5. Noelle
NOELLE
“So, what's the big plan?” Yadira asks, sliding into the seat Edward just vacated.
“I’m not sure.”
Yadira pauses, her eyes searching mine. “It doesn’t look that way. You’re playing mental chess. I know that look.”
I feel my face soften into a small smile. “Maybe.”
“Tell me, Elle.”
“I’m going to work tomorrow.”
A pause. Yadira blinks, waiting for a punchline. “That’s it? You’re just… going back?”
“Technically, I’m still the VP of Finance.” I shrug. “I haven’t been notified of a dismissal, nor have I received word of a promotion or a change of role. Until I get a formal letter from HR, I’m still employed by Whitmore Holdings.”
“Even after the lawsuit?”
I snatch Edward’s card off the desk, holding it between two fingers. “Especially after the lawsuit. If Edward is as keen on dismantling Graham as he says, he’ll keep that suit under wraps. The Head of Legal is Edward’s right-hand man, too; he won’t leak a word to Graham.”
“Okay,” Yadira nods slowly, leaning in. “But what’s the actual plan? You aren’t just going back to business as usual, are you?”
“No,” I let out a short, dry laugh. “I’m going back to read the room. Graham thinks he has an ace, but I want my own. Even 'bad employees' are entitled to due process. I want to hear what Graham has to say about that.”
Yadira relaxes, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Touché, Noelle. Touché.”
I wear my brightest, most expensive smile the next morning. The doorman greets me with the same cheerful nod he’s given me for years, but the warmth dies the second I cross the threshold of the lobby.
The air in the room swings dramatically. The usual morning bustle—the clinking of coffee cups and the low hum of corporate gossip—grinds to a sudden, jarring halt. Scores of eyes dart in my direction, groups of people who were laughing seconds ago fall into a synchronized silence.
I don’t look at them nor acknowledge the furtive glances or the way people physically step back to create a path for me. I make a beeline for the elevators, push the button, and step into the cabin. As the doors slide shut, I finally let myself breathe.
When the doors open on my floor, I walk toward my office, passing a few assistants who turn in confusion. I stop briefly at my door.
The name tag has already been changed. Vanessa Kline.
A bitter taste coats my tongue, but I force a smile anyway. I keep walking towards the end of the floor until I reach a set of heavy oak doors. Graham’s office. I don’t knock, merely twist the knob and saunter in, just as I’ve done a thousand times before.
In the past, I’d find a boyfriend happy to see me. This time, I find Vanessa giggling in the arms of Graham who's perched on his desk, hands grabbing her ass, face buried in the crook of her neck.
I clear my throat to announce my presence, and they spring apart like guilty teenagers. Graham’s face goes from flushed to murderous in a heartbeat.
“Jesus, fuck! Don’t you knock?” He snaps, adjusting his jacket to hide the visible bulge against his slacks.
“Why are you here?” Vanessa asks, her voice high and shrill as she fumbles with the buttons of her blouse.
“I work here, dum-dum,” I say, tilting my head. I look past her to Graham, who is now rounding his desk to retreat into his chair. “Graham, a minute?”
“I have nothing to say to you, Noelle.”
“Really? Not even an explanation as to why my assistant’s name is on my door?”
Vanessa sneers, brushing her hair with her fingers. “Some girls just can’t take a hint.”
“Shut up and get out.” I flash her a saccharine smile.
She gasps, turning to Graham with wide, theatrical eyes. “You’re going to let her speak to me like that?”
Graham sighs, rubbing his temples. “Give us a minute, babe.”
Vanessa glowers at me, smoothing her skirt as she struts past. “I’ll be watching the clock.”
“Oh, honey!” I call after her, “that’s all you were ever good for.”
The door slams hard enough to rattle the frames on the wall. I take the seat across from Graham, crossing my legs with calculated grace.
“Elle—”
“Please,” I hold up a hand. “It’s Noelle. And I’ll be the one doing the talking.”
He smirks, leaning back. “Fine. What would you like to talk about?”
“Am I being promoted? Demoted? Your memo didn’t specify. It just made it clear your whore was taking my office.”
Graham shrugs. “What can I say? I’m cleaning house.”
“That doesn’t answer the question of my placement.”
“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” He leans forward, his hands clasped on the desk. “I’ve replaced you. With someone better. You’re done, Noelle. Finito.”
“Oh. Am I? Well, seeing as I’m not a toy you can just discard at your discretion, did you happen to run this replacement by HR?”
“I don’t need to. My name is on the building.”
“Your father’s name is on the building,” I correct him, my voice dropping an octave. “You’re just a fool who shares it.”
The smirk on his face gives way to a hardened scowl. “Watch yourself, girl.”
