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I cut him off and skewer the young woman with a look. “Furthermore, do you make it a habit to speak rudely about people, questioning their integrity and ability based on a dress size?”

Her face turns bright red, her eyes wide and fearful.

“If I hear anything like this again from either one of you, even a whisper of offensiveness, both of you will be out, triggering a hostile work environment clause that will make sure your reputations follow you.”

I don’t give them the satisfaction of a response. I turn on my heel, ignoring the looks from those close by who probably heard the entire conversation.

Good, except that Isabella was apparently one of the people listening.

She stands still, her bag clutched in white-knuckled hands, her face pale. She must have heard it all.

I expect to see annoyance in her expression as I approach her. I expect her to snap at me, saying she can handle her own battles, that she doesn’t need the Big Bad Wolf to play her knight in shining armor.

But that isn’t what happens.

“You didn’t have to—” she starts, stops, then swallows.

The words catch me off guard. I notice the way her eyes search mine, and that dangerous feeling comes roaring back twice as loud.

“They’re wrong,” I say.

“I know,” she replies, the wry, fleeting smile that follows telling me her confidence remains undiminished. “But it was nice to hear you say it.”

I almost reach out and take her hand before I catch myself. It seemed the natural thing to do, but I settle for a sharp nod instead, the COO mask sliding back into place.

“Let’s go. We still have a lot of work to do.”

I told those two I’d give them a warning. I meant it when I said it.

Then, in the car back to headquarters, I watch Isabella stare out the window with her hands knotted in her lap, and I change my mind.

The communications department takes up most of the eleventh floor. When I step off the elevator, the noise dies in waves, desk by desk, until the only sound is a phone ringing somewhere that nobody dares to answer.

I don’t raise my voice. I never have to.

“Mr. Daley. Ms. Ross.” The two staffers from the studio go white. “Stand up.”

They stand. Sixty people watch them do it.

“This morning, these two decided that the woman responsible for keeping this company alive was worth less than the people she’s working to save because of her dress size.” I let that sit. “As of now, they are on paid administrative leave pending a full HR investigation. Security will walk them out.”

Two guards step forward. Nobody breathes.

“Let me be very clear, so there’s no confusion later.” I look around the floor, and every single person finds something urgent to do with their eyes. “Anyone in this building who speaks about Ms. Medina’s body, her character, or her competence will be walked out the same way. There will be no warning. Not from me, and not from anyone else.”

I turn around and get back on the elevator.

By the time the doors open on the executive floor, Grace is already staring at her phone with her mouth open. By lunch, the entire building knows. By three o’clock, someone in legal has forwarded the story to someone at another firm, and Aaron calls to ask whether I’ve lost my mind.

“Probably,” I tell him, and hang up.

15

ISABELLA

The glow from my laptop, showing the spreadsheet of numbers, is the only light in the office, and damn, are those numbers beautiful.

“We did it. We did it!” I squeal to myself.