by Hayleigh Sol
Then I’d glanced up and seen those images on the walls again, the ones that made me so proud of the work my company did.
The work I did.
And like some superhero who’d swallowed titanium or been injected with nanites that turned bone to metal, I felt the steely strengthening of my spine as it snapped into place. The red haze cleared from my tunneled vision, my heartbeat returned to its regularly scheduled programming, and my lungs allowed themselves to fully inflate again.
I didn’t think I’d ever had a bigger shock in my entire life and, once the initial sympathetic nervous system response died down, I was…numb.
Cold…detached…some unidentifiable emotion I’d never felt before. If revenge is a dish best served cold, I was the Ice Woman.
Huh, not a bad superhero name. Wonder if it’s ever been used.
But, no, I didn’t want revenge. Not really.
What I wanted was justice.
And my damn company back.
That was when Brad’s group email and his personal text to me dinged my phone. Coincidentally, Luka had also texted another apology, asking me to call him so we could make up. I smiled a little at the way he’d phrased it, like us being over wasn’t even a possibility he’d considered.
After several minutes of internal debate, I turned off my phone. If I was going to get tough, I had to do it on my own. Not with the encouragement of my friends or Bailey’s tough–love approach. Not in defiance of my mother’s doubts, and certainly not with Brad’s particular brand of help. Not even with Luka’s support.
So I’d gone home, washed my face of all traces of distress, and gotten to work.
I did turn my phone back on early Monday morning but only long enough to make a call I knew would be answered despite the hour. Once that was done, I prepared for battle.
Precisely ten minutes after the staff meeting was scheduled to begin, I pulled into the parking lot, picked up a folder that made my skin burn with the knowledge of what it contained, and strode into the building. Wearing what I considered my “power suit”—deep red button–up shirt over black trousers with a charcoal and blue pinstripe—I headed toward the conference room with the satisfying click of my heels providing the soundtrack to my entrance.
It was like a damn movie.
Brad was facing the windows and spotted me first, his mouth dropping open mid–speech. All eyes followed his gaze and a five–second assessment revealed only one genuine smile at my appearance. Evan. Evan looked happy to see me.
One side of Tiffany’s mouth turned down in a derisive sneer as she rolled her eyes. No surprise there.
Cole and Meg wore a mix of surprise and disappointment, from what I could see in their relatively flat expressions.
Fully entering the room, I remained standing, which put me in the desired position above Brad, who was recovering. “Maya. Wow, didn’t expect to see you today.”
I stared him down, every scrap of affection, admiration, and love I’d ever felt for this man completely obliterated. Replaced with disgust and a fiery desire to punch his stupid face.
Or knee him in the nads. Maybe both?
Instead of giving in to my fantasy, I smiled around the room. It felt tight on my face. One of those smiles the villain gives the hero before burning his house to the ground. Except, I was going to be the heroine—at last—of my own story. And I finally knew who the villain was.
“Hello, everyone. Sorry to hijack your meeting”—not sorry—“but, Brad, Tiffany, I need to speak with you. Privately.”
The others glanced at each other, three pairs of eyebrows raised, then hastily cleared the room. On their way out, I nodded my thanks and told them I’d speak with them in a moment. Evan’s smile had slipped a few notches, questions he was obviously dying to ask in his eyes.
Tiffany maintained her typical air of boredom. Brad sat up straighter in his chair and opened his mouth before I’d shut the door. “Maya—”
“Nope. My turn, Brad.”
Setting the folder I carried on the table, I removed the copies I’d made and slid a set over to my ex and another to his partner in crime. “Care to explain?”
Eyes flicking from me to the sheet in front of him, Brad again started to speak, then closed his mouth as he realized what he was reading. I assumed that was the reason for him shutting his trap anyway. He flipped through the pages while Tiffany barely glanced at the notes before shrugging a delicate shoulder.
She didn’t even attempt to offer up an explanation, and certainly not an apology. Guess she knew she was about to be out on her ass and didn’t see the point in continuing the charade of hardworking employee any longer.
In a way, it was refreshing.
“Maya”—Brad pulled my attention back his way, his eyes wide with a sincerity that confirmed once and for all what an excellent actor he would’ve made—“this isn’t what—”
“What it looks like? Really, Brad? You’re going to try that one on me.” My laugh was acerbic as I shook my head at the man I’d thought I might one day marry.
“Figured you’d have more imagination than that. After all, you did manufacture this oh–so clever plan to turn the staff against me, convince me to give everything over to you, so you could promote your little helper over here. Oh, and let’s not forget the part where you and Tiff switch to vendors I’ve refused to use in the past for their shoddy products. Or how you were going to use my company to help corporations greenwash themselves to appear as if they’re practicing sustainability when they’re really not.”
