Chapter 19 #2
“You can do that?” The question slipped out before I could dress it up.
“Say the word,” Luka said, as casually as if he were offering to order us coffee.
I stared at the monitors, at the collage of damnation waiting to be unleashed.
I should have said yes.
I should have let him hit send and detonate the nuke, burn Richard’s life down to the foundation. But the truth was, I just wanted it all to disappear. I wanted my body back, my mind back, my footing back. Retaliation felt like letting him live inside my head rent-free, forever.
“Not that I don’t think he deserves every bit of it and more,” I said, my voice brittle, “I just want this to go away.”
Luka leaned back on the edge of the desk. “And what happens when you go back to work tomorrow?” The way he asked it made it clear he already knew. “You think he will take no for an answer?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but a pulse of light from Luka’s phone cut through the dark. He checked the screen, jaw flexed, then angled it toward me.
“Someone’s ringing you.”
I recognized the number: my home office in Atlanta.
“It’s my office,” I said, pulse threading fast and hostile through my wrists. I stood too quickly, cracking my knee on the edge of Luka’s desk.
He handed me his phone.
I took it but hesitated over the Answer button. “I need to take this. And then we’re discussing the phone mirror situation.”
He nodded, silent as a closed door.
The call connected mid-ring as I stepped out of Luka’s office and toward the living room. The muted hallway light was harsh after the electric blue wash.
“This is Alex.”
“Hey, Alex, it’s Greg.” My boss’s voice snapped and crackled through the transatlantic connection. “Everything okay over there?”
I drew in a breath. “Sure. Why do you ask?”
Greg hesitated. “Well, funny thing. I just got off the phone with Richard Montgomery, and he’s none too pleased. What’s going on, Alex?”
I braced my palm on the rigid back of Luka’s couch and tried to keep my voice steady. “What did he say?”
“Let’s start with why you walked out of a client meeting mid-session and never returned.”
My blood froze. “There was a fire alarm. The building was evacuated.”
“And you didn’t go back.”
“I spoke with the office assistant.” I spun up my lie from earlier. “The alarm gave me a migraine. I needed to lie down. But I’m on track with the projects, and I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”
Greg let out a short cough—the one he used when maneuvering around uncomfortable territory. “He also mentioned…erratic behavior. Said you’ve been distracted. Upset. Possibly even—his words—‘unfit for work.’”
Ice crept into my fingertips.
“He’s concerned about your well-being,” Greg went on, his tone shifting into the gentler register reserved for HR disasters and condolence calls.
I barked a laugh. It wasn’t funny, but the alternative was screaming. “Oh, I assure you, he’s not worried about my welfare.”
Silence stretched across the line.
“Is there something I need to know?” Greg asked.
I straightened, dragging the shreds of my composure around me like threadbare armor. “Nothing that impacts the job. Richard and I had a difference of opinion, but it’s resolved. I’m one hundred percent focused. The deliverables will be there. I’ll exceed target, Greg.”
Silence. Then, “Yeah. Well—”
“What?” My voice was controlled, polished from years of outmaneuvering rooms full of men who thought they could rattle me.
He exhaled, the phone making it a wet, papery sound. “You know I think the world of you, Alex. You’re one of the best. I wouldn’t have sent you unless I was certain you could handle it. But…”
Always a but. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Richard raised some…conduct concerns. Both in and outside the office.” A long, uncomfortable pause. “I’m not saying I believe him, but the client is spooked.”
My jaw went rigid. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Look, I’m on your side. You know I am. But I’m in a tough position.” He hesitated. “Hallstrom Group is moving to cancel the contract. I don’t need to spell out what that means.”
“Over what?” My voice ticked up a register I usually reserved for telemarketers and uncooperative automated telephone prompts. “You can’t be serious.”
Greg didn’t hesitate. “Their words—not mine—were ‘failure to supply a competent and professional on-site consultant.’” The pause was long enough to let the insult sink in. “He also said your conduct toward him and…other men in the office has been ‘wholly inappropriate.’ Again, not my words.”
I nearly dropped the phone. “Jesus. That’s not even close to what happened.”
“So walk me through it. Because right now, I’ve got a multinational client threatening legal action and HR breathing down my neck. You’re four thousand miles away, and I’m over here with the mop on aisle three.”
I took a slow breath, pinching the bridge of my nose until the white static behind my eyes cleared. “Richard initiated a conversation unrelated to work. I shut it down.”
Greg exhaled. “Did you, though? Because what it sounds like is—”
“Greg,” I cut in, my voice sharp as a blade. “He made an inappropriate advance. I told him to back off. He’s retaliating because I embarrassed him. That’s the whole story.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “That’s…not nothing.”
I hated his tone. Hated the part of me that wanted him to rescue me.
“It doesn’t affect my work,” I said, armor snapping back into place. “I didn’t miss deadlines. I didn’t compromise deliverables. And I didn’t create a scene. I’ve got this.”
Greg was quiet for so long, I checked the screen to make sure we were still connected.
“You know I support you, right?” he said at last.
Tears stung as they welled up. I squeezed my eyes shut, but they slid down my face anyway, hot and furious.
“But the optics are bad. You know how these things work.”
My jaw ached from clenching. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you need to come home. Roxanne’s already booked you on the first flight out of Heathrow tomorrow morning.”
Just like that. My whole chest rattled, like someone had kicked it in.
“Greg—”
“Listen.” He cut me off, voice heavy but gentle. “This isn’t a punishment. If anything, I’m getting you out before things turn uglier. This is me protecting you, not caving to the client. Okay?”
It wasn’t, but there was no point in saying so. “Okay.”
“Good. You’re traveling tomorrow, so let’s meet one-on-one after you’re back.” He hesitated, likely checking his calendar. “Nine a.m. Wednesday?”
I sank my teeth into the insides of my cheeks. “Wednesday,” I echoed, as if reading from a script. “See you then.”
“Great. Safe travels.”
The line went dead.
I stood there staring at the phone, legs stiff as concrete, the silence pressing in until it rang in my ears.