Chapter 3My Former Boss Called Me to Work Overtime After I'd Quit

This year, I was going to live differently.

I walked through the doors of Newfield Group, my former company's client.

The receptionist already recognized me. She smiled when she saw me.

"Evan! You're here. Mr. Cole is waiting for you in his office."

Marcus Cole's office was at the end of the hall, and the door was open.

He was looking at something on his computer. When he heard me knock, he looked up and smiled.

"Evan, you're here. Have a seat."

I sat down across from him.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you," he said, getting straight to the point.

I sat up a little straighter. "Of course."

"You remember that project from before the holidays? The $1.2 million contract with your former company."

Of course I remembered it.

It was the project I'd spent countless sleepless nights on, revising over and over, only for Kevin to walk onto the stage and accept the award for it.

Marcus continued, "The project is ready for final acceptance. I was originally going to send someone else, but then I thought about it. You handled it from beginning to end. No one knows it better than you do."

"So I'd like you to go over there," he said, looking at me. "Head to your former company this morning and conduct the final acceptance."

I met his straightforward gaze.

I recalled the day I resigned, when Hannah Hayes had barely glanced at my resignation letter before setting it aside.

I recalled Kevin standing onstage accepting my award, his eyes red as he thanked everyone.

I recalled Ryan telling me my $40 year-end bonus was because I wasn't a team player.

And I recalled all the calls that morning. First came the orders, then the threats and sweet talk, until finally they dissolved into furious insults.

"Sure. I'll head over right away." I smiled. "Besides, I'd like to see how their first day back is going."

After leaving Marcus's office, I went to HR to complete my onboarding.

At the end, the HR representative handed me my employee badge.

It read:

Project Director: Evan Young

I returned to my desk and had barely sat down when Hannah called.

Over the past seven years, that number had appeared on my phone more times than I could count. Late-night calls demanding urgent work. Weekend orders to go into the office. Last-minute assignments while I was traveling.

I'd answered these demands immediately every single time.

"Yes, Ms. Hayes."

"I'm on my way, Ms. Hayes."

"No problem, Ms. Hayes."

This time, I picked up.

"Evan Young!" she snapped. "You've got some nerve! Ignoring calls, refusing to answer messages, blocking everyone! What? You think you're too good for us now?

"I'm warning you, don't push your luck!" The angrier she got, the louder her voice became.

"If you don't show up today, I'll mark you absent without leave and fire you! I'll make sure it's on your employment record and see what company would dare hire you after that!"

Fire me.

I sneered inwardly.

"Ms. Hayes," I said evenly, "I'll be at your company shortly."

The smugness in her voice was impossible to miss.

"Hmph. At least you know what's good for you. Hurry up. I'm waiting."

When Marcus first reached out to me before the holidays, I hadn't accepted his offer right away.

But after Kevin took credit for my work at the annual company party and I was handed a pathetic $40 year-end bonus, I lay awake until six the next morning and finally came to a realization.

That company had never been a place where ability mattered.

All it could offer me was more work, more blame, and more years spent grinding away unnoticed in some corner.

And when all that hard work finally paid off, the people standing onstage accepting the awards would always be the ones who knew how to play the game.

That very night, I decided to resign and join the client company.

Coming back to the present, I stood and hung my new badge around my neck.

I wondered what their faces would look like when I walked into my old company as the client this time.

I was actually looking forward to it.

The cab stopped outside the familiar office building.

I pushed through the doors.

Nothing had changed.

I had barely made it a few steps inside when Ryan walked over with a cup of tea in his hand.

"Evan Young, and here I thought you actually had some backbone," he said, stopping in front of me and looking me up and down. "The way you talked on the phone this morning, I thought you were off to bigger and better things."

He gave me a mocking look.

"So what happened? Thought you'd spread your wings, only to come right back?"