Chapter 5 - THE MONROE MELTDOWN
The Monroes were not used to losing.
Tiffany’s father,
a man who built his empire on the backs of smaller men,
was currently in a boardroom screaming at his lawyers.
The "Spa at the Monroe" was supposed to be Tiffany’s wedding gift,
a multi-million dollar project that was now dead in the water.
I walked into my office on Monday morning,
the glass doors engraved with "Miller & Associates,"
and felt the power of my own creation.
My assistant,
Leo,
handed me a tablet.
“Tiffany Monroe is in the lobby,” he said,
his eyebrows raised.
“She’s been there since eight a.m.”
I looked at the security feed.
Tiffany was wearing a dark suit,
her hair was perfect as usual,
but her eyes were red and swollen.
She looked like she was ready to beg,
or to kill.
“Send her up,” I said.
When she walked into my office,
she froze.
She looked at the awards on the wall,
the blueprints of the city’s newest skyline,
and the nameplate on my desk.
“Grace?” she whispered,
her voice trembling.
“You...
you’re the CEO?”
“I’m the architect,
Tiffany,” I said,
not rising from my chair.
“But I also happen to be the woman who pulled the plug on your spa.”
She sank into the chair opposite me,
the bridal glow completely gone.
“Caleb didn't know,” she said.
“He told me you were struggling,
he told me he was helping you pay your rent.”
I laughed,
a short,
sharp sound.
“Caleb has been sending me five hundred dollars a month for three years,
thinking I was using it for groceries.”
“I’ve been putting it into a college fund for Ethan,
never touching a cent of it.”
“He wanted to feel like the big,
strong brother,
and I let him,
because I thought he loved me.”
“But then he sat there and let you humiliate me for sport.”
Tiffany leaned forward,
her hands clasped together.
“Grace,
please.
My father will ruin Caleb if this project fails.
He’s already blaming him for the video.”
“That sounds like a Caleb problem,” I said,
picking up a pen.
“You wanted to make a joke at my expense,
Tiffany.”
“Well,
the bill has arrived,
and it’s more than you can afford.”
“Get out of my office.”
She stood up,
her face contorting with rage.
“You think you’re so much better than us?
You’re still just a lonely woman with a bastard kid!”
I didn't flinch.
May you like
“That ‘bastard kid’ has more heart in his pinky finger than your entire family has in their bank accounts.”
“Security will show you out.”