“Why? You’ve cut off my money, replaced me without a single disciplinary filing, and tried to kick me to the curb without so much as a heads-up. When you aren’t busy groping your new VP, you should take a trip down to Legal. Ask them about labor regulations.”
Graham springs up from his seat, looming over the desk. “Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening you?” I pull my phone from my purse and lay it flat on the desk. The screen is lit up. The recording app has been running for exactly eight minutes. “Why would I threaten you during a recording?”
Graham’s face turns a violent shade of red. He stares at the counting numbers on the screen, then back at me.
“Delete that. Now!”
“Why?” I pout, mocking the very look Vanessa uses. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll give you your damn job back!” He shouts, his voice cracking with desperation. “Is that what you want? Are you happy now, you freeloading bitch?”
I wince and retrieve my device. “I knew you weren’t the brightest, Graham. But—Jesus!—I’m still recording.”
He slumps back into his chair, burying his face in his palms as the gravity of his words sinks in. “Get out.”
“Toodaloo.”
I exit his office, and stop briefly to find Vanessa pacing like a caged animal behind the glass door of my old office. I blow her a kiss and head straight for the top floor.
Zachary is seated across from Edward when the secretary ushers me in.
“Ms. Carter,” Zachary says, offering a professional nod.
“Mr. Davids.” I nod back.
“Sit, Noelle. We have much to discuss,” He says, waving me to the seat next to Zachary.
“I’m taking you up on your offer,” I state.
“Is that right?” He finally looks up from his laptop. “Word in the building is that you just had a row with my brother.”
“Word travels fast.”
“‘Tis the way of bad press,” Zachary chimes in.
“Indeed.” I turn my focus to Edward. “You told me your brother had an ace, so I decided to get one of my own. Even if he intends to throw me under the bus, I’m still entitled to due process when it comes to termination of employment.
I now have a recording of your brother admitting to several labor law violations.
Besides, no right-thinking company would let me go that easily if they suspect me of embezzlement—least of all, letting me sue first.”
Zachary looks at me, then slowly turns to Edward. A small, surprised glimmer of respect reflects on his face. “She’s good.”
“I’m glad you agree,” I say, pulling my phone out once more and setting it on the table between them. “Because I’m recording this conversation, too.”
A brief silence ensues. Then, Zachary bursts into a long, throaty laugh—a stark contrast to his usual reserved persona.
“How come we never spoke more?” he asks, shaking his head as he recovers. “My father would love you! Have you got any footing in law?” He pulls his own phone out and starts dialing. “Never mind. I’m sure he’ll find a place for you regardless.”
“Jesus, Zach!” He mutters, though his eyes are fixed on me with an intensity that feels dangerously like admiration. “You shouldn’t be poaching our best talent. Your entire job is to prevent that.”
“You poached my father’s best talent,” Zachary retorts, unbothered.
“Maybe. But you were still years from making senior partner.”
I watch the exchange, amused. Despite the fact that I just admitted to holding them both legally hostage, there isn't a shred of tension in the air. If anything, they seem to respect me even more.
I reach out, placing a hand on Zachary’s arm to stop his dialing. “Maybe when this is all over, Zach.”
“Good point.” He tucks the phone away. “But the offer stands.”
“Now that we’re done with my attorney trying to help another firm steal our VP of Finance,” Edward exhales, “let’s talk terms.”
“Former VP,” Zachary chirps.
“Former,” I agree.
“Fine.” Edward sighs, sliding a heavy brown envelope across the desk. “I have a start-up I’d like you to run.”
“J&J?” I can’t help the smirk.
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” His expression is dry. “It’s an accounting firm serving SMEs, helping them balance the books and navigate tax law.”
“Any affiliations to Whitmore Holdings?”
“None. It’s my company—the one I intend to head when I finally leave this building. It isn't my destiny to run my father’s empire forever.”
I study him. For the first time, I see the difference between the brothers. I’d always seen Edward as a cold, hermit-like overlord from a distance. But I realize now I was just too far up Graham’s ass to notice that his older brother is a hard worker who wants to make something of himself.
“What’s the name?” I ask.
“SME n You.”
“Catchy.”
Edward smiles. It’s a real one—like he’s been waiting years for someone to get the joke.
“No games.”
“None.” He shakes his head. “Zach has drawn up the contract. He’ll be our legal buffer. Have your own counsel go through it if you wish.”
“A little presumptuous, isn’t it? How were you so sure I would come to see you, or take you up on your offer?”
Edward slides the envelope the last few inches until it touches my hand.
“Because,” he says, his gray eyes locking onto mine, “people who work as hard as you do don't let their careers die because of dumb nepo-babies who think they're beyond consequences.”