17. Noelle
NOELLE
I'm lazing in my chair, nursing a cup of coffee that's gone lukewarm while acknowledging that while Graham is trying to burn the house down on national television, my focus remains on the quiet justice of the internal audits I just completed.
How he reacts to the net closing around him is his prerogative. As for me, I feel a quiet sense of justice having unraveled his schemes and made him disgraced at a company with his name on the wall. There's something almost poetic about it.
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now but wait and see how the rest of the story plays out.
Edward sounded urgent during our last call.
I hope it's nothing too serious. The last thing he needs is even more escalations.
Between the board, the audits, and his father, he's carrying enough weight to break a lesser man.
I should have saved some of that prayer for myself because my door creaks open and Graham bursts in with Esther, the SME n You head accountant, hot on his heels.
"You can't be here, Mr. Whitmore." Esther's voice is firm but strained. She's a small woman in her fifties, all professional composure, and Graham towers over her without even trying.
"Try and stop me." He glares at me from the threshold. His tie is loosened, and he looks like he's had a few sleepless nights.
Esther peeks from behind him, her eyes wide with apology. I give her a small nod.
"I'll handle it, E. Thank you."
The older woman glares at the back of Graham's head, her mouth pressed into a thin line. She leaves, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click.
"Will you?" Graham charges toward me, then stops abruptly halfway across the room.
I don't flinch nor stand. I just look at him. "Will I, what?"
"Handle me."
I roll my eyes. "To what do I owe this intrusive visit, Graham? Shouldn't you be laying low somewhere?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He laughs bitterly. "After all I've done for you, Noelle. You'd turn around and stab me in the back?"
What little restraint I have left snaps. I bolt out of my seat and step toward him, closing the distance between us. "Did you bump your head as a child?" The bile is obvious in my tone. "I stabbed you in the back? Me?"
"Yes!" His nostrils flare. "I gave you a way back in. A chance for us to be whole again. And what did you do with it? Spy on me for my brother! You're his lackey now? His whore?!"
No sooner do the words leave his mouth than a hand slices through the air. The sound is clean and loud in the quiet room. I stare from my raised hand to Graham clutching his cheek, his eyes wide with shock. My palm stings.
"How dare you?" Anger flashes in his eyes, but beneath it, something else. Disbelief. I can see his brain struggling to process the slap.
"Now let's get our stories straight." I smooth down my dress, my voice steady even as my pulse races in my ears.
"You kicked me to the curb and replaced me with my assistant.
Why? I don't know, nor do I care. But I'll be damned if I let you spin your sob story.
People may not have told you this at any point in your life, and I may have been one of that lot at some point, but you're wrong.
" I exhale, and some of the fire leaves my chest. My demeanor eases, just slightly.
"I don't mind how things ended between us.
It stung, sure. But everything I did was to get back a career you tried to ruin.
And if you had even the most minuscule shred of innocence in this matter, you'd not be barging into my office every three seconds with some bullshit.
So walk yourself out of here for the last time.
And to quote the Fresh Prince, keep my name out your fucking mouth. "
Graham stares at me. His cheek is already turning hot pink where my palm connected. For a moment, the only sound in the room is his ragged breathing.
“Just remember, Noelle. You spent years signing off on those deals.
You lived in my house. You shared my accounts.
When I go down, I'll make sure to take you with me. No one will be able to tell where my fraud ends and your incompetence begins.” He adjusts his suit jacket with trembling fingers and makes his way to the door.
“I'll take my chances.”
"We'll see." He glances over his shoulder, his eyes dark and empty. "But not before I put you in the ground where you belong."
"Graham?"
He pauses mid step, one hand on the doorknob.
"Make sure there aren't cameras around the next time you try to harass someone when the truth isn't in your favor."
His gaze drifts upward. He catches a glimpse of the security camera mounted to the corner of the ceiling, its small red light blinking steadily. He grinds his teeth and walks out without another word.
I drop into my seat, sighing loudly. The adrenaline leaves my body in a rush, and suddenly I'm just tired. Bone tired.
The door opens again before I can gather my thoughts. Esther re-enters, her face creased with worry.
"Are you okay, dear?"
"Mmhmm." I can only manage a nod.
She hovers near my desk, wringing her hands. "Is this a bad time to tell you that you're trending on LinkedIn?"
"LinkedIn?" I look up, puzzled. "No one trends on LinkedIn. It's all marketing to get you to pay for Premium."
"No, not in that way. One Vanessa Kline is calling you out."
Fuck my life. I close my eyes and exhale through my mouth. "Thanks, Esther. I'll check it out."
She hesitates, as if she wants to say more, then nods and slips back out. The door slams shut. I'm alone again.
I roll my seat closer to my desk and pull up LinkedIn on my open laptop. Sure enough, it's the first post I see. Vanessa tagged me, gracelessly.
Who starts beef on LinkedIn? Isn't that what Twitter is for?
I scroll through her post. It reads like she borrowed some of Graham's delusions and ran them through a thesaurus.
She basically blames me for being on the cusp of losing a job she had worked so hard to get.
She talks about toxic workplace culture and labels me as a boss who could never stand to see junior staff rise through the ranks, much less succeed her.
If the post itself is ridiculous, I'm unprepared for the comments.
I scroll down, bracing for the worst, and find something else entirely.
The thread is filled with junior staff from Whitmore Holdings defending me.
Name after name. People I trained, promoted, and fought for in budget meetings when the brass wanted to cut their roles.
They're calling out Vanessa for twisting the facts, sharing their own experiences working under me, and dismantling her narrative one comment at a time.
"Well, how'd you like them apples?" I smirk to myself.
But why stop there?
I open my app tray and launch the recorder app. Positioning myself in front of the webcam, I take a breath and begin to speak.
"Hello, everyone. I'd like to start by saying I'm grateful to the people who've stood by me and defended me lately. The past month has been rather rough. But it feels surreal to know that being a good person and putting good into the world and doing your job well is still rewarding."
I pause, steadying my voice.
"With that out of the way, I'd like to tell my story now.
At least, the version that omits sensitive details that are integral to developing suits.
My relationship with Graham Whitmore ended when I found him in bed with my then-PA, Vanessa Kline, who's now making unfounded accusations about me.
They kicked me out, and the relationship ended on the spot.
The next day, I was out of a job. Graham made it clear that Vanessa was my replacement in every way.
I did not seek revenge. Instead, Edward Whitmore, the CEO of Whitmore Holdings, employed me for my skills at his own company, from which I also consulted for my old firm.
We've since uncovered unsavoury things about Graham, which has only earned me harassment at his hand, including a few minutes ago.
His new girlfriend is the latest to try and besmirch my name.
I want to make it clear that I do not fear either of them.
And you'll all learn why when this matter makes it to court.
Until then, this is as much as I can share.
Thank you for listening to my side of the story. "
I stop the recording and save the video. My hands are steady. My heart is not.
I switch back to my LinkedIn tab, the cursor hovering over the post button. For a moment, I hesitate. This video will be seen by everyone. Colleagues. Clients. Future employers. The board. Edward. Once it's out, there's no pulling it back.
Ah, well. I upload it.