Claire spread the purchase orders across a conference table. Dave stayed on the visitor side of her laptop. She was showing him her own campaign documents, not giving a stranger access to the company's network. He appreciated the distinction more than he could admit. Northline Creative Services had billed for a launch in Denver, another in Cleveland, and one in Milwaukee. Claire opened the cancellation notices. All three events had been canceled before production. The charges had nevertheless been approved as completed work. I can be bad at parallel parking. I am not bad at counting boxes. Dave found that he liked the precision of her anger. She had highlighted discrepancies, preserved dated email copies, and refused a corrected spreadsheet that quietly removed the original order quantities. This was not suspicion searching for a villain. It was work someone hoped she would tire of doing. At the bottom of an invoice was a release note: after R.H. approval. Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose. Robert Hale, his chief operating officer, had practically helped raise him. He heard Robert's familiar advice: protect the family, then fix the numbers. Do you know who authorized the exceptions? The initials aren't proof. I want the approval log. Grant won't give it to me. She studied his expression. He tried to return to the quantities on the paper, but she put a hand on the stack. If someone you like is involved, liking them won't make the pages disappear. He looked up. She had meant ordinary workplace loyalty. It landed somewhere much deeper. Claire prepared a factual summary for counsel, marking what she knew and what still required verification. Dave suggested Ruth Ellis by name. When Claire asked how a new janitor knew general counsel, he said Luis had given the crew her contact for a contractor concern. True, but carefully incomplete. She sent her summary directly and kept the originals. Ruth acknowledged it. For the first time that week, Claire's shoulders dropped. A cardboard bridge sagged beside the window. Dave held the model while she taped its supports, hands meeting underneath a paper river. She was close enough that he could see a small ink mark near her jaw. He nearly brushed it away, then stopped himself. You're unusually good company for somebody who says so little about himself. He kept holding the bridge. There was no harmless answer to that.
An undercover CEO. A marketing strategist who sees the man beneath the uniform. A betrayal hidden inside the company he thought he knew.
Listen closely. Choose carefully. Carry the consequences.
Every path leaves a different story.