Second-Place Sullivan to the core, I didn’t even realize that I’d already won.
“I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not,” Stew admits. “You’re just so damn good at your job no one cares who the hell you’re sleeping with, kiddo.”
“Every girl’s dream,” I say, wryly, and then with a deep breath and a sharp exhale, I look to him. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
Stew chuckles. “That’s the spirit.”
Nancy, the woman who I met a couple of weeks ago, is there to open the door and she gives me a firm nod of acknowledgment and waits for me to respond. I do, smiling to let her know I appreciate it and straighten my suit jacket before another nod signals to her to open the door.
Hannah Vinch is there at the head of the table, already standing and moving around it to shake my hand, two rows of men, mostly white and aging, line both sides of the longmahogany boardroom table, shined to a glossy finish. None of them look happy to be here.
I can relate.
“Francesca, I’m so glad you were able to join us today,” Hannah says, reaching out a hand for me to shake and I do.
“It’s the least I could do for the organization that gave me such an incredible opportunity to build my career for the past two years,” I say, neutrally.
A tight smile is her only response and she gestures toward the chair at the foot of the table, directly across from hers.
“Can I get you anything?” Nancy asks from behind me.
When I turn to face her, I whisper “Vodka” under my breath, and she winks before I say “Just water, thank you.”
I take my seat, water glass placed in front of me, and Nancy closes the door after Stew moves into the room and sits in the empty chair beside Mrs Vinch.
“I’m sure you know why we’ve called this meeting,” she begins, and I have to immediately interrupt her.
“I’m sorry, but no, I don’t.”
There’s a ripple of disgruntled murmuring from the men.
“Didn’t Stew tell you?” Hannah says, looking to her left with a questioning brow.
“It wasn’t my place,” Stew says, simply, sitting back in his chair and crossing his hands over his protruding belly. “I’m technically still on leave.”
“Ah,” Hannah pivots smoothly, though I know her voice well enough now to know she’s ruffled. “Then, I suppose the honor falls to me.”
“Honor?” I ask.
“We held a board meeting last night and this body has determined it’s within the organization’s best interest, both in the short and long term, to offer you your job back.”
Exactly what I expected. “Like I said earlier, Mrs Vinch, whileI’m truly grateful for the opportunity Stew gave me when he brought me on,” – I’m not about to give her any credit in this moment – “at this time, I have to respectfully decline.”
“I told you she wouldn’t take it,” Stew says, leaning fully back into his chair. I half expect him to prop his feet up on the boardroom table.
“Can I ask why not?” Hannah says.
“I’ve been offered another job,” I say, simply, but make sure to pluck at the wrists of my suit jacket. Pinstripes.
Another wave of discontent flows through the men between us.
“Another job?” she prompts me.
“Yes.”
She’s no fool. She didn’t get to where she is now through anything other than sheer grit and determination. Just like I did. She knowsexactlywho has offered me a job. “We’d very much like a chance to counter that offer, if you’d be so inclined.”
