He Chose His Mistress, So I Chose Justice

1: 1

My forty-million-dollar contract had been sitting on the receptionist's desk for a full week, held up by the boss's well-connected niece.

The client's legal team finally ran out of patience and sent over a formal letter, saying they wanted to reassess the terms of the partnership.

I took the printed letter straight to Nathan Matthews, our VP and my boyfriend.

"Are you sure you want to keep covering for her? If this deal falls through, can you carry that?"

He barely glanced at it. "I already talked to Evelyn Randall on Monday. She's just swamped. A director like you hounding the front desk every five minutes, doesn't that look pathetic? I'll go ask her again."

But in the end he came back empty-handed, and Evelyn even posted a jab on her social media feed.

"Some people forget to mail their own contracts, then pin it on the front desk. Shameless."

And my boyfriend, Nathan, actually liked the post.

I decided to stop chasing her. Three days left on the deadline, and I didn't send a single reminder.

Until this morning, when the client's CEO called our boss himself. "Mr. Chavez, do you people not want my account anymore?"

The boss pulled the security footage and called everyone into the conference room.

Evelyn burst into tears, screaming that she was being framed.

I opened my phone and cast it to the screen. "Mr. Chavez, would you rather start with the front desk footage, or listen to a recorded call?"

1.

Half an hour later, Nathan pushed the office door open, hands in his pockets. "She said she'll dig it up for you this afternoon. Just wait a bit longer."

I kept my eyes on him. I wanted an answer. "This afternoon, what time?"

"Why are you in such a rush?"

He circled behind the desk and sat down. "She said she'll find it, so she'll find it. A director standing over the front desk nagging, how do you think that plays if it gets around?"

I pushed the printed letter across to him.

"Come on. The client's legal team sent a formal letter demanding a reassessment of the whole partnership. The contract's about to collapse and you're not worried?"

He glanced at it without picking it up, then let out a little laugh. "Does worrying help?"

"It's a day or two late. What client actually cares? You think a forty-million account is like buying groceries, drop it whenever you feel like it?"

I drew a slow breath. "The contract's been sitting there for a week, Nathan."

For a whole week Evelyn had acted like her one mission in life was to work against me, flat-out refusing to hand over the documents.

"She's the boss's niece. Complaining to me does nothing. She'll just turn around and call the boss, and you'll be the one left looking bad."

He said it like he was soothing a child in a tantrum. "Listen to me, give it one more day, I'll chase it for you."

I was about to press him again when my eyes caught on the collar of his shirt.

On the outside of the collar was a faint mark of dusty-rose lipstick.

When he left the house this morning, that collar had been perfectly clean.

Seeing me go quiet, Nathan came around, slid an arm around my waist, and coaxed, "Don't be mad, okay? I'll make it up to you properly tonight when we get home."

As he leaned in, I caught the smell of milk tea, mixed with a peachy perfume, sweet to the point of cloying.

One whiff was enough to place it, the shop downstairs, the one where the lunch line was always the front-desk girls.

Something inside me caught with a click, stuck halfway, neither up nor down.

Nathan and I had been together over a year now.

The company had no rule against office romance, but Nathan always said it looked bad and suggested we keep it quiet.

I agreed.

At the time I thought he was thinking about our future.

Looking back now, that "looks bad" might have meant something else entirely from the very start.

Evelyn was the boss's niece.

The whole company knew it.

She was only a receptionist, but no one in the entire sales department dared to cross her.

Her food deliveries always somehow made it to her desk, carried over by someone else.

Even on her birthday, one of the department heads had a two-tier cake ordered and delivered to the front desk just for her.

Sales had packages going out or coming in every single day, and all of it depended on her mood.

If she was happy, she handled it that day. If she wasn't, she sat on it for three.

I never bothered kissing up to her. I was slammed every day, who had time for all that maneuvering?

What I never expected was that Nathan would end up tangled up with her.

Once I saw that, Evelyn's baffling hostility toward me started to make a strange kind of sense.

"Fine. I'll wait. You keep chasing it."

I slid the letter back into my folder.

Nathan let out a breath, and his tone turned light at once. "Now you're being reasonable. It's not a big deal, stop blowing everything out of proportion."

"What do you want for dinner? I'll book a table."

"We'll see."

I pushed the door open and left.

At three that afternoon, I went to the break room for water. The door was cracked open, two or three people inside.

Then Evelyn's voice drifted out. "She's just a salesperson, isn't she? Please. Slap 'director' on the title and she thinks she's something."

"Chasing it up every single day, ugh, isn't she exhausting?"

Evelyn's voice went sugary and petulant. "Honestly, Nathan, I don't know how you put up with her. If you ask me, Director Cobb is nothing but a gossipy old busybody."

Hearing me torn apart like that, Nathan didn't say a word in my defense.

Instead he laughed, playing up to her. "She's getting on in years, she's no match for you. Don't fight with her, she's not worth ruining your health over."

