Chapter 2 - The Offer Nobody Could Refuse
By noon, the entire company was talking about me.
Some people called me lucky.
Others called me stupid.
One woman from accounting whispered that I had probably slept with Damian.
I heard her.
I pretended I didn't.
That afternoon, Damian summoned me to his office.
His new office.
The old CEO's corner office.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Manhattan.
I stood at the entrance.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.”
He gestured toward the chair.
I sat.
He remained standing.
“Why didn't you tell me who you were?”
“Friday?”
“Yes.”
“You didn't ask.”
“You said you were a repairman.”
“You assumed that.”
I frowned.
“You were holding a screwdriver.”
“I know how to repair things.”
“That's misleading.”
Damian smiled.
“You were complaining. I didn't want to interrupt.”
I sighed.
“You took notes.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you were the first person in this company who told me the truth.”
That answer surprised me.
He walked toward the window.
“Do you know how many people congratulated me when I acquired this company?”
“Probably everyone.”
“Exactly.”
He turned.
“They told me what they thought I wanted to hear.”
“You're the owner.”
“That's precisely why.”
He walked back toward the desk.
“I need someone who doesn't care whether I like her.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds like a terrible job description.”
“It is.”
“What are you offering?”
“Chief Strategy Officer.”
I laughed.
“You're serious?”
“Completely.”
“I've never been an executive.”
“You've been doing executive-level work without executive authority.”
He placed a contract in front of me.
The salary was nearly triple my current compensation.
There was also an equity package.
I stared.
“This is too much.”
“No.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know exactly enough.”
I looked up.
“What happens if I say no?”
“You walk out.”
“And nothing happens?”
“Nothing.”
I studied him.
“You don't intimidate people into accepting your offers?”
“I don't need to.”
His voice lowered.
“People who work for me should choose to.”
That sentence stayed with me.
I signed.
Not because he was Damian Moretti.
Not because he was powerful.
Because for the first time in years, someone had looked at my work and seen its value.
When I left his office, I found Caroline waiting outside.
She looked furious.
“You think you're special now?”
“No.”
“You have no idea what you're getting involved in.”
I stopped.
“What does that mean?”
She stepped closer.
“Damian Moretti doesn't promote people because he likes their PowerPoint slides.”
I stared at her.
“Then why did he promote me?”
Caroline smiled bitterly.
“You'll find out.”
She walked away.
That night, I received an anonymous text.
Stay away from Damian.
I deleted it.
Another message arrived.
He doesn't love women. He owns them.
I blocked the number.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown.
I answered.
A distorted voice whispered:
“Your elevator conversation was a mistake.”
The call ended.
I froze.
Someone had been listening.
May you like
Someone knew about Friday.
And someone was afraid of what Damian had learned from me.
