When I Went Home

"Now the client is demanding a twenty percent discount, and our gross margin is only thirty percent."

"This is a project we've followed for more than six months. If we keep going, we lose money. If we walk away, we may lose the client completely."

I nodded as I pushed open Marcus's office door.

Hannah was lying sideways on the office sofa bed, while Marcus sat beside her, feeding her water by the spoonful.

That sofa bed had been bought years ago, when we first started the company, because Marcus wanted to force me to rest.

He had said, "My office is your private lounge."

Even after the company grew, moved, and built out its own headquarters, I brought that sofa bed along.

Now another woman lay on it, and he guarded her with the tenderness that used to belong to me.

My chest tightened for a second.

Strangely, it no longer hurt.

When Hannah saw me, she immediately sat up.

"Constance, don't misunderstand. I fainted because I felt so guilty, so Marcus was only giving me sugar water."

I still remembered the first time she met Marcus. Back then, she treated him as my future husband.

At some point, that had changed.

I ignored her and slapped the report onto Marcus's desk.

"At the client's current price, we lose one point two million if we take this project."

I glanced at them both.

"So which one of you is covering the loss?"

Hannah's eyes reddened instantly.

"It's all my fault. I should have woken Marcus. I just felt sorry for him because he was so tired."

"I'll go talk to Mr. Carter. I'll beg him."

Marcus frowned down at the documents and did not stop her.

Riley and I stood there without moving.

Hannah was stuck in her own performance with no one willing to cue the next scene.

I folded my arms and looked at her.

"Hannah, business does not work because you cry or beg."

She lifted the cashmere blanket and took two steps before collapsing to the floor.

The performance was so clumsy that I felt dumber for witnessing it.

But Marcus, the celebrated business genius, believed it.

He helped Hannah up and carefully settled her back on the sofa.

"Constance, you're always so aggressive."

"Does the whole world have to revolve around you?"

I tapped the desk.

"Don't waste my time with things unrelated to the project. One point two million. What are you going to do?"

His eyes reddened.

"If taking it means losing money, then we don't take it."

I laughed coldly.

"Do you remember how much we drank and how many nights we stayed up to win this client?

"And this is not our only project with them. If we give them up, how many more one point two million losses will follow?

"Marcus Vale, did a dog eat your brain?"

He shot me an impatient look and muttered, "So petty."

Then he pulled out a bank card and threw it at my face.

"It's only one point two million. I'll pay for her. Happy?"

My cheek burned.

But I was eerily calm.

The poor boy who once thought twelve-dollar burger was expensive could now toss out one point two million without blinking.

He had forgotten how many people's livelihoods depended on the decisions in his hand.

Or maybe he knew and simply did not care.

If one point two million did not matter, what about one hundred times that?

I wanted to see whether he would still be so careless then.

I asked my best friend, Olivia Hart, to meet me for afternoon tea.

She was still cursing Marcus when I received a message from Riley.

"Ms. Rivers, please come back to the office. Now."

When I reached my office, Hannah was directing people to move out my desk.