He Chose His Ex, So I Chose My Empire novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Black Square

On vote day the donor's representative breaks the tie for Sabrina from behind a dark screen; Laurel resigns in the middle of the floor, her team stands up with her, and Hugh is waiting in the lobby with roses.

Sabrina never took the photo down.

Thirty-one days later, it was still pinned at the top of the staff channel when we walked into the boardroom to pitch.

Eight board members sat along the walnut table.

At the far end, the big screen showed a black square.

White letters in the corner said "SC Representative."

Camera off. Microphone muted.

"Stratton Capital's sitting in remotely," the COO said. "Standard for a gift this size."

I wondered which of Hugh's lawyers was behind it.

I wondered if he was eating lunch.

I went first.

I didn't use slides.

I put a single brass key on the walnut, hanging from a faded blue ribbon.

"I got this key when I was eighteen," I said. "Four months after I aged out of foster care. Four months of sleeping in a Honda. Every kid in this plan gets one in their first week, with a year of rent behind it and an adult who answers the phone."

One of the board members, an older woman in a grey suit, wrote something down and underlined it.

Sabrina went second.

Her slides were gorgeous.

A tower of glass and pale wood, forty floors, a donor's name on every one of them.

"Legacy Tower," she said softly. "A place people will photograph."

Two of the men at the table nodded.

Then they sent us out.

We waited on the open floor while the glass wall of the boardroom went frosted.

Jo stood next to me and ate almonds so loudly it was almost a statement.

"If they pick the selfie tower, I'm moving to Portland," she said.

"You hate Portland."

"I'll hate it out of spite."

Forty minutes.

Then the COO came out with his half-moon glasses in his hand.

He didn't bother with a room.

He stood in the middle of the floor where everyone could hear.

"It was very close," he said. "Four votes to four. The donor's representative broke the tie."

He turned toward Sabrina's desk and smiled.

"Congratulations, Sabrina. Legacy Tower goes ahead."

Her side of the floor erupted.

Someone popped a cork that had obviously been chilling all morning.

I picked up my blazer and walked toward the elevators.

Sabrina found me there, and said what she said, and I left her standing with it.

I got as far as the stairwell door.

My hand was on the bar.

Then I thought about my six people sitting at their desks, waiting to be told whose they were now.

I let go of the door.

I walked back out onto the open floor.

The champagne was going around in paper cups.

The COO was laughing at something with two of the board members by the window.

"Excuse me," I said.

I didn't raise my voice.

I didn't have to.

People had been waiting all month to watch me react, and they went quiet to enjoy it.

"I resign," I said. "Effective today."

The COO blinked.

"Laurel, let's not be emotional. Take the weekend."

"I don't need the weekend. I need my team's names."

"Your team transfers to Sabrina on Monday. That was always the plan."

"It was your plan."

I turned around to face my side of the floor.

Six desks.

Six people who had stayed late with me for four years without being asked.

"I'm starting something," I said. "I don't have an office yet. I don't have a payroll yet. I'm going to do the key plan anyway, outside this building, and I'm going to do it bigger."

Somebody on Sabrina's side snorted.

"With what? His money?"

There was laughter.

A lot of it.

"Not one cent of his," I said. "Anyone who wants to come, come. Anyone who wants to stay, stay, and I'll write you the best reference of your life."

Sabrina had come back to the edge of her crowd.

She held a paper cup in both hands.

"That's sweet," she said. "Good luck, Laurel."

It was so quiet I heard the air conditioning.

Then a chair scraped.

Jo stood up.

She picked up her cat calendar, her cardigan and her almonds, and walked over to stand beside me.

"Boss," she said. "Wherever this is, does it have snacks?"

"It has you."

"So, yes."

The older grant writer stood next.

Then the young analyst, who looked like he might throw up.

Then one of the program managers, a woman who had worked under me for three years and never once said what she thought in a meeting.

"I'm in," she said to the whole room.

Four of six.

The other two sat very still and looked at their keyboards.

I nodded to them.

No hard feelings.

They had rent.

We walked to the elevator in a little line, carrying our boxes past the champagne.

Nobody on the other side clapped.

Nobody laughed this time either.

In the elevator, Jo bumped my shoulder with hers.

"For the record," she said, "I have no idea what we just did."

"We left."

"Love that for us. Where are we going?"

The doors opened on the lobby.

The answer was standing on the marble in front of the security desk.

My husband was in a dark suit with a dozen white roses in his arms.

He'd come straight from somewhere important.

His car was double-parked outside with the hazards on.

"Laurel," Hugh said. "I came as soon as I heard. Let me take you home."

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