The Price Of His Mistake Chapter 01
The $300 million merger deal was barely signed when I heard my husband giving orders to his assistant outside my office door.
“At tomorrow’s roadshow, change the project lead’s name to Emily.”
My hand stopped mid-air on the door handle.
The assistant hesitated. “But Catherine’s been pulling all-nighters on the data for two weeks. The client’s practically here because of her…”
My husband barely paused. His tone was matter-of-fact.
“Emily just graduated. She needs a big-ticket deal on her resume to get a foothold on Wall Street. Catherine’s already a Managing Partner. Listing this as mentoring a junior won’t cost her anything.”
“Once the commission comes in, I’ll buy her that Corvette C8. She’ll take it as a consolation prize.”
The next day, at the roadshow venue, my husband pressed a hand against my arm and whispered, “The intern who did the slide deck messed up the title page. I’ll wire you a private bonus to make up for it.”
I pulled my arm back. I sat through the entire presentation in silence.
Seven years of marriage. This was what I got. He was using my blood and sweat to pave someone else’s path.
The sports car. The partner title. Whoever wanted them could have them. I was done.
***
The roadshow wrapped.
Mr. Chandler, the client-side representative, glanced at Emily on stage. She looked barely out of college. His brow furrowed.
“Andrew, Catherine’s been our point of contact for two weeks. Why is this young lady listed as the project lead now?”
Andrew Shaw’s expression didn’t flicker. He offered a polished smile.
“Emily did put this proposal together. She’s fresh out of school, but she’s sharp.”
“Catherine was supervising the whole way through, of course. That’s why she handled the initial meetings.”
“You were impressed with the proposal. Who signs it won’t affect our ongoing partnership.”
Mr. Chandler seemed to accept this. He nodded, faintly reassured.
“I see. The new generation does show promise. The proposal was solid. We’re very satisfied.”
The contracts were signed smoothly.
The conference room emptied. Soon, only Andrew and I remained.
I stopped gathering my things. My voice was level. “That little speech you just gave. Why didn’t you discuss it with me first?”
For this $300 million deal, I’d survived on three hours of sleep a night for fifteen straight days. I’d torn apart every financial model, every valuation analysis, obsessing over them until they were bulletproof.
And now, all of it belonged to her. A new hire who’d done absolutely nothing.
Andrew rubbed his temples. He looked annoyed, like my question was some petty inconvenience.
“Catherine, Emily just graduated. She needs a standout resume to survive on Wall Street.”
“In that situation, I couldn’t exactly correct it in front of the client and raise suspicion. I had to roll with it.”
The same script.
I looked at his face, that self-righteous expression, and didn’t push further.
I’d only ever wanted an answer about where we stood. Now I had it.
My silence must have registered as unusual. Andrew’s voice softened.
“Alright. Don’t be mad. When this commission clears, I’ll get you that Corvette. The one you’ve been talking about forever.”
“Consider it a peace offering. Okay?”
I glanced at him. I gathered my files in silence, turned, and walked back to my office.
He watched me go. He probably figured the sports car had already smoothed things over.
I’d barely sat down when Emily appeared at my desk, a pumpkin spice latte in her hands.
Her eyes stung with tears. She clutched the cup like an offering. Loud enough for the entire office to hear, she said, “Catherine, I thought Andrew had talked to you first… If this really bothers you, I’ll email the client right now and have the name changed back. I swear, I don’t want to cause problems between you two…”
I kept my eyes fixed on my Bloomberg terminal. I didn’t give her a single glance.
When I ignored her, Emily bit her lip. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
The commotion was perfectly timed. Andrew walked out of his office and heard every word.
He strode over, his jaw tight, looking at me.
“Catherine, Emily’s already apologized. What more do you want?”
“You’re a senior partner. Where’s your team spirit? Mentoring juniors is part of the job. Do you really feel so insecure that you have to take it out on a girl fresh out of college? I already said you’re getting the full commission.”
Watching him defend another woman, so fiercely, so reflexively, I felt something twist inside me. Something almost like a laugh.
For seven years, no matter how vicious the short-sellers got, he’d always stood by me.
We were an unbreakable unit. A team. A couple in love.
Now, because of Emily, he’d decided I was “petty” and “deeply unprofessional.”
If that was his verdict, there was nothing left to argue about.