I'd poured three months of my life into that project, pulling all-nighters to revise the proposal again and again, going back and forth with the partners through more than a dozen rounds.
After all that, I'd finally pulled the dinner together, gotten the contracts signed, and brought the company tens of millions in profit.
And now, before I'd seen a single dollar of my commission, I was supposed to eat $46,000 out of my own pocket?
Who treated people like this?
Tyler must have sensed the anger simmering under my skin, because he changed his tune again.
"All right, Ian, I know you did the company a real service this time. Tell you what—I'll think the matter over some more, and once I've made up my mind, I'll let you know."
On any other day, I could have let him take his time.
But yesterday the doctor had told me my father's condition couldn't wait. He needed surgery as soon as possible, before the cancer spread.
I hesitated for a moment, then couldn't hold it back any longer.
"Mr. Gray, I'll be straight with you. My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer yesterday. He's waiting on the money for surgery."
"I've been on this project for months, drawing nothing but a base salary the whole time. And to host that dinner, I sank every bit of my own savings into it."
"If this $50,000 doesn't get reimbursed soon, I won't be able to scrape together my dad's surgery costs."
Something shifted in Tyler's expression as he listened. "Your father's sick?"
I nodded. "Yes. They just found it yesterday."
"So this reimbursement really is urgent for me. I'm hoping you can show a little understanding, Mr. Gray."
The office went quiet for a few seconds.
Tyler tapped two fingers lightly against the desk, then spoke at his own unhurried pace.
"Ian, I'm truly sorry to hear about your father, I really am. But one thing at a time. The reimbursement still has to wait. Let me give it some careful thought."
I said nothing.
He cleared his throat a couple of times and went on.
"Don't worry. The company values your abilities. We won't shortchange you."
"Here's what we'll do—I'll give you a final answer at the staff meeting next Monday."
Seeing that Tyler had taken it that far, all I could do was nod.
"Fine. I'll wait for your word on Monday, then."
I left Tyler's office and went straight back to my desk.
I'd barely sat down when a voice drifted over from behind me, dripping with mockery.
"Well, well, if it isn't our big hero, back from his triumph."
I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Liam Gray.
Tyler's own nephew. He'd joined the company a year after me, with middling numbers to show for it, yet he'd ridden his family ties all the way up to sales manager.
Those seven big clients had originally been his to handle. He'd worked them for three months and hadn't landed a single one.
This time I'd closed every one of those contracts over a single dinner, and he took it as a loss of face. He'd had it out for me for a while.
I didn't answer, just lowered my head and opened my laptop.
But Liam wouldn't let it drop. Hands shoved in his pockets, he sauntered over to my desk and deliberately raised his voice.
"You know, when I passed by Mr. Gray's office just now, I heard that certain people can't even get a reimbursement form signed."
"And here I thought you were some big shot. Turns out you're just another guy bleeding the company dry. Fifty grand on one dinner—tsk, tsk, tsk. Ian, you've sure got the nerve to eat like that."
I lifted my head and looked at him.
Last month, to close an order worth only $200,000 in profit, he'd spent a hundred grand wining and dining the client.
And Stella had signed off on his reimbursement without a word, while Tyler praised him in front of everyone for a job well done.
When it came to me, it was nothing but stonewalling and "careful consideration."
All that talk about company policy. At the end of it, the real reason was simple—I wasn't one of their relatives.
Hearing Liam announce that I couldn't even get a reimbursement form approved, my coworkers turned to look at me one after another, their eyes full of amusement.
