Chapter 3 - The Corporate Stage
Warren’s world was built entirely on appearance. He worked for Apex Office Solutions, a mid-tier hardware and software distributor. His office was located in a sleek, glass-and-steel complex in Reston, Virginia—a building that, ironically, Reed Urban Partners had co-developed three years prior. Warren didn't know that I held a 35% stake in the ground lease beneath his feet.
At 10:30 AM on Monday, I sat in the back of a town car parked across the street from the Apex building. I had an iPad on my lap, reviewing the quarterly earnings for our North Carolina logistics hub, but my eyes kept drifting to the entrance.
My phone rang. It was Warren. This time, I answered.
"Allison!" his voice exploded through the speaker, tight with panic and barely suppressed rage. "Where are you? Do you have any idea what just happened? Two men in dark suits just walked into my quarterly review with the regional VP and handed me a summons. They said I’m being sued for $300,000 by a company called Reed Urban! What is this? Is this your parents' doing? Did those old bastards trap me?"
"My parents have nothing to do with this, Warren," I said, my voice dead calm.
"Then who the hell is Reed Urban Partners? The lawyer said the note I signed for the house money was transferred to them! Why are they calling in a debt for money I never even received?"
"You signed the note, Warren. You signed a legally binding statement acknowledging a debt in exchange for corporate financial backing. You used that backing to secure the lease on the Great Falls estate so you could brag to your mother and your brothers. Did you really think a premium catering company and a luxury estate manager would take a standard credit card with a $20,000 limit?"
"You set me up," he hissed, his breath rattling through the phone. "You and your family. My mother was right about you. You’re small-minded, vindictive—"
"Warren," I interrupted, his words no longer carrying the power to hurt me. "Look out your office window. Third floor, east side. Do you see the silver town car parked by the fountain?"
There was a long silence on the line. I watched the third-floor glass. A figure in a dark blue suit stepped toward the window, holding a phone to his ear. Even from this distance, his posture looked smaller, deflated.
"What about it?" he muttered.
May you like
"That car belongs to the majority owner of the building you're standing in," I said softly. "And the woman sitting in the back seat is the person you told to sit down and eat scraps on Saturday night. I’ll see you in court, Warren. Don't bother going back to the house. The locks were changed two hours ago."
I hung up before he could scream.