“Maya…I…”
Huh, nothing to say now and, yet, he had plenty to say in his adorable little notes to Tiffany. The handwritten pages I’d found had been the tip of the iceberg. I’d recovered deleted emails between them going back several months. They’d been undermining me and plotting against me even before I’d told Brad we should put our relationship on pause.
“Just to satisfy my curiosity, how long have you two been sleeping together?”
Tiffany scowled, staring at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Not ‘sleeping together’, then? Screwing. Is that a more accurate definition of your relationship?”
She snorted out a breath. “Like I’d have sex with him. He’s old enough to be my father.”
Ha! That was awesome. Brad wasn’t quite that much older than her but I knew how much her comment would bruise his fragile male ego. I suppose I had more than one reason to be grateful to Toxic Tiffany. For months now—almost since the day I’d hired her, at Brad’s recommendation—I’d felt like she was the wrong fit. Now, not only had she given me the final nail in her own coffin but she’d insulted my ex’s sex appeal on her way out the door.
“Well, then. Tiffany, I’ll take your key and the company laptop and wish you all the best in your future endeavors. Which, hopefully, won’t include sabotage, malicious gossip, and whatever other shenanigans you’ve managed here that I’m not yet aware of.”
She handed over the items I’d requested and, without a word or glance in the direction of the three pairs of curious eyes pretending to work in the main room, strutted toward the exit. I followed, of course.
At the door, she paused, then turned to face me. “Good luck, Maya.”
“Thank—”
“You’re gonna need it.”
Ah, excellent parting shot.
She hadn’t said it as a threat, more like, “you’re so incompetent, you’ll need a miracle to make this business a success.” As last words went, hers were perfect for hitting me right in the tender jugular.
But when I’d felt that spark in the pit of my stomach last night, there really had been a major shift in my perception and Tiffany’s ugliness didn’t affect me like it would have in the past. With that shift—and the boiling anger, which could be good in small doses, I had to admit—something inside me had woken up and
seen all the ways I’d succeeded already. In the initial years of building something from almost nothing, in the satisfied clients we’d helped, and, most importantly, in finally cutting out the tumor that had taken root when I hadn’t realized it.
Speaking of…
I returned to the conference room, catching Evan’s once again raised eyebrows on the way. My smile this time was more cheerful; I was looking forward to this part.
Brad was sitting where I’d left him, focus fixed on the evidence of his betrayal in front of him. I pulled another stack of papers out from my magic folder—the partnership agreement he’d given me the day before—and skated it across the table.
“I’m sure you can understand why I won’t be signing anything that comes from you.”
He met my cold eyes and I searched for a hint of remorse. “Maya, I’m sorry you found this”—ah, sorry you got caught, not that you did it—“but I really was trying to do what I felt best to save the company. For you.”
Uh huh. “Sure you were, Brad.”
“I still don’t see how you’re going to get out of the red without a significant cash injection. Something I’m still willing to discuss.”
How magnanimous of him.
“Nah, I think I’ll manage just fine on my own.”
Opening the door behind me once more, I swept my other hand in the universal after–you gesture. He left the papers on the table, packed his personal laptop in that leather messenger bag, and walked out of my office.
Out of my life.
Good fucking riddance.
After meeting with Cory, Meg, and Evan individually, I sent a quick text to Luka.
Me: I’d love to make up. Lots to tell you – can we try dinner again tonight?
Luka: Yes! If I promise to be on better behavior, is it alright if I come to your place after work?
Me: Sounds good. =) Text you when I’m heading home.
Hours flew as I got up to speed with the status of our current projects, ensured the vendor swaps Brad and Tiffany had planned hadn’t actually occurred, and arranged an in–person meeting for the next morning with Guy, the general contractor on our largest project, the hospital build.
Earlier in the day, I’d outlined my expectations for Meg and Cory, advising each of them that mistakes in their work would no longer be tolerated. They’d had plenty of training and time here; they knew what their job responsibilities were. Instead of the hours I’d been spending correcting them myself every week, I would now be notifying them of any errors they would need to fix.
I also requested they work on bringing in more revenue by suggesting additional products and services to customers and offering them the incentives we had in place for referrals. No pushy, sales–y crap. Just letting already satisfied customers know we had more to offer, including discounts they could enjoy for spreading the word about us.
By the end of the day, Cory gave his two–week notice. He said he was moving back to Arizona, where his family was, and had a job lined up there, which made me feel a bit better. It sounded like he’d been planning to leave regardless of whether or not I was in charge here. I wished him the best.
That evening, Meg resigned—without notice—via email. She had some rather unpleasant things to say, including Brad having told her I’d been against hiring her initially. It was true. There was a twelve–year gap in her résumé while she’d been a stay–at–home mom and, during her interview, I hadn’t felt she’d been all that interested in sustainability or the company’s mission statement. Her lackluster performance while she’d worked here the past eight months proved my instincts had been right.
