Chapter 5
At the hotel desk, I handed over the bank card to pay for the room.
The clerk ran it, and her expression changed.
"Ma'am, there aren't enough funds."
That stopped me.
Six years of salary, 233 thousand dollars, and nothing left of it.
I asked the clerk to wait and logged in to my banking app to pull up the history.
The screen was solid with charges.
Tasting menus for two, ocean-view suites, jewelry counters, designer bags, tailored suits, one after the other.
The dates all sat inside the last three months.
That was after Vanessa came home.
Six years with James, and we never once had a real dinner out. He called restaurants a waste and had me cook.
Everything we saved had gone to Vanessa.
I closed the page and paid for the room with the relocation money Horizon Group had already sent.
I threw my luggage in the room, lay down on the bed, and looked at the ceiling.
My phone buzzed with a message from the HR manager.
[Charlotte, if you want this processed fast, come in tomorrow morning for Mr. Carter's signature. He has meetings in the afternoon.]
I sent back one word: [Okay.]
I turned off the light.
The streetlight came through the gap in the curtains and drew a line across the ceiling.
The way my grandma looked at me at the end came back again.
There was no blame in it and no bitterness.
It was worry.
She had been worried about me right up until she died.
I rolled over, pushed my face into the pillow, and held it there a long time until every tear went back down.
The next morning the lobby was busier than usual when I got in.
The guard stopped me. "Ms. Evans, you're not an employee anymore. You can't go up."
I said, "My paperwork isn't finished."
He called it in and then let me through.
The elevator opened on James' floor, and the hallway was full of people.
I pushed through and saw the conference room door standing open with a table of people inside.
James sat at the head, Vanessa beside him.
A project report was up on the main screen.
The project name was Riverside Bay Complex.
Something in my chest pulled tight.
Riverside Bay had taken me eight solid months. From site research to the design concept to the operations plan, every word of it was mine. When I sent James the final version the month before, all I got back was one word.
The report on the screen was credited to Vanessa Brooks.
He was presenting it to the room.
"This is the first major project Vanessa has led since she came back. The proposal is mature and I have a lot of confidence in it."
She gave a modest smile.
"It was the team. I only pulled it together."
Somebody in the room muttered.
"Three months in and she puts out something at this level. That's what studying overseas does."
I stood in the doorway with the box under my arm.
Anyone who caught my eye either looked away fast or gave me a look that asked why I was still there.
James didn't see me.
Vanessa did.
She gave me a small smile and turned back to presenting her own project.
I turned and walked out of the conference room.
At the end of the hallway, I opened my phone and found a folder.
It held every draft of the Riverside Bay proposal, and the earliest timestamp was eight months old.
I closed the folder and sent it to nobody.
It wasn't the time.
I waited outside his office for half an hour.
The meeting broke, and people filed out. Vanessa came last on his arm, and when she saw me, her step slowed.
She said, "Charlotte? You're still here?"
I held up the letter. "Waiting for Mr. Carter's signature."
He took it, leaned on the doorframe, and read it over.
"Charlotte, is this really settled? Once you walk out there's no coming back."
"It's settled."
He picked up a pen and signed.
The nib stopped a second before it touched the paper.
Then he finished the signature.
"Go on, then."
He handed the letter back the way a man hands back any routine document.
I took it and turned to go.
He called after me. "Wait. I looked at your salary. There really isn't much left in the account."
He leaned on the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, and something in his expression wasn't easy.
"Some of the charges were Vanessa's. She just got back and was short, so I covered her. I'll have finance make you whole."
Vanessa panicked beside him. "James, you spent that on me because you wanted to. Since when was it covering?"
He waved it away. "Enough. One thing at a time."
He looked at me. "Give me three days. The money will be in your account."
I didn't say I believed him, and I didn't say I didn't. I nodded and left.
Because in three days I would be on the other side of an ocean.
If the money never came, I could live with that.
My grandma was gone, I was on my own, and I didn't need much.
The moment I stepped out of the building, my phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
"Is this Ms. Charlotte Evans? I'm the assistant to Richard Vaughn, chairman of Horizon Group. He'd like a word before you fly. Is now all right?"
I told him it was.
The line transferred for three seconds, and then a steady man's voice came on.
"Ms. Evans, I've been looking forward to this. I have been through your portfolio three times. The name Lydia Wren has been going around our industry for years, and I had no idea it was you."
My heart jumped.
Lydia Wren was the pen name I started using in college. I entered a few design competitions under it and won. Once I was at Summit Holdings there was no energy left for competitions, but the earlier work stayed up on the industry platforms.
I had never told anyone about it.
Not even James.
I said, "You're being kind, Mr. Vaughn. Those were student exercises."
Richard laughed, "Exercises? Your work was selected for the Eastern Design Annual, and you call it an exercise? Ms. Evans, you underrate yourself.
"Come and do the work. Horizon Group does right by people with real ability."
I hung up, stood outside the Summit Holdings tower, and looked back at it.
Twenty-six stories of glass threw the sunlight back at me.
Six years.
I had burned six years in that building and come out with an empty bank card and a floor full of IOUs.
I was done with it.