Chapter 6 - The Corner Office
The vastness of the chairman's office felt less like a workspace and more like the command bridge of an aircraft carrier.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my old cardboard box containing my coffee mug and family framed photo clutched in my arms, staring at Victoria Vance as her words hung in the air.
"Permanently?" I echoed, the word tasting like rich, dark coffee after weeks of stale water. "You canceled Nick's contract entirely because of what happened this morning?"
"My mother is the matriarch of this family, Mr. Cole, and by extension, the heartbeat of everything we build," Victoria said, her voice completely devoid of corporate fluff. She stepped aside, gesturing further into the expansive, sunlit room. "When a man saves her life on the asphalt while corporate vultures abandon her for a schedule, we don't reward those vultures. We clean house. Now, are you going to stand in the doorway all afternoon, or would you like to discuss the terms of your new contract?"
I swallowed hard, slowly walking past her into the office. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unobstructed view of the city where, just two hours ago, I had walked out of a dead-end job with tears burning in my eyes.
"Victoria... I'm honored, truly," I said, setting my cardboard box down on a minimalist glass side table. "But heading up the entire global marketing division for Vance Global? That's a multi-million-dollar operation. I've only ever managed mid-level accounts and regional advertising campaigns."
A low, warm chuckle echoed from the private inner sanctum of the office.
"Competence teaches humility, Sebastian, while arrogance breeds mediocrity," a voice spoke from the shadows near the private balcony.
A frail but impossibly sharp-eyed older woman stepped out into the light, leaning slightly on an ebony cane with an ornate silver handle. Eleanor Vance. Her silver hair was styled into a flawless chignon, mirroring her daughter's, and though her face was pale from the morning's cardiac scare, her gaze was as sharp as a razor.
"Mrs. Vance," I said, instinctively stepping forward. "You should be resting in the ICU."
"The ICU beds are far too soft, Mr. Cole, and the television selection is appalling," Eleanor said, offering a dry, knowing smile as she walked over to a leather armchair and settled into it with deliberate grace. "Victoria tells me you were wondering if you're qualified for this position. Tell me, did you question your qualifications when you pulled over on Route 9 to give CPR to an old woman you didn't know?"
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"No," I answered honestly. "I didn't think about it at all. She was dying."
"Exactly," Eleanor said, tapping her cane lightly against the imported rug. "Business is no different. Most people spend their lives driving past the wreckage because stopping is inconvenient. You stopped. That tells me everything I need to know about your character. Now, let’s talk about your starting salary—and how we're going to dismantle your former employer's entire client portfolio piece by piece."
