Chapter 6 #2
Or, maybe, it’s what everyone needed said so we could move forward in a new direction.
“We could be the firm that takes on AVX Core, not the one that defends them,” I said, the idea taking flight, wild and beautiful.
“We could be the ones who set a precedent that corporations can’t hide behind shield laws when they put profits over people.
We have the talent. We have the resources.
We could change the whole damn game, not just keep winning the same rigged one repeatedly.
We can do anything. Be the firm that people cheer for, not the one they fear.
We could be the good guys.” I let my hands fall to my sides, my closing argument delivered. “Let’s be the good guys.”
I’d laid it all out there: the indictment, the evidence, the alternate path to a verdict we could actually be proud of.
For a beat, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Perhaps the flicker in Sarah’s eyes was a ghost of that idealistic law student?
But just as soon as it appeared, it was gone. Quickly extinguished, replaced by the cool, calculated pragmatism of a partner.
That’s when I understood that I was not going to win this one.
The rest of them just stared back, their expressions ranging from bewildered to vaguely annoyed. As if I’d just proposed we conduct all future business in interpretive dance.
“We are the good guys,” Douglas said, unamused. “This firm donates hundreds of thousands to charity every year.”
They did. But they only donated to the places that would amplify the brand, not the ones that did the most good.
“And we can’t donate that money without earning it first,” Sarah said, defensive as all hell.
“I think what we have here is a breakdown in fundamental business philosophy,” Len said, frowning.
“I agree,” I said, carefully. I tapped my fingertips on the mahogany before I said, “You can all consider this my resignation.”
I went numb as I spoke the words, and there was a distinct acid reflux working its way up my throat. But, through all of that, was also a little dash of pride sprinkled in.
Enough to keep me moving forward.
“Maybe think this through before you throw away your career,” Sarah suggested.
“You have a non-compete.” Douglas shoved his hands on his hips. “You leave? You won’t practice law in Colorado.”
“I know.” I did know. And I didn’t care. “And you don’t have to worry. I don’t want to compete with you.”
Not when I had the hope of my chocolate shop.
The thought stood solid in my mind. And it smelled like melted cocoa and toasted sugar.
It would be a life where the goal was to create delight, not reasonable doubt.
Douglas blinked, his smile faltering. “No?”
“No,” I repeated. The word felt solid. Real. A one-word revolution. “You don’t have to worry about me. I knew what I agreed to when I signed it.”
My Colorado law degree was the firm’s now. Fine. Let them have it.
“Douglas.” I licked my bottom lip. “Just so we are totally clear, this is me quitting.”
The words left my mouth and just… stayed there.
“I’ll touch base with Katy in HR about the paperwork and contracts.
But it’s policy not to keep someone at my level on after they’ve given notice.
So I’ll go grab my stuff, and be out of your hair.
” My legs felt like they were made of champagne bubbles and pure adrenaline.
I was already moving toward the door, my heart hammering a frantic beat against my ribs.
I didn’t look back.
If I looked back, I’d turn to stone. Or worse, I’d turn back into the person who would have taken the case.
The conference room door clicking shut behind me was the sound of a cage door swinging closed, only I was on the outside this time.
There was a silent countdown with every step I took down the hall to my office. I needed to grab my stuff and, if I waited too long, then security would be here to escort me out and that did not seem like a good time.
Don’t look back. Don’t think. Just walk.
“Emily, wait up!” The frantic words belonged to Dallas. I stopped but didn’t turn around, squeezing my eyes shut.
Please don’t try to talk me out of it. Please don’t tell me I’m crazy.
She appeared at my side, her face flushed and her eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. “That was… I don’t even have words. That was like the end of a movie where the hero finally tells the big bad guy to shove it.”
I managed a weak, shaky smile. “I’m not sure I’m the hero in this story, Dallas. And I have no idea what happens next, so this isn’t exactly a Hollywood script.”
“Are you kidding me?” she breathed, her tablet clutched to her chest. “You know what? I’m quitting, too. Ha! Take that Douglas!”
The air rushed out of my lungs. My own reckless freedom was suddenly a lead weight.
“No.” The word was sharp, instinctive. I finally turned to face her fully. “Dallas, you can’t. This was my decision, my implosion. Not yours. You have a life. You have a boyfriend who cries about backup cornerbacks. You have responsibilities.”
“So do you,” she shot back, her chin jutting out with a surprising fire. “I can’t stay here knowing what they do. What we do. I’m not just going to sit back and file the paperwork for the next AVX Core. You opened the curtain. I can’t unsee the wizard, and frankly, he’s an asshole.”
I had accounted for financial ruin, professional exile, and a lifetime of my mother’s disappointment. I had not, however, planned on taking anyone else down with me. The sudden weight of her future was heavier than my own.
“This is your career. You need to think this through. You can’t just throw it away because of one speech,” I said.
A good speech, sure. But still…
She shook her head, her conviction absolute and terrifying. “This is the first thing that’s felt right in a long time.”
Before I could formulate a counterargument with something logical and persuasive about 401(k)s and the unforgiving Denver rental market, a quiet voice cut in—
“She’s not the only one.”
We both turned. It was Maria, one of Len’s top paralegals.
She was standing by the entrance to the administrative bay, her coat already on and her work tote slung over her shoulder. Her expression was calm, her eyes clear. “I just gave my notice. I won’t be the one to draft the motions that ruin some guy’s life just for the paycheck.”
My jaw, which I thought had hit its functional limit for dropping, went slack all over again.
Then, from behind her, a junior associate I barely knew—Kevin, I thought his name was—walked up. He held up his security badge, dangling it from a finger like a dead fish.
“Me too. My dad has a pacemaker.” His voice was low, thick with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “What if it’s one of theirs? I can’t be a part of this.”
It was a slow-motion chain reaction.
A quiet, dignified exodus. Sarah’s assistant came next with a shaky thumbs-up. Another paralegal walked past, setting her firm-issued laptop on an empty reception desk with a quiet finality before heading for the elevators.
There was no dramatic music swell. Only a handful of people deciding they’d had enough.
And a few of them were looking at me like I was their leader.
Like I had a plan.
Is this a flash mob? A very polite, professionally-dressed flash mob of the gainfully unemployed?
The thought was entirely unhelpful. I was supposed to be the calculated one, the strategist.
But I’d just inspired a mutiny I had no idea how to lead, and the sudden responsibility made my stomach churn all over again.
I grabbed my phone and immediately texted Finn.
Emily: just quit my job & I think I accidentally started a cult
The three dots appeared almost immediately.
Finn: cult leader is a solid career pivot. solid benefits?
Emily: I’m serious
Finn: I know. you okay?
I stared at the question.
Emily: ask me again in about 6 weeks
I put my phone in my pocket and turned back to the small, bewildered collection of people who had decided to follow me off a cliff.