Chapter 2

The next day, Harlow submitted her plan.

It was a handful of vague PowerPoint slides. No contacts, no deadlines, no actionable steps.

I sent it back for her to redo.

Harlow's eyes welled up with tears.

Gunnar stepped in. "Harlow's a top university grad. She's got the ability. She's new to the job and needs time to grow."

When it came time for a warehouse inventory check, I asked Harlow to do it so she could get familiar with the business.

Harlow insisted it wasn't her job.

She claimed her strengths were in strategy, not grunt work, and said these chores were a waste of her time.

"In a startup, there's no such thing as 'important' or 'menial' tasks," I said coldly. "Account checks and inventory are directly tied to our revenue. No room for being picky."

This company was built from nothing.

I'd personally overseen every step along the way.

Back then, to ensure product quality, I slept on the production line for a month straight.

Harlow pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy.

Gunnar stepped in again. "Harlow's good at planning and coordination. That's what she studied in college. Let someone else handle the inventory check. No need to waste her talent."

"She's your hire. You deal with her." I shot Gunnar and Harlow a look, then turned and walked away.

Behind me, Harlow's voice trembled as she sobbed. "Mr. Lawrence, does Brianna not like me? Is that why she keeps giving me so much work that's not my job?"

Gunnar patiently explained to her, "Don't overthink it. We're still a startup. Job rotation is standard."

Did he really say that?

Harlow was another employee. What gave her the right to be so sensitive?

Then Denver Barron, one of our partners, called. "Bria, what's going on with that secretary, Ms. Summer, from your company?

"Things used to flow so well between us. Now she wants to tack on three extra layers of approval for everything.

"By the time that's finished, the other vendors will have their stuff shipped out already."

"Mr. Barron, I apologize," I replied. "She's still new. We'll stick to the usual process."

"Forget it for this deal. Your secretary says our whole partnership model is flawed. This batch isn't coming from your side. Let me know when your team sorts itself out."

I slammed my mug on the table, furious.

Denver was one of our top clients. He had money and power, acted on his mood, and didn't need anyone's approval.

I learned about him through some mutual connections back in the day.

He had no real hobbies, except drinking. And he could really hold his liquor.

I drank myself into a stomach ulcer to win his business.

Denver gave me a thumbs-up, grinning wildly. "Bria, you're a real force."

I forced a smile, trying to ignore the sharp pain in my gut.

The doctor warned me: no more heavy drinking if I wanted to stay healthy.

Harlow looked absolutely miserable. "I'm trying to raise our company's standards for partnerships. If we keep accommodating them, we're only lowering ourselves."

"Really? This is your idea of raising our standards?" I shot back, my tone biting. "How many clients have you managed to piss off lately?"

All the anger I'd been bottling up at Harlow finally spilled out.

"But if our approval process isn't standardized, who do we hold responsible if something goes wrong down the line?"

"So, you think that excuses you for acting superior to our clients?"

Losing Denver's order was a real, tangible loss.

Tears welled up in Harlow's eyes.

No matter how much Gunnar protected her, I thought he'd know when to draw the line.

But again, Gunnar spoke up for her.

"Gunnar, you're seriously defending Harlow this time?" I demanded.

"Bria, it's not about defending her," he replied. "Harlow's logic, at its core, isn't wrong. If we want to grow, process standardization is essential.

"But she's a fresh grad, still learning the ropes, both with people and with business. Her theory isn't bad. Long-term, standardized approval will benefit more than harm."

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and then opened them again. "In a startup, survival comes first.

"Gunnar, Summerset needs to make it through today before we worry about holding people accountable."

Harlow looked like she couldn't accept it.

As I walked away, I could still hear her complaining to Gunnar in the background.

"Brianna's way is so old-school," she moaned. "She forces things through on experience, with no structured management. Keep this up long enough, and we'll hit a wall for sure."

I let out a cold laugh.

Funny, we were already up against a wall, thanks to you, Harlow.

Gunnar patted her shoulder, saying something to comfort her. But I had walked too far away from them to hear them.

*****

To win back Denver's order, I called him again and again, trying to set up a meeting, but he shot me down every time.

I had someone pull some strings and get in touch with his wife, Evelyn Barron.

I gifted her a quarterly pass to a brand-new beauty salon.

Whenever she was stuck at the salon and couldn't leave, she'd ask me to pick up her third-grade son from school.

On weekends, I'd show up at the hospital with a fruit basket and help out with her sick parents.

Riding on Evelyn's pillow talk, I finally scored a chance to meet Denver.

I drank myself under the table. My stomach twisted in agony, like it was being sliced up piece by piece.

As I hugged the toilet, puking my guts out, Gunnar finally looked at me, guilt flickering in his eyes for the first time. "Bria, what do you want?"

Gunnar wanted to make it up to me somehow.

I curled my lips into a cold, mocking smile and said coldly, "I want you to fire Harlow."