Hearing that, I lost all interest in going in.

2: 2

2.

Back at my desk, I opened the laptop. The wallpaper was still a photo of me and Nathan.

I selected it, right-clicked, and replaced it.

Then I wiped everything else.

That night, just out of the shower, Evelyn's post came up in my feed.

The picture was a shot of the mail shelf, the caption dripping with self-pity: "Some people can't find their own contract and have to blame the front desk. Chased me eight times in a week. Do I owe you something?"

Nathan had liked it.

I took a screenshot.

Something heavy dropped in my chest.

Before I could even think of how to hit back, the next morning, before I'd even reached my desk, I heard Evelyn's voice carrying across the floor, thick with triumph.

"My uncle says the front desk reports straight to me now. Anything you people need, come to me first."

She twirled a pen between her fingers. "Some people, always going on about their contracts. Like they actually close deals worth millions."

"What have they sold all year?"

The whole office laughed right on cue.

I didn't slow down. I turned straight into the IT department.

Dirk Lawrence, an employee I'd helped out before, looked up. "Ms. Cobb, what's up?"

"The front desk keeps missing client calls. Enable call recording for me, would you? Makes it easier to catch what got dropped, and easier to trace complaints."

"Sure, no problem."

A few clicks in the back-end system and he was done. "There. Calls record automatically now, and you can pull anything from the last month."

"Thanks. Don't mention it to anyone."

Dirk blinked. "Got it. I don't know a thing."

Back at my desk, I opened my inbox. An unread email popped up.

It was the client I'd been working for three months. Eight hundred thousand. Not a huge sum, but I'd driven out to their office four times and reworked the quote three times.

The body of the email went through me cold.

"Ms. Cobb, we never received the signed original of the contract. Another firm offered better terms, so we signed with them. Thank you for these months of follow-up. We'll work together again if the chance comes."

I checked the tracking.

Three days ago it read "received by front desk."

Evelyn again.

I marched up to the front desk.

She was bent over painting her nails, peach pink, doing it carefully. When I slapped the printed email down on the desk, she didn't so much as flinch.

"Evelyn, this client's signed original came in three days ago. Where did you put it?"

She blew on her nails and drew out her words. "Oh. That."

"I don't have any contract here. I cleared out everything that was supposed to be cleared."

Then she leaned over and glanced at the company name on the email and smiled. "Oh, this one! I might've tossed it as scrap paper. The cleaning lady probably took it. Or you could go check the dumpster."

My nails dug into my palm as I fought the urge to strangle her.

"Evelyn, you've got nerve."

That afternoon the boss called me into his office and tore into me.

"Three months on this client and now you're telling me it's gone? Where's the contract? Last step of the whole thing and you drop it?"

"And you want to run that forty-million account? I'm telling you, Cheryl, one more slip on that one and you can go wherever you want, because you won't be working here."

I stood in front of his desk and didn't say a word in my defense.

By the time I got back to my desk it was nearly quitting time, and Evelyn showed up carrying a little cake.

"Oh, so sorry, Director Cobb, I didn't realize you were still here, didn't get one for you! After the reaming you got this afternoon, I figured you'd been let go."

Alex at the next desk laughed first. "Evie, you're so sweet, thinking of us."

"Of course. Paid out of my own pocket, too. Not like some people, who lose a contract and still have the face to come back and sit at their desk. Me, I'd have packed up and left already. Think how much trouble it causes the company."

Someone chimed in. "Maybe when you get older your skin gets thicker. Chewed out by the boss and doesn't even change expression. Me, I'd have found a crack to crawl into."

Evelyn went on. "Anyway, some people won't be around much longer. One more problem with that forty-million deal and whoever's responsible walks. The air in here will get a lot fresher after that."

I finished the last of my slides and shut down the laptop.

When I picked up my bag and stood, Evelyn hurried after me. "Take care, Director Cobb. Don't be late tomorrow!"

Stepping into the elevator, my heart went quiet all at once.

Those words used to sting. Now I'd heard them and found they couldn't stir a ripple.

A real winner has no appetite for scoring cheap points.

I got home at eight. Nathan was already waiting in the living room.

He saw me come in, stood, took a couple of steps toward me, and reached out to pull me in. I turned aside on instinct and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

He followed and leaned against the kitchen doorframe.

"You're not seriously mad at me over a package, are you? That eight-hundred-thousand contract, you never reminded me. It's not like I refused to help you chase it."

I finished the water and set the glass on the counter, but brought up something else.

"Nathan, that post of Evelyn's. You liked it."

"So what?"

He gave a short laugh, like I was being ridiculous. "She's just a kid. She posts something, I can't exactly ignore it. What does one like prove?"

"You can't see she was taking a dig at me? Why won't you take my side?"

Nathan spread his hands. "How old are you two, exactly?"

