Chapter 2

"I'll apologize to Mr. Bennett," I said.

Richard just looked at me for a moment. Then he said, "An apology isn't going to do much."

I knew that. But aside from apologizing, I couldn't think of anything else, at least not right then.

"Tomorrow," he said, "you're going to Fordwell Group, and you're sitting down with Mr. Bennett face to face. Be sincere, and bring a new proposal with you. At the very least, let him see that we're serious."

"Tomorrow?" I looked up. "You want a new proposal by tomorrow?"

He gave me a flat look. "You really think you have time to take it slow?"

I didn't say anything.

He was right. In a situation like this, every hour that passes only makes the other side angrier.

I had to get in front of the client before he sent out an official notice terminating the partnership.

Richard said, "You're staying late tonight to rework the proposal. Nothing too drastic. Just go back through Mr. Bennett's last round of feedback and put together a version he won't be able to find fault with."

I nodded.

"And one more thing." He held my gaze. "Whatever Mr. Bennett says to you tomorrow, you take it. If he shouts, you listen. If he starts throwing things, you stay right where you are.

"There's no magic solution for this kind of situation. The only way to earn another chance is to show him what kind of attitude you're bringing."

He seemed to twitch slightly at the corner of his mouth as he said it.

It wasn't sympathy, and it wasn't reassurance. If anything, it looked closer to anticipation.

But anticipation of what? How badly would Mr. Bennett tear into me, or whether this project would finally crash and burn for good?

I didn't think too much about it at the time. It was only later that I realized the answer had been written all over that tiny, almost imperceptible expression.

I ran his words through my head twice. "Earn another chance with your attitude."

What that really meant was to walk in there, weather the storm, and swallow every last bit of humiliation without breaking.

"Got it," I said.

When I stood up, my legs felt strangely unsteady, not because I was scared exactly, but because I knew something brutal was waiting for me on the other side of tomorrow morning, and I had no way of knowing whether I was strong enough to get through it.

I walked out of Richard's office and into the hallway, which was exactly as long as it had been on my way in.

It still took forty steps, but this time the distance felt considerably longer than it had before.

Back at my desk, I lowered myself into my chair.

Emily rolled over in her office chair. "All right," she said. "What happened?"

I handed her my phone.

She looked at the screen, and then her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah."

"You sent that to the client group?"

"Yeah."

"And Mr. Bennett saw it?"

"He saw it. He took a screenshot. And he sent a smiley face."

Emily handed the phone back to me, and the expression on her face was a complicated one, a mixture of sympathy, disbelief, and just a hint of a laugh she was clearly fighting to hold back.

"Don't laugh," I said.

"I'm not laughing." She pressed her lips together into a hard line. "It's just... your luck is honestly kind of impressive."

"Thanks."

"What did Mr. Lane say?"

"I have to go to Fordwell Group tomorrow and apologize in person, and I need to redo the proposal tonight."

Emily was quiet for a moment. "You want some help with that?"

I looked at her.

She and I started at the same time, and she's the only person in this office I can actually be straight with.

She had her own projects sitting on her plate too, and if she stayed to help me tonight, that meant her own work would have to wait.

"I'll handle it," I said finally.

"Don't be stubborn about this."

"Really, I'm fine. I'm the one who made the mistake, so I'm the one who cleans it up."

She watched me for a few seconds, and when she saw I wasn't going to budge, she gave my shoulder a quick pat, rolled her chair back to her side of the desk, and let it go.