“No need,” Kane assured her. “I’m almost done with the installation. The app setup I can walk you through later by phone. Go ahead to work—I’ll lock the handle when I leave.”
Morgan hesitated, then decided to trust Kane’s clear competence. She scribbled her email address on a notepad for the app setup and hurried back to the office, arriving ten minutes past one.
Richard was waiting by her desk, arms crossed. “Nice of you to join us,” he said coolly. “Henderson’s called twice more. I need you to draft an apology letter explaining the invoice was sent in error.”
“But I didn’t send it,” Morgan protested. “Someone used my credentials to approve a fraudulent charge. Shouldn’t we be investigating that?”
“It’s being handled,” Richard said flatly. “Just write the letter. And make it convincing—we can’t afford to lose Henderson over a clerical error.”
Morgan wanted to argue further but recognized the steel in Richard’s tone. This wasn’t a discussion; it was an order.
“Fine,” she said, sitting down at her computer. “I’ll send one over.”
The rest of the afternoon crawled by in a haze of meetings and revisions. The Parkside presentation went well despite Richard’s pointed comment about “team members who prioritize personal errands over client needs”—a clear dig at her late return from lunch.
By five o’clock, Morgan was mentally and emotionally exhausted. The invoice issue, Richard’s bizarre behavior, the persistent worry about her apartment’s security—all of it swirled together into a toxic cocktail of stress.
As she gathered her things to leave for her testing appointment, Richard appeared in her doorway again.
“Early day?” he asked, his tone making it clear he disapproved.
“Medical appointment,” Morgan replied, keeping her voice neutral. “Scheduled weeks ago.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The Henderson situation isn’t resolved. I need you to call him personally before you leave.”
“I have to make this appointment,” Morgan said firmly, standing her ground. “It’s at 5:30 across town. I emailed him as you requested and I can call Henderson first thing tomorrow.”
For a moment, she thought Richard might forbid her to leave—an absurd thought, yet somehow plausible given his increasingly controlling behavior. But he merely shrugged, his expression hardening.
“Your choice. But when client relationships suffer, so do performance reviews.”
The veiled threat hung in the air between them. A week ago, it might have intimidated Morgan into canceling her appointment. But something had shifted inside her—a newfound confidence that she suspected had everything to do with Archer’s steadfast belief in her.
“I understand,” she said calmly. “I’ll call Henderson from the car and follow up properly tomorrow. Good day, Richard.”
She walked past him without waiting for a response, her heartbeat steady despite the confrontation. Whatever game Richard was playing with fraudulent invoices and her digital signature, she wouldn’t be manipulated into becoming some scapegoat.
As she headed to her appointment and made the uncomfortable call to Henderson, Morgan made a mental note to ask Archer about attorney recommendations. She needed professional advice about protecting herself, especially if someone at Vertex was committing fraud and trying to pin it on her.
But first, she had a medical test to complete and an evening with Archer to prepare for. Despite the day’s stresses, anticipation fluttered in her chest at the thought of seeing him again, of feeling his hands on her body, of deepening the connection that had become so vital to her in such a short time.
Whatever else happened, tonight she would be with the one person who made her feel truly safe, even with his face hidden from view. The irony wasn’t lost on her—finding security with a man whose identity remained a mystery.
Perhaps that was the true test of trust—believing in someone not because of what you could see, but because of what you could feel.
15
Archer
Archer was in the middle of a conference call when the text from Morgan came through. He glanced at his personal phone, his attention immediately diverted from the acquisition projections his CFO was presenting.
Do you know any good attorneys?
The unexpected question sent a spike of concern through him. Attorneys? What had happened since their morning conversation?
“Mr. Sullivan?” His CFO’s voice pulled him back to the conference call. “Your thoughts on the valuation adjustment?”
“The numbers look solid,” Archer replied automatically, his mind still on Morgan’s message. “Proceed with the revised offer.”
