Page 124 of Take It Offline

It’s in thethank yous and themuch appreciateds. Thegood mornings, the nodded smiles, theCan you help me?

I don’t want to leave. If I do, I fear I’ll go back to being everything Charlie once accused me of. The bored little rich girl playing dress-up while the world burns.

Despite appearances, I’ve never been in less control than I am right now. Unlike Charlie, who is the master of his own destiny, I’ve always been expected—rewarded, even—when I fall in line.

And for fuck’s sake, if it’s frustrating for me—a woman who grew up with money and attended private school, with a name whose reputation preceded me—how cruel and dangerous must the world be to those who are actively oppressed through every rule and judgment and perception?

Even at my lowest, I have access others don’t. It’s like Charlie said—for every sand trap he faces, he still starts with a lower handicap. I hate him for teaching me anything about golf.

I also hate how right he is.

Emmanuel smiles as I enter his office, and my nerves stretch tighter.

“Thank you for meeting with me. I know it’s short notice and a little mysterious, but I’ll clear everything up in a few minutes,”he says once I’m seated in the visitor chair opposite him. “I had hoped we’d have this conversation under better circumstances, but there’s nothing to be done about that, so I’ll get right to it.”

“Okay.” I leave it at that, using the silence like Charlie said to keep from giving anything away.

It works.

“The first thing you should know is that Karl Roberts no longer works here.”

My mind trips over itself, and every direction I imagined this going instantly reroutes. “Did he quit?”

“I can’t get into the details, but Karl was let go over the weekend. Security will be through today to clear out his office.” He laces his fingers on top of his desk. “As you can appreciate, we can’t let him back into the building without risking him accessing valuable business information.”

“Of course.”

I keep my voice level, but I’m still trying to make sense of it. Is this because of what Charlie and I found?

“Second, I want to apologize. I’ve believed a number of things Karl has told me in the past, namely in regard to your work and performance. I took him at his word, and that is my failure. Now that I’ve taken the time to speak with others and learned of his undermining of your efforts, I know how far astray he led me.”

There’s a glass of water in front of me on the table, one I suspect Emmanuel put there in anticipation that I’d need it, but my hand is shaking so much I don’t want to risk reaching for it.

“Emma,” he says with a sigh.

He runs a hand along his jaw, and it’s then that I notice how rough he looks. There’s a weight in his eyes, his face, his shoulders. He is genuinely sorry. I honestly don’t know what to do with that after all of Roberts’s torment.

“I’ve read over the work you and Charlie have done, and I’m impressed with it. I’m not the only one either. Jeremy Baxterhad only good things to say about how you handled yourself when presenting it to him.”

My breath catches. This cannot be real. I’m dreaming.

If I could move, I would pinch myself.

“I’m inclined to postpone the appointment of the lead role. We’ll need time to fill Karl’s position, which leaves things very awkwardly in the air. But before I make that decision, I want to ask you, why do you want this role? What does it mean to you?”

Shaking be damned, I reach for the glass. Despite how it feels like my insides are about to spill out of me, I manage to take a couple of calm sips without spilling a drop.

“For the last five years,” I say, setting the glass on the desk again, “I’ve done little more than dedicate myself to this job. I’ve completed more in that time than any one of my peers. I’ve consistently brought solutions to light. Solutions I have vetted and tested as best as I can, and I have been willing to take on new projects any time they were presented to me.” Presented… ordered… same, same. “I could sit here and list every project I’ve completed and how much time or money or frustration it’s saved this company, but it’s a long list, and I’m sure your wife would prefer you make it home for dinner at a decent hour.”

Emmanuel smiles, as I’d hoped he would, and it’s what I need to keep going.

“I want this role not only because I’ve earned it, but because I’m the best person for it. I care about our procedures, and I care about making sure they’re fit for the people using them. That our processes make sense and aren’t cumbersome. That they aren’t so convoluted you need to speak three languages to untangle what button to press. That our information is secure in a system that supports and even assists us in the work we’re all being paid to do.”

I clasp my hands in my lap. Emmanuel doesn’t speak. He continues to watch me with interest.

“To be honest,” I say, pulling my shoulders back, “I want this role because of the work, not the company, and not the title. It doesn’t matter to me if I’m doing it here or somewhere else. I want to make a difference, and I want to put my energy into something I care about. Right now, that is this job. That’s what this role means to me.”

When I’m finished, he gives me a single nod I don’t know how to interpret.

---