say anything specific. Was this one of them?
I follow Wren past large windows and down the hall all the way to Carl’s office door, which now has her nameplate tacked on the outside along with CEO.
“Carl’s out?”
Wren nods, gesturing for me to enter her very pink office.
A pink office chair sits on one side of a paler desk facing two vibrant sofa chairs.
Matching bold shelves encase the opposite wall, packed with books, a technology charging station, and a series of textured picture frames.
The room’s large window is offset by sheer light pink curtains.
“Wow,” I say, not sure if I’m reacting to Carl’s absence or all the pink touches in Wren’s office. The color had been all over her prior cubicle space, but this is another level. “You’re the new CEO? Congrats, Wren.”
“Thank you, though I was just the next in line.”
I shake my head because I know better, even having been gone for a while. BrandMe’s culture had a way of making women small, and I’m finally in a place where I can see that. “You earned this, Wren. Don’t let anyone else convince you otherwise.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Abigail.” Wren’s hand flies to her heart. “And after everything the company has put you through.”
“Yes, well. You weren’t part of it, so you don’t deserve the punishment.”
“It tore me up to hear about it all the same.”
I clear my throat. “You wanted to speak with me about something?”
“Yes!” She motions for me to sit in one of the sofa chairs as she closes the door.
“Listen, I know BrandMe hasn’t always been the best to you.
You, like many women here, myself included, haven’t always been afforded the same opportunities and have been…
well, held to a different set of standards than male employees. I’m putting an end to that.”
“Great, I’m not sure what that has to do with me, though.”
“It has everything to do with you! Look, I know we can’t talk about the case—and we won’t—but without it, BrandMe could have kept turning a blind eye to the office goings-on, and the unfair treatment may have never been properly surfaced, let alone dealt with.
I hope you find the settlement offer fair.
Just as importantly, I hope you’ll consider coming back to work for us when this is through. ”
I’m following her until the last part. “I’m sorry, what?”
Wren clears her throat. “We’d love to have you back, Abigail.
With your promotion, of course. You more than earned it during your time here.
You could lead more accounts, make more money, help us ensure all our HR policies regarding fraternization are fair and not unnecessarily heavy-handed. What do you say?”
“I say…can I think about it?” Eleanore had suggested the possibility BrandMe was cleaning house and looking to bring me back in as part of the company’s culture change, but I never believed it. After everything, it seemed impossible.
“Take all the time you need. Just let me know by Monday what you decide.”
I nearly laugh because giving me a deadline is the opposite of taking all the time I need, but I promise to let her know.
As I stand to leave, Wren stops me again.
“And Abigail? Please don’t discuss this or the settlement with anyone else associated with BrandMe. At least until you decide.”
A stifling heat greets me outside of BrandMe, along with clear blue skies and sunshine.
I pause on the sidewalk, smoothing wrinkles out of my linen dress, trying to figure out what to do next.
I have several decisions to make, and no one who can help figure them out.
Corina and Marco are off the table because of their affiliation with BrandMe.
Nate and Brody aren’t talking to me. Sarah is dead.
Well, dead but not gone. If I’d learned anything from Fiji, it’s that Sarah is still around me when I need her most.
“I need to know what to do, Sarah,” I whisper. “I need a sign.”
A glaring one if there’s any hope of fixing my shambles of a life.
I wait in silence as if Sarah or the universe is going to solve my every obstacle by lowering some sort of to-do list to conquer.
Nothing happens aside from the wind picking up.
It’s a soft whoosh that almost sounds like a laugh—like Sarah is here with me, even if she can’t solve this particular quandary.
Maybe that’s all the reassurance I need.
On the way home from lunch with Corina (where I somehow managed not to spill about BrandMe’s offers), my phone rings.
I fish it out of my purse, seeing Brody’s name flash across the screen along with a picture of us smiling.
It was taken during our last photo shoot with Marco and BrandMe before I lost my job and any of the confusing Fiji and Nate stuff happened.
Is this the sign I’d been waiting for? Had Sarah somehow summoned him?
I answer, barely getting in a “hello” before Brody jumps in.
“Abigail, I need you back.”
He needs me. I inhale sharply at the words, expecting them to stir up a flurry of emotions or a yearning to get back together with Brody. Instead, I feel sorrow.
“Brody—”
“Wait, before you say anything else, let me get this out. No one has managed my brand the way you have. I need you back.”
Of course he’s talking about wanting me back as a brand manager and not as a girlfriend.
Honestly, the distinction is a relief. I don’t want him back as a boyfriend either, but as a client?
Just the suggestion causes a rush of energy to surge through me.
He wants me because I’m good—the best in his book, and that recognition from Brody means the world.
“I wish it were that easy,” I say, thinking about the looming BrandMe decisions and the future I want for myself.
Brody takes it to mean our history. “I know things coming out of Fiji were complicated, and perhaps I was rash in suggesting we couldn’t keep working together.
Though with everything going on, I think we all needed some space.
That doesn’t need to stand in the way of us working together again now, does it? ”
My gut says no, especially when I’m not with either Bannam brother.
But if I go back to BrandMe, it’d be up to them if I could manage Brody’s brand.
Something also tells me returning would be like taking a step back when I need to be seizing the day and racing forward.
Tackle the zipline. Conquer the waterfall. Take the jump.
I’m ready, and this is my chance to prove it.
“I’d love to manage your brand again, Brody. Under the umbrella of my new company.” The idea I had told Nate about in Fiji and further researched nearly every night since coming back.
“You’re working somewhere else?”
“I’m starting my own brand management agency. Officially this time. I know there’s risk in working with me as I grow the business and in us working together again at all, but I happen to know you love risks. And I’m one worth taking.”
He hesitates long enough to make me worry I’ve gone too far and lost Brody yet again. Things between us are still fragile, after all. Perhaps unmendable. Then he says, “You’re right. I love a good risk. Though you’re always a safe bet in my book, Abigail.”
My heart skips a beat. “Is that a yes?”
“Sign me up.”
I pump my fist in the air as I hang up the phone, forgetting I’m in the heart of the city surrounded by strangers who, if we weren’t in Vegas, might find my behavior odd. I can’t help it. There’d be a ton of work to start my business, but this is the sign I’d been waiting for.
It’s a leap I’m more than ready to take, even if it’s one I’m taking on my own.