Page 15 of Due Diligence

When I got to my office, I dipped into the bottle of emergency vodka I kept in the bottom drawer of my file cabinet. Not too much, just a shot—enough to burn. Enough to take the edge off. Then I opened my laptop, created a new Word document, and typed FUCK YOU all in caps in size 72 font.

For about a minute, I fixated on that document. My eyes traced every curve and line in those seven letters and I contemplated two options.

One: I could compose myself and call Marcus to deliver a concise and mature apology.

Or two: I could save this motherfucker as a PDF, attach it to an email, and send it to him with the subject line:Follow-Up from Today’s Meeting.

My cursor was hovering over the “Save as PDF” dropdown when someone knocked on the door to my office. Not long after, Corinne Tyler herself opened the door and stuck her head in.

“Are you busy or can I come in and chat for a few minutes?” But she didn’t wait for a response. She simply strolled in and closed the door behind her, giving no shits about whether I had time for her or not. It was badass as hell, actually. It was something only the head bitch in charge could pull off. She knew she just made the trip all the way down from the eighty-eighth floor wearing a deadly looking pair of Louboutins, and there was no way in any version of hell I was going to turn her away.

Corinne took a seat in the chair on the other side of my desk and then crossed one leg over the other. It was seamless. A power move. For years, I had tried to emulate that move and always felt like it was apparent I was doing an impression. Corinne, on the other hand, moved naturally—like she was born to take names in a sheath dress.

“How are you today?” I asked, switching my tone to the corporate-approved voice I always used at work. I smiled at her, bright and beautiful (and hopefully not obviously buzzed from the shot I just took).

“Cassandra, what is going on?” Corinne asked. When she posed this question, she leaned forward and kept her eyes focused on mine. She was stunningly attractive, to the point where I even had trouble looking at her.

I paused, finally resolving to take in her expression. I admired Corinne, but I was wary of her. In my mind, anyone should be wary of a person who had achieved as much as Corinne had at only thirty years old. But when I looked at her face, I didn’t see anything hidden behind her expression. I’d had enough practice with rich egomaniacs to pick up on their ticks. Their hidden smirks or those self-satisfied grins—I could always spot them.

After all, I used to be one of them.

“Nothing.”

Her expression remained neutral, even though she knew better than to believe me. “Are you sure? Because ‘nothing’ is an inadequate way of describing the irate seller I just spoke to on the phone.”

That asshole told on me.

Silence made herself known at that precise moment. Silence busted her way in, threw elbows, and helped herself to a front row seat. Silence knocked me down with a swift blow to my ankle and forced me to bend over while she used my back as a footrest.

“I personally requested you to lead due diligence for this deal because it’s one of my biggest and most important deals to date,” Corinne continued, watching me closely with deep green eyes. “Everyone who has worked with you told me you’re the epitome of perfection. Rave reviews across the board. Thus, I was incredibly surprised to get a call from Marcus Fitz this morning, not only requesting that I replace you as his analyst, but also asking if I would strongly considerfiringyou.”

Immediately, a lump rose in my throat. That rat bastard. That smug, hypocritical,bastard.Immediately, my corporate career started to flash before my eyes. I saw those late nights I spent slinging drinks, working catering jobs on the weekends, and sending out dozens of résumés only to receive rejections. I saw those early mornings when I cracked open a GMAT practice book, on the verge of sleep as I worked through math problemsuntil sunrise—all to get an MBA I never wanted, but knew I needed to make some real money. I saw all those hours I spent at Davenport-Ridgeway, scrambling for a paycheck I never used for myself. I saw all of that piled at the bottom of a massive pyre and igniting into flames—while Marcus fucking Fitz simpered at me with a torch in his hand.

“Corinne, I am so sorry,” I said hastily, loathing the way my voice started to shake. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Relax. I’m not firing you,” she cut in, her eyes narrowed.

“Oh thank god. I’ve put a lot into this job over the years. It would kill me to lose all that work and commitment.”

That was a bald-faced lie, for the record. My job was soul-sucking. I was there for a paycheck and nothing more.

Corinne clicked her tongue before she ticked both eyebrows upwards. “Well, to start, I actually can’t fire you. I’m not your manager. Although, I chatted with Mahendra and told him I don’t think this is worth a dismissal, so rest easy.” She tipped back in her seat and draped her long brown hair over her shoulder. “But I’m not here to fuck around, so tell me what’s going on so I can help you get your head on straight.”

It took me a few seconds to realize Corinne truly just said what I thought she did—and a few seconds after that to realize I was staring at her with my jaw lowered by about half an inch.

“What?” she inquired as she studied my baffled expression. “You’re telling me you’re surprised to hear me swear? Please. I can tell you swear, Cassandra. I can also tell you took a shot of…I want to say…vodka before I showed up here.” Corinne grinned. “Just because I have a fancy title doesn’t make me inhuman. I don’t think we’re so different.”

“I don’t think most people know much about me,” I found myself saying.

She nodded, and it was a gesture flowing with the kind of confident resolve some women were born with. “Okay, look,” shebegan, “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it sounds like you and Marcus Fitz have a complicated history I don’t fully understand. However, I do know from experience that it’s only going to get worse if you don’t address it head on. So, I’m going to ask that you go to Libra tomorrow—as planned and as you’repaidto—and you talk to Marcus. If you two really can’t find a way to work together, I will request another analyst. Does that work for you?”

“It’ll work,” I resolved, knowing a failed due diligence period would mar my reputation for years. “I’ll suck it up. I’ll make it work.”

Because that’s what I did—what I had always done. I sucked it up. I made it work.

“Good,” she answered. “And if you ever want to talk to me about what’s going on, feel free to find me.” Corinne rose from her seat. “I’m only a couple of years older than you, I know, but I’ve been in your shoes.”

Somehow, I suppressed a laugh. Corinne was engaged to a gorgeous specimen of a man, the son of the CEO, who she met when she was inkindergarten. I, on the other hand, was living paycheck to paycheck with a different guy in my bed every weekend and my career teetering on the brink of extinction.

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