He Called Me a Fool for Working Hard, Then Cried When the Fool Left Chapter 05

He Called Me a Fool for Working Hard, Then Cried When the Fool Left Chapter 05

The whole Engineering department was in chaos. 

I walked past and saw the door half open. 

People running around. Phones ringing nonstop. 

Craig sat at his computer, chain–smoking. The floor around 

his chair was covered in crumpled papers and coffee stains. 

At two in the afternoon, the boss called an emergency 

meeting. 

All the senior leadership showed up. 

A little after three, I went to the break lounge for water. Two 

marketing people were talking. 

“I heard the client is sending a legal notice. They’re 

demanding damages.” 

“Ten million project. Something like this happens, the boss 

has to hold someone accountable.” 

“Marcus’s in trouble.” 

“I don’t know. He’s been here fifteen years. He’s got 

connections.” 

I went back to my desk with my water and kept working on 

spreadsheets. 

At four thirty, near the end of the day, I started packing up. 

My desk phone rang. It was Richard. 

“Elizabeth. Come to my office.” 

Richard was in his fifties. He had gray hair, black–rimmed 

glasses, and a friendly face. 

“Sit down.” 

He pointed to the chair across from him. 

I sat. 

He didn’t rush. He looked at me first. 

Then he closed the folder on his desk and pushed it to the 

side. 

“Elizabeth, how long have you been here?” 

“Two months.” 

“Two months.” He nodded. “I heard you studied accounting in 

college?” 

“Yes, sir. Accounting major.” 

“And you taught yourself to code?” 

“It was a hobby. I learned on my own in college.” 

Richard let out a low hum. He pulled my resume out of his 

drawer and flipped through it. 

Then he put it down and looked at me. His voice was calm. “Elizabeth. That Engineering project. How much of it did you 

actually do?” 

I paused. 

“I helped out a little. Nothing major.” 

“Nothing major?” Richard smiled. “Elizabeth, I’ve been here twenty years. You don’t need to dance around things with 

me.” 

“Denise showed me that little script you wrote. It’s good.” 

“I may not be a programmer, but I know quality work when I 

see it.” 

I didn’t respond. 

He leaned back in his chair. “The leadership meeting this afternoon. The boss is furious.” 

“The client’s production line is still down. Losses are climbing.” 

“Engineering has been running diagnostics since morning. They still can’t even figure out where the problem is.” 

He paused and looked at me. 

“In the meeting, someone suggested bringing in the woman from Finance who knows how to code.” 

I kept my face neutral and waited. 

“Manager Harlow shut it down immediately.” 

“He said you had nothing to do with the core of the project. Said you just ran errands and did basic tasks. That you’re not even formally trained. Bringing you in wouldn’t help.” 

Richard picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. He looked at 

me over the rim. 

I still didn’t say anything. 

He put the cup down. “When the project finished and the 

two–million–dollar bonus went out, the boss specifically 

asked Marcus if he’d missed anyone.” 

“Marcus said he’d paid everyone who deserved it.” 

Richard smiled again. 

“But he didn’t pay you a cent, did he?” 

I nodded. “No.” 

“Marcus swore up and down to the boss that he’d treated 

everyone fairly.” 

“Now the project is failing. If he brought you in to fix it, he’d 

have to admit he was lying.” 

I’d already figured all of this out. 

From the moment Marcus cursed me out in that elevator, I knew exactly how he’d handle it. 

Guys like him cared about their pride more than anything. 

Richard saw I wasn’t saying much. He leaned forward. “Let me be honest with you, Elizabeth.” 

“This is a big deal. The client has already said they’ll pursue legal action if the problem isn’t fixed within twenty–four hours.” 

“Losing money is one thing. Losing reputation is another.” 

“You know as well as I do that sixty percent of our business depends on our reputation in this industry. If news of these spreads, we won’t win another competitive bid for years.” 

He leaned in closer. Dropped his voice. 

“Elizabeth, tell me honestly. If I put you on this, what are the chances you find the problem?” 

I didn’t answer right away. 

It was an opportunity. But it was also a huge risk. 

I thought for a long moment. Then I gave him a conservative 

number. 

“Sixty percent.” 

Richard looked at me. His expression didn’t change. 

He nodded. “Alright. I understand.” 

“It’s five o’clock. Go home.”