The Prenup Evaluation That Ended Five Years Chapter 03

By six o’clock, the rain was coming down hard.

I stood outside the building with an umbrella, waiting.

Wind whipped the rain sideways, soaking my pants. My shoes sat in a puddle, and the cold had worked its way up to my bones.

Five years ago, when Gavin couldn’t make rent, I’d stood in rain just like this, handing out flyers beside him.

Now he was Mr. Mercer, and I was the documentation assistant he could call in or cut loose whenever it suited him.

A black car pulled up at the curb. The window came down, and Elliot was holding out a fresh towel.

“Get in.”

I took the towel and wiped my face.

“Give me three days. I need to sort some things out first.”

Elliot studied my face, which was pale and probably a wreck, and didn’t push.

“I’ll be here. Call me if you need anything.”

The window slid up, and the car disappeared into the rain. He didn’t ask for more. He never did.

I headed back upstairs. I’d left my prescription antacids in the office.

The elevator doors opened, and Sloane was standing right there with three security guards flanking her.

“That’s her.”

Sloane pointed straight at me.

“The corporate seal, the one we need for the compliance filing, is missing.”

“Security cameras show she was the last one near the filing cabinet before she left for the day.”

The head of security stepped forward, blocking my way.

“Miss Vale, please cooperate with the investigation.”

“According to Ms. Barrett, this qualifies as corporate theft. Given what that seal is worth, it’s enough for a criminal case.”

Fast footsteps came from the far end of the hall.

Gavin rounded the corner. His eyes went to Sloane first, then to me.

He grabbed my hand.

“Tessa, I get it. You’re upset about the engagement.”

“Just hand back the seal. Stop making this worse than it has to be.”

“Write out an apology, and I’ll make sure, as the CEO of this company, that none of this goes to the police.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Stealing a corporate seal is a crime. One record, and your entire career is over.”

He snatched a clipboard and pen from the guard and shoved them into my hand.

I pulled out my phone and opened my photos.

Nine photos, taken rapid-fire right before I’d locked the cabinet and left for the day.

The last one was a close-up of the locked cabinet door. The timestamp sat right there in the corner, clear as day.

I held the phone up in front of the company’s legal counsel.

“Take a good look. Who was the last person to open that cabinet with a key?”

He looked. Cleared his throat. Stepped aside.

I pressed the clipboard flat against the wall and picked up the pen.

The pen scratched across the page.

At the top, I wrote: Notice of Resignation.

Below that, I wrote out my voluntary resignation, effective immediately. I forfeit my final paycheck and every project commission they owed me.

I peeled the paper off the clipboard and slapped it against Gavin’s chest.

“I don’t need your guarantee. I’m done.”

Gavin crumpled the edges of the paper in his fist. His face went hard.

“You really think this is how you get me to choose? Torch your own career to make a point?”

“Walk out that door, and don’t come crawling back.”

“You think anyone in this industry is going to hire a designer with theft on her name? Good luck with that.”