Chapter 2
"What are you doing?" Wendell frowned slightly, leaning straight against the table.
"Obviously, we're leaving, Mr. Cervantes," I said, my voice full of defiance.
I tossed all the USB drives I had worked on for him over the years, along with the ashes of the documents I just burned, straight onto the floor.
"Oops, guess I wasn't careful. Please clean it up later," I said.
When Wendell spotted the words "joint assets" in the ashes, his face turned sour.
But he still maintained his reserved persona, arms crossed as he gave me a stern warning.
He said, "Malia, I don't know what you found, but without this company, do you want to go back to that orphanage and beg the director for food?"
The me from my previous life might have been stung by these words.
But now I rushed up and slapped him hard.
A crisp slap echoed in the empty office.
The team members covered their mouths and looked at us in shock.
Wendell pressed his cheek with his tongue and narrowed his eyes.
When I tried to slap him again, he grabbed my wrist. "What are you making a fuss about?"
I shook off his hand fiercely and punched him in the stomach as fast as lightning.
Then I waved to the team members and slipped out instantly.
Wendell was left alone, clutching his stomach and watching me leave, totally baffled.
*****
We did what we said. The next day we left the company, and I moved out of the apartment.
When I lay down in the new rental house, my phone suddenly buzzed.
The name flashing on the screen was like a blunt knife, but it could no longer hurt me.
I silenced the call and watched the sky outside my window slowly brighten.
At this moment, Wendell should be standing in the empty office area, facing more than a dozen black computer screens and neatly stacked resignation letters in the drawers.
I got up, put on a sincere smile, and headed to the new studio.
As the elevator doors closed in front of me for the very last time, sunlight was fading outside the glass windows.
The core team of twelve people had cleared all their personnel files, as if they had never existed.
I heard from the receptionist that Wendell had smashed a cup in the conference room.
This reminded me of three years ago, when he deducted project bonuses. There was the same sound of porcelain breaking.
I scoffed. He was so predictable. Did he really think he was some big shot?
*****
While I was busy mapping out a new direction for the company with my team, Wendell wouldn't quit calling.
He kept asking me to meet at that revolving restaurant downtown to talk about some new investment plan.
When I ignored Wendell, he started calling me relentlessly, even pulling out the excuse that Maeve wanted to see me.
When I was playing a game and was interrupted by more than a dozen calls popping up, I finally couldn't stand it anymore.
The next day, I showed up at the fancy restaurant with greasy hair.
I looked around and did not see Maeve. So I stared at Wendell coldly.
No matter what he said, I kept silent.
Wendell looked at my casual outfit and hesitated to speak.
I looked down at the proposal in my hand and flicked my greasy hair from time to time.
As soon as he finished talking about business, I immediately rolled up the proposal on the table and turned to leave, leaving him nothing but a view of my back.
*****
The next day, word got back to him that I had already signed the investment deal with his rival company.
Wendell watched the video of me shaking hands with the senior executives of the rival company on his phone, frowning deeply.
But he still thought I was doing this to get his attention.
So the next day, when I returned to my desk, I saw many flowers and gift boxes on it.
Sitting on top was a huge card that said: [Here's your anniversary gift. Stop being silly.]
I felt disgusted. Without even looking, I handed them to Derek and told him to put them in the shredder.
That day, the waste from shredding those gifts sold for thirty dollars.
Derek took the money and posted a photo on his social media saying that more suckers like this were welcome.
"Thirty dollars! Everyone gets lemonade today," Derek announced.
Meanwhile, Wendell was at his apartment, propping his chin up with his hands, waiting for my call.
He was still feeling self-satisfied about the surprise he had prepared for me.
But while scrolling through his feed, he suddenly saw Derek's post. His hand shook for a second, and he nearly dropped his phone.
Wendell started feeling annoyed, his chest tightening with frustration.
Maeve passed by, put down a cup of coffee, and asked him, "Why hasn't Malia come back recently? Is she too busy with work?"
He looked at Maeve's graying hair, feeling even more restless.
The company was about to go public, but all the core members had left.
He had to rush to piece together the projects from what I had left him.
Wendell was overwhelmed these days, but he pretended not to care and said, "She's just having a little mood swing. She'll be back in a few days."
Maeve looked at my photo on the living room table and sighed.
"We owe her. She still doesn't know the truth. Can't you treat her a little better?" she said.
Wendell ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm working on it, okay? Who knew she'd blow up like this?"