My screen barely dims before a new notification flashes across it.
Internal Memo
Client Pitch Audit: Vanguard
Subject: Acquisition Summary
When I swipe it open, the blood drains from my face.
The attached report outlines the full acquisition history on the Vanguard deal. There it is in black and white:
Proposal submitted by Jackson Butler.
Strategic Rate Drop: Approved
Approved… byThatcher?
I blink. Re-read it. Then again. My stomach turns.
So that’s it?
He knew. He fucking knew.
Uncle’sblessing. He let Jackson undercut the deal. Let him screw The Laurel Group over. And now they’ve got me out here defending our brand like some idiot golden retriever while they feed the snake accounts under the table.
My hands tighten into fists, jaw locking so hard it aches.
Carl, I’m having a MOMENT here. I just landed the opportunity of a lifetime. Like HUGE. And I’m excited. And terrified. Mostly terrified. But also excited. You get it.
Congrats. That’s great.
I stare at the message. Dry. Cold. The emotional equivalent of a wet sock.
Wow, Mr. Enthusiasm. What’s with the buzzkill energy?
Nothing. Just dealing with something.
That’s vague. Cryptic. Suspicious. Are you in a basement somewhere rearranging your dolls?
No. Just not in the mood right now.
Well, aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine today? Since when did you become King of the Cold Shoulder?
Since five minutes ago. I just need to be in my own head right now.
The words come out more severe than I mean them to. But I don’t delete. Don’t soften. Not today.
Look, I get it. I do. If it’s about that girl let me do what I’m good at.
It’s not about the fucking girl!
Fine. Fuck. Okay.
Congrats on whatever it is. I just don’t have time for this right now.
We’ll talk later.
Three seconds. Five. Ten.