Brad should never have told her about my initial impression, though. It was unprofessional, potentially hurtful, depending on how he’d delivered the news, and would’ve put my working relationship with Meg on very rocky ground.
If he’d expected me to come back. Which, of course, he hadn’t.
Neither Cory nor Meg’s departures had really taken me by surprise and, after my very positive chat with Evan that morning, I was relieved to be rid of additional stressors. I was promoting Evan to a new role I hadn’t come up with a title for yet, one in which he’d basically be running the show for everything Green for Green currently consulted on.
My focus would be launching the eco–design consulting branch of the company. My dream. I couldn’t wait to tell Luka.
On the way home, I picked up dinner and a dessert surprise–slash–thank you. I’d learned that neither one of us was big on eating out. Besides, I wanted the quiet intimacy of having him in my space while we…made up.
The knock on my front door made me jump and the butterflies in my diaphragm were back on the job as I greeted him with a tentative hug. He removed the tentativeness, holding me close as I breathed him in.
“I’m so sorry about last night,” he said into my hair. “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, shouldn’t have pushed like that.”
I pulled him farther inside, shut the door and pressed him against it before I attacked his mouth with my own.
Apparently, it wasn’t just being in the forest that made me want to shove him up against stuff and climb him like a tree.
“Thank you, but I’m also sorry I was overly sensitive. I know you were telling me to be strong because you see that in me, even when I don’t.”
“I do.” His eyes shined with sincerity. “I also don’t want anyone to take advantage of you. Or tell you how to run your company or live your life…even if it sounded like I was doing the same thing.” He shook his head at himself.
I ran my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and gave it a little tug until he looked up at me again. “No, you didn’t. Not really. Not like you knew better than me or I wasn’t capable of figuring things out for myself.” Luka had been frustrated for me. Not with me. And that was a big, important distinction.
We sat down to another dinner, this time at the smaller table and chairs on the balcony of my apartment. I’d left my phone inside and silenced.
Once I’d shocked him with the news of my discovery at the office last night, he wanted to know every detail. I poured it all out. How the handwritten notes between Brad and Tiffany had referenced deleting previous emails. How I’d then unearthed those emails on the company server and learned the depths of their dastardly plan. Luka smiled at my dramatic flair, as intended.
It was amazing that I was capable of telling my story with even a hint of lightheartedness. Though I’d been furious at first, seeing the truth and doing something about it had set me free.
Between the two of them, my ex and his favorite protégé had been undermining me to Meg and Cory, either by spreading gossip about the company’s imminent failure if I wasn’t able to secure a loan, or by making promises about how everything would improve once Brad was more fully on board. Reading between the lines, it looked like they’d attempted to include Evan but, as Tiffany had said in one of her emails, he was “disgustingly loyal” to me.
Relaying that information to Luka now only made me want to give Evan another promotion. And a smacking kiss on the cheek. So, I leaned across the table and kissed Luka’s cheek instead.
I told him about everything else that had transpired – the showdown with Tiffany and Brad this morning, the fallout of Cory’s and Meg’s resignations, Evan’s promotion, and my new direction. If I’d expected to feel overwhelmed or stressed with all the changes taking place, I couldn’t have been more wrong. All I felt was…buoyant.
Luka spent the night. After a few rounds of truly excellent makeup sex. Not that I really considered what had happened between us a fight. He believed in me, he saw my inner strength when I didn’t, and he encouraged me not to give up on what I wanted.
Or on myself.
My old flame may have provided the spark I needed. But I’d been the one to find my own fire again.
&nbs
p; Love a Good Freebie?
Hey there, happy readers! I’m Hayleigh and I hope you enjoyed reading Summer Flame. If you did, reviews are a huge help to self–published authors and, little secret, we read the really good ones whenever we need a mood boost. I’d be over the moon if you would post a review by clicking here. Thank you!
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About the Author
If I could spend every spare moment of my life reading, I absolutely would. Pause for a moment while I indulge that fantasy. My loving family has been known to hide my books to force human interaction. I bet some of you can identify with me on this. ;)
Originally from Southern California, I now live in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon. I’m a working physician with a busy practice, but always hoped to write when I retired. While my practice was temporarily closed at the beginning of the COVID–19 pandemic in 2020, I got my chance early. Since publishing that first book, I’m addicted, and now write every morning before work and every day off. Poor Mr. Hayleigh. When not treating patients or writing, you’ll find me reading (of course), or working out with my hubby in the friendly rivalry we've enjoyed since our second–date hike.
I love strong female protagonists, animals, and vanilla chai tea, which I drink far too much of in my writer’s cave.
Other Books by Hayleigh Sol
Silver Falls Series
An Unexpected Find (Book 1)
More than Friends (Book 1.5, a novella)