I slid the Michelin-starred Le Bernardin reservation confirmation onto my desk, sealing seven signed contracts.
My phone vibrated, lighting up with a company-wide email copied to two hundred employees.
"Effective immediately, Elena Marsh is transferring to Customer Support, reporting to Priya."
I gripped the frayed edges of my phone case. The plastic dug into my palm. Five years. I had bled for this firm, rewriting Grant's botched proposal from a hospital bed the night before my appendectomy, securing a two-hundred-million-dollar account while nurses prepped me for surgery.
Now, a two-sentence email erased it all.
The frosted glass door swung inward.
Grant strode into my office, adjusting his tailored navy suit jacket. Priya trailed right behind him, a smirk playing on her glossed lips.
She tossed a leather key fob onto my desk. It landed next to the Le Bernardin confirmation.
"Thanks for keeping her warm, Elena," Priya said.
The silver Audi logo gleamed under the fluorescent lights. That car was my bonus for landing my first eight-figure deal.
"The company vehicle is reassigned to the new Director of Sales," Grant stated, not quite meeting my eyes. "Priya needs it for client dinners."
"Client dinners?" I asked, keeping my voice level. "She has not closed a single account since you hired her six months ago."
"She excels at relationship management," Grant replied. "Something you have been lacking lately."
"I just locked down seven accounts this morning." I pointed to the stack of papers under the restaurant confirmation. "The ink is barely dry. I spent three weeks negotiating that permanent table at Le Bernardin. The executives from Vanguard expect me there tonight."
"Priya will take them," Grant said.
"You are handing my entire portfolio to her?" I asked, gesturing at the stack of fresh contracts. "Vanguard, Meridian, all of it?"
"Every account," Grant said. He picked up the leather key fob and pressed it into Priya's open palm. "Effective today."
Priya closed her fingers around the keys and smiled. She tapped one manicured nail against the Le Bernardin confirmation. "I'll take this too. The Vanguard executives won't know the difference."
I looked at the two of them standing in my office, at the silver Audi logo glinting between them, at five years of my life reduced to a key fob changing hands. I did not raise my voice. I did not reach for the papers.
"Then I have nothing left to do here," I said.
I picked up my phone, slid it into my coat pocket, and walked past them toward the door. Behind me, I heard Grant exhale, relieved, as if he had won something. He had no idea that the only thing he had just secured was the beginning of his own collapse.
Forty-eight hours. That was all I needed.
