4. Edward
EDWARD
Ilook up from my desktop as a soft knock raps on my door. The doorknob turns, and in walks Zachary Lee Davids.
Zachary is the head of legal. He’s a bespectacled beanpole of a man who looks like he belongs on a basketball court with power forwards rather than in a courtroom with wig-wearing judges. He’s carrying a manila folder by his side.
“Boss?”
“Zach.”
I don't invite him to sit; he just does, folding his long limbs into the leather chair across from me. He sets the file on the table between us.
“We’ve got a problem,” Zach says. His voice is flat—the tone he uses when the house is on fire but he’s already calculated the insurance payout.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning back. The leather creaks.
“Graham’s made a move.”
“J we both succeeded our fathers.
The Whitmores and the Davids’ are more than business associates; they’re an institution.
Zachary’s father ran the firm that represented Whitmore Holdings during my father’s tenure as CEO.
When I took over, I wanted more than just a lawyer on retainer; I wanted something in-house.
I practically begged Zachary to join the company and head the legal department.
His father wasn't pleased—giving up a partnership at a prestigious firm to go in-house for a single client felt like a step down to the old man. But he took solace in the fact that Zachary could always return if he tires of Whitmore Holdings.
Zach points a finger at the file. “This just came in. We’re getting sued.”
“What? By whom?”
“Noelle Carter.”
I shut my eyes and slouch in my seat, letting out an elongated sigh.
The air in the office feels suddenly stale.
I didn't expect her to move this quickly. She walked out of the penthouse yesterday with nothing but a suitcase and her pride, and twenty-four hours later, she’s serving papers?
It’s impressive. But it’s also a nightmare.
“What could she possibly be suing for?” I ask, eyes still closed.
“Graham being a horrible boyfriend isn’t a company problem.
We don’t have a clause against dating a cunt with familial ties to the company.
What jury would side with her for wasting her time with a man who has the emotional depth of a puddle? ”
“She’s not suing for a broken heart, Edward,” Zach says. “She’s suing for wrongful termination and theft.”
My eyes flutter open in an instant. I sit upright. “What do you mean wrongful termination and theft? She’s the VP of Finance. We should be the ones suing her for signing off on those J it was a cleanup operation.”
“Considering he made the announcement himself this morning, that’s not unlikely,” Zach says.
“Then, whether or not he said the word ‘fired’ is irrelevant. She’s been replaced. Her duties were stripped and handed to a subordinate. Did he mention a different role for her? A lateral move?”
“Nope.”
“Then that’s still wrongful termination, Zach. Any lawyer with a pulse will argue constructive discharge.”
“Not if we argue the company is restructuring or cutting dead weight,” Zach says, though he doesn't sound like he believes it.
I stop pacing and strut toward my desk, leaning over and placing my palms flat against the mahogany.
I stare him down. “Noelle has been here for six years. She started under my father as a Junior Analyst and rose through the ranks because she’s a shark.
You try telling a jury that one of our best financial strategists is suddenly ‘dead weight’ when her department continues to pass audits and outperform every other sector in the company. ”
Zach shrugs. “When the facts are against you, sell feelings. Graham will try to paint her as a disgruntled ex-lover.”
“I’m not interested in Graham’s theater,” I snap. “Get me a sit-down with Noelle Carter.”
Zachary shakes his head. “I don't recommend it, and I don't think her lawyer will allow it either. It’s a procedural minefield.”
“Zach, you know every attorney worth their salt in this part of town. Noelle has likely gone to someone who can close this case in court or squeeze us for a hefty settlement. The facts are in her favor, and my meeting her only plays into their hands further—I know that. But we have insurance for times like these.”
“Only they won't pay if they think you knowingly worsened the issue by engaging with the plaintiff outside of legal channels,” Zach warns.
“I don't care. Take it out of my bonuses. I’ll pay the damn settlement myself if I have to. But get me a sit-down with Noelle Carter. Today.”
