Chapter 2

I held my phone and said nothing right away.

It was loud on Jamie's end. He was probably still in the cabin before the plane taxied.

His voice shook. "Charlotte, I don't dare delete anything, but Mr. Grant said this laptop is now under the project team's unified management and told me to wipe all your personal files."

I watched the plane outside the floor-to-ceiling window slowly turn. "What did he say exactly?"

Jamie paused for a few seconds, then said, "He said it's Sophie's first time presenting, and your annotations can't be allowed to affect her thinking. And he said..."

"What?"

"That you're used to holding on too tightly to the credit, and you should learn teamwork."

I gave a laugh, not because it was funny, but because a shard of ice was stuck in my throat.

"Jamie, don't shut the laptop down, and don't connect to the internet to delete anything. Remember this. Whoever wants you to touch my stuff, have them send it as a written email," I said.

Jamie lowered his voice. "Charlotte, I don't think I can hold onto it much longer."

Suddenly, I heard Edward's voice come through the phone. "Jamie, give me the phone."

A few seconds later, he was on the line. "Charlotte, are you hassling the new guy again?"

I didn't bother explaining. "There are private files on that laptop. You have no right to make anyone delete them."

His voice was steady as always. "Project files belong to the company, not to you. If you cooperate, nobody will touch your personal stuff."

"Then what are you having Jamie delete?" I pressed.

He paused a moment, then said, "It's organizing, not deleting."

I slumped onto an airport bench, staring at the unopened email. "Edward, you call having Sophie present my proposal organizing?"

He let out a sigh like I was being unreasonable yet again. "Charlotte, I know you're upset. But Sophie clicks with people. She's got warmth, not like you. You're too blunt."

Sophie's voice came from his side. "Edward, stop blaming Charlotte. She cares a lot about this project."

Edward acknowledged her, then spoke in a lower tone. "Hear that? Sophie's still taking your side."

I clenched the phone tighter. "Taking my side? Then why does she wear my bracelet?"

There was a beat of silence.

Sophie made an awkward little exclamation. "Charlotte, sorry. I didn't know it was yours. Edward said I looked too plain today, so he lent it to me to help me stand out. I'll give it back once we land."

Edward's voice took on a cold edge. "It's merely a bracelet. It's not like you haven't worn it before."

I stared down at my wrist. It was bare.

Last year on my birthday, when he clipped that bracelet on, he whispered, "Charlotte, you don't have to dress like you're ready for battle every day."

For a while, I honestly believed he understood that I wasn't born tough and cold. I'd never had anyone to stand with me before.

And now, he'd lent that little bit of backup to Sophie and made it my fault for caring.

The flight attendant's announcement to turn off devices echoed down the corridors.

Edward said, "Before we land in Valdoria tomorrow night, clean up the backup quotes and send them over. Don't let your personal feelings mess with your work. Once the project's done, you'll get your share."

The call was cut off.

My share? It sounded like tossing an extra scoop of leftovers into a dog's bowl.

I opened the headquarters email. The page loaded painfully slowly; the airport WiFi was laggy as always.

The first line popped up. [Ms. Reed, the original Valdoria Initiative proposal has entered the Global Creative Committee review process. Please confirm by 22:00 Caltham time tonight whether you will personally participate in the final defense.]

I scrolled further down.

The next line hadn't finished loading before Mom called.

I answered. Her first words were, "Charlotte, have you landed in Valdoria yet? Your dad told the neighbors that our daughter is about to sign a big contract abroad."

My throat bobbed. "Flight got delayed."

"Did you eat? I packed the beef jerky in your suitcase. Don't drink coffee on an empty stomach. No one will take care of your stomach if it hurts," she said.

I looked at the suitcase by my feet.

The beef jerky was there, but the laptop wasn't, the project wasn't, and Edward wasn't, either.

"I brought it," I replied.

Mom sounded relieved. "That's good. Is Edward with you? I know both of you are busy, but you can't keep putting off the engagement. Don't keep him waiting."

I stood there watching people coming and going at the gate.

Edward had said he'd give me a public answer.

My mom thought that meant engagement, and so did I.

"Mom, I need to take care of something first," I said.

As soon as I hung up, Linda from admin called.

She cut right to the chase. "Charlotte, what are you making a scene about at the airport? Mr. Grant messaged that you refused to cooperate with the Valdoria Initiative travel plan."

I said, "My boarding pass got changed."

Linda sounded annoyed. "Resources are tight. The right person gets sent. It's your job to do proposals. Don't keep whining about how hard you work."

"I'm not whining."

"Okay. Tonight's press conference is being streamed to HQ, so repost the company update. The caption: Congratulations to Sophie for becoming lead on the Valdoria Initiative."

I watched my phone as the email finally finished loading.

Down at the bottom, in glaring red letters, read: [If the original proposer is absent, overseas headquarters will grant the presentation rights to the current lead by default.]

Linda was still talking. "Heard me? Don't mess up the big picture because you don't like your seat."

I asked, "What if I don't repost?"

She chuckled lightly. "Charlotte, your contract's up next month, isn't it?"

But it pressed right on the sore spot.

I worked at this company for seven years, climbing from assistant to project manager. I never took my owed leave and spent every late night here.

They knew I was reluctant to quit, so they kept telling me to be reasonable.

I left the call and opened the company group chat.

The press conference announcement was already pinned at the top.

At the center of the poster, Sophie stood beside Edward.

The headline read: "Rising Lead Sophie Quinn, Leading the Team to Valdoria."

I stared at the poster, my finger hovering over the share button.

Suddenly, a video invite from headquarters popped up. The countdown began: ten, nine, eight...

Before I could answer, a message from Edward popped up. [Charlotte, don't answer the call from headquarters. Wait till I land, and I'll handle it.]

The countdown froze at three seconds.

I stared at those words, my finger hanging in the air over the green button.