Chapter 17 - Evan’s Downfall at the Firm
While fireworks exploded over the Colosseum to welcome the New Year in Rome, the temperature in Manhattan was twelve degrees, biting and bitter.
Evan Bennett stood on the sidewalk outside the Park Avenue headquarters of Kane & Vance, shivering inside an old coat he had retrieved from the back of his closet.
His corporate keycard was dead.
His email access was revoked.
His name had already been scrubbed from the firm’s website.
Two security guards stood behind the heavy glass doors of the lobby, watching him with crossed arms, under strict orders not to let him set foot on the premises.
The revolving door swung open, and Marcus Kane’s senior associate, a young woman Evan had spent three years belittling and giving his coffee orders to, walked out onto the pavement.
She held a single, taped cardboard box containing the personal items from his former corner office.
“Evan,” she said coldly, setting the box on the concrete at his feet.
Evan lunged forward. “Sarah! Sarah, please! Did Marcus get back from Rome? Did he see Claire? Did she sign the copyright releases?”
Sarah looked at him with pure disgust.
“Marcus went to Rome, Evan,” Sarah said. “And Claire had the Italian police threaten to arrest him if he came within fifty feet of her.”
Evan’s knees buckled. He grabbed the edge of a concrete planter to keep from falling. “No… no, she wouldn't do that. Claire loves this family. She’s just angry. She’s just lashing out.”
“She’s not lashing out, Evan,” Sarah said, pulling an envelope from her coat pocket and dropping it on top of the box. “She sold the European licensing rights for her architectural designs to an Italian restoration trust for four million euros this morning. She signed the paperwork with Arthur Vance’s international partners.”
Evan stared at the envelope. “What does that mean?”
“It means your Stamford project is officially dead,” Sarah replied, her voice razor-sharp. “Kane & Vance had to write off forty-two million dollars in anticipated profits. The board held an emergency meeting at midnight. They voted unanimously to refer your case to the United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York for criminal wire fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny.”
Evan began to shake, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. “Sarah… I have no money. My father’s accounts are frozen. The bank took my Audi. Where am I supposed to go?”
Sarah looked down at him, her eyes as cold as the January wind whipping through the concrete canyons of Park Avenue.
“Item fourteen on your father’s Christmas list,” Sarah said quietly. “You remember that list, Evan? The one Melissa sent to every partner in the firm?”
Evan looked up, tears freezing on his cheeks.
“Item fourteen,” Sarah repeated. “*‘Clean up your own mess when you’re done playing.’* Good luck, Evan.”
May you like
She turned on her heel and walked back inside the warm, brightly lit tower, the heavy glass doors sliding shut behind her, sealing Evan Bennett out in the freezing dark.
***