The son of a bitch actually does it. By the close of work, a text vibrates on my desk telling me to meet at a boutique on Truman's Drive. It’s an odd choice for a meetup—too public. But the moment I step inside, the choice makes sense. This is neutral ground. This is her friend’s territory.
The boutique smells of fabric and naphthalene. Noelle is sitting in the small office in the back, her arms crossed. She looks different. Angry.
“This is Yadira,” Noelle says, gesturing to the woman beside her.
Yadira stares at me like she’s measuring me for a coffin.
“Hi.” I offer a hand. She ignores it. “Right.” I take my seat.
“My lawyer said you wanted to meet.” Noelle’s voice is cold.
“Just so you know, this conversation is recorded,” Yadira chimes in, holding up a phone. “So, choose your words carefully, Mr. Whitmore.”
“I expect nothing less,” I say, turning my attention back to Noelle. “I’ve not come as a pity party. I’m not here to apologize for my brother, either. And I certainly haven't come to try to dissuade you from your suit.”
Noelle frowns. “So, why are you here? To offer me a hush-money check?”
“I have a proposal for you.”
She scoffs, a sharp, ugly sound. “Why would I want to trust another Whitmore brother? One took my life, and now you’re here to take what’s left of my dignity?”
I sigh, leaning forward. “There’s no love lost between Graham and me, Noelle.
I’m sure you’ve witnessed enough board meetings to know I find him incompetent.
But it goes deeper than that. I believe there’s something unscrupulous going on with our finances.
It may pass audits regularly, but I can smell the bullshit regardless. ”
“Fuck you!” Noelle juts a finger at me. Her face flushes with a sudden, violent anger. “You came all the way here to insult my work? That’s the line you want to toe? That I was inept at my job?”
“No, not you,” I say, keeping my voice steady. I need her to listen, not explode. “Graham. But if your case goes to trial, there’s a very real chance he tries to pin the discrepancies on you. He’ll make you the fall guy for his own greed.”
Noelle scoffs again, but the anger is cooling into suspicion. “Yeah, right. My records are impeccable. I have backups of every ledger I’ve touched in the last three years.”
“That is true. You are our best and brightest. But your finances are entangled with Graham’s, are they not?”
She inhales heavily. I’ve struck a nerve.
“J&J. Ring a bell?” I ask.
“The consultants?”
“Yeah. Did it ever strike you as odd how much they charged for ‘strategic insights’ on projects they didn't even need to advise on?”
Noelle lets out a long, mirthless laugh. She looks at Yadira, then back at me. “Is this a joke? J&J is a shell for Whitmore Holdings. It’s the worst-kept secret in the department. Graham said it was to reduce tax burdens. ‘Hollywood accounting,’ he called it.”
I feel a chill go down my spine. “Except there is no subsidiary, Noelle.”
The laughter dries from her face instantly. “What?”
“Whitmore Holdings has no corporate ties to J&J. I believe it’s Graham’s personal shell. He’s been siphoning company funds and using your signature to authorize the transfers.”
The silence in the boutique is absolute. Even Yadira looks stunned.
“Graham said it was legal,” Noelle whispers.
“It would be, if the company owned the shell. But we don't. And if your finances are entangled—if you’ve been sharing accounts and signing off on every J&J charge in the last two years…” I trail off, letting her finish the puzzle.
“Graham could argue that I was using it to embezzle funds,” Noelle says, her voice trembling. “He’ll say I was cleaning the money through our joint accounts and he was too ‘distracted’ to notice.”
“Right on the money. No pun intended.”
“But I didn't!”
“And I believe you. But you’ve got to help me prove who did. Because even if you win your wrongful termination case, you’re going to be too radioactive to have a corporate career in this country. You’ll be the VP who missed a multi-million dollar fraud. Or worse, the one who facilitated it.”
I glance at Yadira. She looks visibly agitated, like she wants to lunge at me, but the logic of what I’m saying is holding her back.
“Here.” I withdraw a rectangular, matte-black card from my pocket and place it on the small table between us. “Call me if you make up your mind. I’ll reinstate your pay from out-of-pocket. You’ll work off the books, directly for me.”