CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TERRI
A few hours earlier
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A printed sheet is thrust in front of my face while I sit typing at my desk. Startled, I snap my head up to find Brandon and Victor glaring at me. They’re wearing designer tuxedos about to head to the gala.
“Care to explain this?” Brandon demands.
I pale, confused.
I take the sheet and see it’s an email with dozens of pages stapled to it. The DOB zoning application.
What is this?
I mean, I know what it is, but why are they asking me? Earlier, I heard that there had been a rejection, and I was as surprised as everyone else. We put a lot of work into these applications and have a team who knows exactly what they are doing.
This one was a standard application that should have been approved without any issue.
My role is filling in the form and sending it off. Which I did. On time. We can digitally trace that.
“Look at her. Guilty as fuck. Jesus, Terri.” Victor shakes his head as I flick through the documents.
“What am I looking at?” I ask, my heart thumping.
Brandon fists his hips and shakes his head. “Do you know how much you cost this company? Fuck. This could—should—a fireable offense.”
My mouth falls open.
What?
No, I can’t lose my job. My mom. Her medical bills.
I’ve done nothing wrong.
“I don’t understand?” My voice is shaking, and stomach curdles with fear.
“You changed the document. Look.” Victor rips the paper out of my hands and stabs at a line I can’t read. “This is why the zoning was declined.”
I never change these forms.
I do them for every development we have and have a very good attention to detail, so make sure I go over them, even when not asked to.
I know it was correct.
The wheels of my brain start working as the shock somewhat fades, and I narrow my eyes at Victor.
Did he do this?
The email Emily and I found today starts to make sense. Victor sent an email to Gordon Fanning advising him of the Crown Plaza project and gave him details that no one should have seen at that point in the project. It was vague, but still a breach of confidentiality.
None of which I would know if I didn’t look through his emails.
So, I can’t say anything.
“I didn’t do this,” I say, pleading with Brandon.
“The last page shows it was your computer,” he replies. “We have to leave for this event, but I want you here early tomorrow so we can discuss this with HR.”
Oh, my god.
“I—” Looking at Victor with disgust and hate in my heart.
“Eight a.m. Do not be late,” he says, and I swear there is a small smirk on his lips.
Nodding, I watch the two men walk out as I lean back in my seat, feeling deflated. Tears threaten to leak and fall down my cheeks, but I brush them away and let the anger rise.
After ten minutes, I snap.
Fuck this. My parents did not raise a victim; I’m not letting them get away with this.
I turn back to the computer and start looking for evidence. An hour and a half later, I slap my palm down on the desk. “Gotcha!”
Clicking print, I gather all the documents and put them in a clear folder. I’m ready for the meeting tomorrow.
Wait a minute.
Suddenly, an idea comes to me. I pull out my phone and message Emily.
Hey girl, are you still at the gala?
I know she was helping Amanda and the team tonight, so she’ll be able to tell me if they were there. I know I should wait until the morning, but my Mexican blood is running hot.
Victor is a traitor and is threatening my job.
My mother’s life.
No way. I will not let him do this.
For all I know, he’s up to something tonight. Mr. Remington needs to know.
I grab my bag and race downstairs, hailing a cab. I give the driver directions as I fix my makeup and check my outfit. My black A-line dress isn’t exactly black-tie appropriate, but at least I’m not in jeans or my pajamas.
Surely once Mr. Remington learns what I know, my job will be safe. Emily can back me up.
I throw a twenty-dollar bill at the driver and climb out when we arrive at the venue. “Thanks!”
Checking my phone one more time, I see Emily still hasn’t replied.
I’ll find her when I get inside.
Presenting my corporate identification, I get through security with a breeze, then stand in the doorway looking around. I see the top of Sebastian’s head as I begin to make my way into the crowd. He’s tall enough to spot easily.
When I get closer, his arms are wrapped around a woman. His mouth drops to kiss—
What the fuck?