Chapter 42
DEXTER
SEVERAL DAYS LATER
She’s in my head all the time. When she isn’t, it’s because I force myself onto something else. The Swan presentation is coming up, fast. Macro hasn’t made another move to push the date. Neither has Swan. On paper, we’re ready.
But inside, I’ve still got a rat to deal with.
At first, I was sure it was Macro feeding information to the press, but after we planted false numbers (as Holly suggested), it became clear the breach was closer to home.
Only someone inside the company could have known those figures.
Keith followed the trail, and Reed confirmed the name: some junior tech guy—low-level, quiet type, overlooked, and according to Reed, probably bitter he didn’t get the promotion he thought he deserved.
I have Hermine call him in.
A young man, I’d put him at twenty-five, comes in looking like he’s already been found guilty. He sits across from me, hands twisting in his lap, sweating. I clock him instantly. He was one of the guys who helped set up the Swan call. And the one I saw late that night down the corridor.
“Do you know why I called you in here, Bob?” I ask.
He shakes his head slightly, staring at me. “I-I’m not sure.”
“Try real hard.”
His shoulders slump, and he bends his head, looking down. He swallows.
“Do you remember the paperwork you signed when we hired you?” I lean in just enough, fingers stapled. “The legal stack. It was impressive in volume, if nothing else.”
He looks back up at me. “Yes… sir.”
“Did you read it?”
“I… Of course.”
“Interesting. Because if you had, you’d know that one of those documents was an NDA. It’s very clear about what happens when something goes beyond these walls.”
His face grows pale, but he remains silent.
“Were you aware you signed an NDA, Robert?”
He nods. All at once he breaks down and spills everything. Talks about a car accident, no insurance, depression, bills piling up. Says it wasn’t his fault, neither driver was covered. Keeps repeating that, his eyes wet, voice shaking.
And yeah, I feel for the guy. But that doesn’t excuse what he did.
What he doesn’t know—the poor fucking schmuck—is that right now, I can’t afford a scandal, and I’m not ready to shout from the rooftops that Thorne Architects employees are in the habit of leaking numbers to anybody who’s willing to pay a buck or two.
Mitch wants me to slip. Any bad press, and we can kiss the Swan account goodbye.
Crossing my arms, I settle back in my chair. “Well, here’s how this goes. I have two options. One: I fire you and hand the NDA to legal. It’ll take months. They bill by the hour, and it adds up faster than you think. You won’t like the final number.”
Bob sways in his seat. I half expect him to pass out.
“Or two,” I say, unhurried, “you resign. You hand over your badge, HR does what HR does, security walks you out, and you leave with what little dignity this situation allows.”
He wipes sweat off his brow. “Can I at least grab my stuff?”
“No. We’ll box it up and send it to you.”
He scurries out, tail between his legs.
“Call security,” I say to Hermine before the door even shuts behind him, to make sure he doesn’t take a detour on his way out.
After that, I’m on the phone with IT. I want him locked out of every system we’ve got: email, servers, remote access.
I don’t want him so much as sniffing a Wi-Fi signal tied to our name.
Ten minutes later, I have confirmation he’s locked out. Permanently.
I want to tell Holly. Her idea worked.
But before I can reach for my phone, Keith and Reed step into my office with their presentation materials.
“Bob? First clue right there. Never trust a man whose name is the same forwards and backwards,” Keith says. “May he be afflicted with itchin’ without the benefit of scratchin’.”
“I take it he didn’t put up much of a fight.” Reed sets his laptop on the table.
“Didn’t need to,” I say. “Gave him a choice. He made the right one.”
Keith snorts. “Aye, poor bastard looked like he was about to pass out in the hallway. I told him to have a drink.”
I push back from my desk. “All right, let’s run this thing.”
We get to work, going through the presentation line by line. Reed handles the financials. I cover the structure of the presentation. Keith chimes in with delivery notes, tightening transitions, reworking phrasing. We’ve done this enough to read each other without speaking.
But today, I’m pushing harder. I feel it. So do they.
After a full run-through, I glance at the clock. Thirty-seven minutes. “Again. It’s too long. We’ll lose their attention.”
Keith exhales through his nose. “Boss…”
“I said again.”
“It’s sound. Tight. I think we’re fine, boss.”
“I’m not walking into that room with a presentation that’s just ‘fine.’” Keith and Reed exchange a glance. I catch it. “Something to say, gentlemen?”
Keith, alarmed, drops his eyes.
Reed just shakes his head at me. “It’s good, Dexter. Clean. If they don’t take it, that’s on them, not us.” He glances at his watch. “Finance call in five. Then lunch with my sister.”
Keith’s head lifts a fraction at the word sister. Just a fraction.
“Tear it apart if you want,” Reed adds. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Go,” I say. “We’ll circle back later.”
Reed nods and steps out.
The second the door clicks shut, Keith turns to me. “This is lunacy. I know it’s one of the biggest contracts we’ve ever landed, but there is such a thing as overpreparin’. The pitch is perfect, boss. Ya know it is.”
I rub the back of my neck. “We’ve still got time to sharpen it.”
“Ah, come off it. I’ve seen ya under pressure. Ya don’t start roarin’ orders unless somethin’s gettin’ at ya. Are things with Holly that bad?”
I hesitate. “She won’t talk to me. One text a day, just to say she and the baby are fine. That’s it.”
Keith sits across from me and leans back. “And it’s killin’ ya.”
“I can fix this, if she’d let me.”
“Let me give ya a bit of advice.”
“I’m not buying vibrators.”
“Oh, ye didn’t give that a go yet?” He looks at me like I might still consider it. “Pity. Thought, we’d get a group discount. All right then. Mr. Expert-in-Relationships comin’ to the rescue. Would ya settle for an observation?”
I blow out a long breath. He won’t rest. “Sure.”
“You and Holly? You’ve got somethin’ most people never find. I saw it before the baby, before all the confusion. Even now, as mad as she is, I don’t think it’s enough to end the friendship. So, here’s my advice. Just stop pushin’. Let her breathe. Let her come to you.”
I incline my head slowly. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Meanwhile… I got somethin’ that will sort ya out.”
Keith slides his tablet across the desk, showing me a bold headline on the front page of the New York Business Review.
Macro Enterprise CEO May Lose
Million Dollar Contract to Thorne Architects
I smirk. “Catchy title.”
“Knew it’d make ya smile.” He grins. “Lesson there, don’t go feckin’ with us.”
“Damn right.”
Keith gets to his feet. “Right. I’ll give the pitch one more go, boss. Might be somethin’ left to trim.”
“Yeah. Let’s not leave anything to chance.”
“Mitch’s got nothin’ on us, and he knows it. Swan’s already ours.”
“Take a break,” I decide. “We’ll run it one last time this afternoon.”
“Aye aye, boss.”
He heads out. I contemplate grabbing an espresso, but my phone buzzes. My heart kicks up when I see her name.
Holly:
Hey, are you going to be home later?
Me:
I can be.
Holly:
Okay. I’ll come by at 7 after work.
It’s like coming up for fresh air after being underwater for too long.
Me:
Glad you’re ready to talk. I have good news.
She doesn’t respond.
Of course.
But even so, it’s a start. She’s coming to me.