Terrence sputters but pulls back his shoulders and finds his next gear. “Well, maybe I should have my team take another look. I mean, after all, your sales practices have been highly successful. Perhaps you had some unsanctioned help?”
The anger inside me threatens to turn into mutinous tears. I grind my heels into my shoes. The pain biting at my ankles serves to focus me. I will speak truth to this man. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? If I caused waves, you had this over me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I am sure Phil will be understanding when you tender your resignation to spend time with your family. We can just let your little cheat be our little secret. Because, Meredith, the business of Garman Straub is mutual funds.”
“Another thing you twisted out of your subpar lending arrangements—more favorable placement of your precious funds.”
His mouth slackens for a brief moment, but then he recovers. “Your fleeting success is over. We need to get back to the work at hand.”
“That’s the thing. I’m tired of secrets, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, but we know you. Once Phil finds out what you’ve been up to, there’s no future for you. I mean the things you didn’t tell the board. Tut, tut, Meredith.” He shakes his head like I’m a puppy who messed the carpet. “Because in the end, it’s men like me that ensure the foundations of this company are not eroded by the next cheap, shiny thing.”
My breathing has accelerated, and a nerve burns between my shoulder blades, but I refuse to fidget. I’ve never been spoken to thisway. Perhaps I’ve been lucky to have mentors who’ve shielded me. Sure, I’ve been on the receiving end of opportunities that evaporated in favor of guys in clubhouse networks who have known each other for ages. I’ve been asked to get the coffee at meetings I presided over. I’ve been followed into bathrooms so that a male colleague can get his last word, as well as his last lecture. I’ve been propositioned while laying out a business opportunity. But each time, I considered my long game. This time, I’m playing to win.
Terrence continues with self-assurance born of privilege. “Phil understands how this business runs. He’s been my mentor since my days at Villanova. We are both Tau Zetas—a decade apart, but fraternity brothers with vision. He knows I’m next in line. He needs me to carry his legacy.”
Terrence turns his back to me and stalks toward Phil’s door.
Terrence appears clear on his future and my demise. He may be right; I may not survive this. But I’m not going down without a fight. I know I’m good for this firm, and I’m great at what I do. The steady bass line of the Survivor anthem breaks through the static and pulses through me, just a woman and her will to survive.
58
THE SOLID OAK DOOR OPENSand Phil strides out. “Good morning, Terrence and Meredith, I trust you both had a good weekend. Are we ready to impress the trustees?”
Terrence picks invisible lint from the sleeve of his dark suit jacket. “I came by to inquire if there was anything you needed.”
“Appreciate that.” Phil smiles.
“But now, I’m going to need to bring you up to speed.” Terrence sighs almost theatrically. “There’s been some unethical conduct—I might even say criminal—I’ve been made aware of. I’m sorry to say, but Meredith has gotten herself mixed up in some very troubling behaviors.”
Phil’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t speak, while I simply can’t. Although nothing that Terrence is saying is any surprise at this point, the surreal shock in hearing his condemnation in the executive suite, in front of our CEO, skewers a rod straight through me.
Terrence spins toward me. “She has obtained confidential sales data to boost the success of her ETFs. Simply unconscionable.”
Phil finds his voice. “Terrence, that is quite an accusation, and right before our board meeting. I don’t understand. Meredith was the one to bring the data to our attention. I can hardly believe she’s behind it.”
“Oh, she’s crafty. As you know, I’ve had Candace track her movements with Betsey, and I have proof of her accepting the data.” Terrence shakes his head, stepping closer to Phil.
Phil begins to talk, but Terrence continues. “We might never know how she was able to convince Meymack to comply with her fraud, but we can assume it has to do with how she’s been able to rise so quickly in this industry.”
Something cracks deep within me. I thought I could sit by and watch this play out, that Terrence would say more to incriminate himself. But I want to slap the smugness from his face.
“At least I wasn’t idiotic enough to pay all the minions using the same account, traced right back to the source.” My lip curls into a sneer of its own accord.
Terrence also appears like he wants to hit someone. Probably me.
Phil must sense this as he steps forward. “We need to deal with this right now.” He turns slightly and extends his hand toward his door as a tall, trim Black man strides from his office. “Terrence, have you met Gaven Newal? He is the SEC Enforcement Division chief. Gaven, this is my chief of compliance, whom I’ve just finished telling you all about.”
59
THE CONFERENCE ROOM IS DEAD QUIET,the kind of silence that builds like layers of ice before the roof caves in. I take a deep breath, will my nerves to settle, and then place the thumb drive on the polished mahogany table. Twelve pairs of eyes dart down and then back up to me. At the head of the table, Phil—the presiding chair and, for the moment, my only ally—looks at me with an intensity that makes my throat ache. But the board deserves the truth, no matter how tainted it is.
“This... this won’t be easy to hear,” I begin, pushing back a wave of nausea. I can already feel my carefully rehearsed words slipping away, scattering like marbles spilled across a wooden floor. These men and one woman hold the future of the firm and my career in their hands. I force myself to continue. “The funds I manage have been used for unsanctioned securities lending and in at least one case, subpar rates given to benefit the mutual funds.”
Clearing of throats, narrowed eyes, a few furrowed brows meet my swinging gaze.
“This happened through our custodian?” asks Barry Eiten, the board member who, at our last two encounters, treated me as if I were an annoying intern. He’s a year away from the mandatory retirement age of seventy-five and seems to take it out on those younger for pushing him toward the end of the plank.
