He looks away again.
“I’m… sorry?” he says, his voice lifting at the end.
I can’t. I turn and keep walking, but Chase trails after me.
“You said it’ll be fine,” he says. “Right?”
“You should have talked to me.”
“And said what?”
“I don’t know, Chase. Maybe, ‘I’m panicking. I’m second-guessing this. I’m about to go tell HR and let them decide what happens to you.’”
Chase doesn’t even try to answer.
“Do you have any idea what this could cost me?” I ask. “Because of you?”
Chase’s mouth opens silently, his shoulders shrugging once as we reach the conference room.
The realization punches me in the chest. “You don’t care, do you?” I whisper.
“Of course I care!”
“You think I’ll be fine no matter what.”
“You already have millions—” he starts, then sees my face and cuts himself off.
“We’re done,” I say.
I walk into the conference room reserved for my “support” and close the door before the HR rep can see Chase standing there, mouth agape. A scream claws at my throat, but I swallow it. I’ll have plenty of time to lose it if I walk out of here unemployed and scrambling for jobs that will never match my current pay.
“Hi, Mr. Pierce.” Her smile is unnervingly wide, like we’re about to share a pleasant cup of coffee instead of dismantle my career. “Would you like some water or anything?”
“Hi. Ash, please. I’m fine, thank you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Kimberly.”
“Nice to meet you.” I force a polite nod. “How long have you been at Query?”
I don’t know why that’s my first question. She looks to be in her sixties, probably newer than me. Gray hair isn’t really part of the Query aesthetic.
“Two months,” Kimberly says, a slight furrow forming between her eyebrows.
Oops. I was right, exactly the wrong way to kick this off.
“Welcome,” I say quickly. “Glad you’re here. I know this won’t be a pleasant conversation, but I understand you’re just doing your job. So don’t hold back.”
Kimberly’s expression remains unreadably fixed. “If you want honesty, Mr. Pierce, I’m notjustdoing my job. I’m addressing a very serious concern.”
“Right. I mean…”
What did I mean? That this is all Chase’s fault? That he traded my career for his?
“Please, have a seat.” She gestures to the chairs across the table.
“I know it was wrong, and I’m prepared to accept the consequences.” My body folds into the chair before I’ve decided to sit.
“Whatwas wrong, Mr. Pierce?”