"Who goes around with their ears pricked, listening in on people? Besides, let her talk. Just ignore her and that's the end of it. She's a receptionist. Why get into it with her?"

I looked at him. "Right, I don't want to get into it either. But what about her? Because she threw a little tantrum, that contract died today. I worked it for a full three months."

He frowned. "So it fell through, so what? You've still got that forty-million one, don't you? Can't you focus on the big and let the small go?"

"It's a measly eight hundred thousand!"

3: 3

3.

I let out a cold laugh. "Right. Eight hundred grand. And if Evelyn keeps sitting on that contract, eight hundred grand won't be all I lose."

"Then go take it up with the boss. What's yelling at me going to do? I asked her for you, I chased her for you. If she won't do it, what am I supposed to do, hold her head down and flip through the mail rack for you? Cheryl, can you be reasonable for once?"

I drew a slow breath. "I'm not being reasonable?"

"Forget everything else, Nathan. We've been together this long. Have you ever once paid this much attention to anything I post?"

Then I walked into the bedroom, shut the door, and stood leaning against it for a long time.

The next morning I sat at my desk and sent Evelyn a message on the company chat app.

"Hi, Evelyn. Regarding the original overseas client contract signed for on October 11, where is it currently being kept? When can it be handed over to Sales? Please reply."

I typed it out one word at a time, then sent it.

Two words popped up on the screen: Read. But ten minutes went by with no reply.

I went back to my reports.

Forty minutes passed. Still just Read. Not even a Got it.

I opened a fresh email, pasted in the same text, put Evelyn's work address in the recipient field, and cc'd myself.

Sent it again.

Read-and-ignored on the chat app, plus sent-with-no-reply by email. Two records stacked on top of each other, enough to prove Evelyn was deliberately refusing to communicate with me.

If she kept ignoring the email, that email would become the most direct evidence there was.

As luck would have it, at two in the afternoon I went to the restroom.

The stall doors were shut. I walked into the one at the far end, and I'd just latched it when Evelyn's voice came from next door.

"I'm telling you, I've got her contract sitting on my desk. Nathan already told me not to worry, so what's she going to do? Go to the boss? The boss is my uncle. What can she do?"

"I just want to make her miserable. She's the one who won't let go of Nathan, and she's always got that holier-than-thou look on her face. Please."

"Just wait. From now on, the second she has to ship anything through us, I'll make her beg me for it."

By the time I pushed the door open, Evelyn was already gone.

Passing the long rack by the front desk, I noticed a new envelope on the mail shelf.

I recognized the client logo printed on the front.

But I didn't touch it. I got my water and went back.

Evelyn stewed on it all afternoon and finally couldn't hold it in by four o'clock.

She came over to my desk. "Hey, why aren't you coming for your own mail anymore? Waiting for us to bring it to you?"

I didn't look up, eyes on my screen.

"No rush."

She let out a laugh. "Oh, so now there's no rush? Weren't you in such a hurry before? Eight times a day, practically moving into the front desk."

I'm no pushover either, so I shot straight back. "What exactly is the front desk here for?"

"I'm the sales director, not your errand girl. Delivering mail is part of the front desk's job. Do I really have to remind you of that?"

Her face flushed. "So you're a director, big deal? You want to lecture me about procedure? If you've got the guts, go take it up with my uncle!"

I nodded with great seriousness. "After your uncle signs for the mail, is he the one who's going to bring it to my desk?"

That left Evelyn too furious to get a word out.

I closed my laptop.

Pushed back my chair, stood, and walked all the way to the front desk.

She trailed after me, heels clacking sharp against the floor.

"Cheryl, what are you up to now?"

I stopped in front of the mail rack. Directly above it was the audio-and-video camera I'd had Dirk turn on, its red light blinking on and off.

4: 4

4.

"Evelyn, I'll ask you one last time. When are you planning to hand me that overseas contract? Forty million. Do you understand what that means?"

Evelyn folded her arms and lifted her chin. "I'm not giving it to you, and nothing you say is going to change that."

I gave a single nod. "Fine."

Once I had her answer in the open, I turned and walked off.

That night I sent Evelyn another message on the company chat app, attaching the company file, the official contract sign-off and routing procedure.

I'd spent days digging for it, and finally found it inside a zip file the administrative center had put out two years back, company seal and all.

The reception mail-handling rules were spelled out in black and white.

"Evelyn, per company policy, once reception signs for a delivery, the sales department must be notified within two hours. Please confirm you've read this file and will follow it going forward."

Evelyn fired back almost instantly.

"Girl, are you obsessed with your job or what? Spamming me with this stuff at night, how annoying. I said I won't give it to you, so I won't. Go ahead and beg me."

I took another screenshot.

There were about six seconds between my message and her reply, not even long enough to finish reading the file.

But that was fine. That attitude was exactly what I wanted.

Early the next morning, the boss's secretary came out and called us in one by one.

By the time I walked into the conference room, Nathan and Evelyn were already there.

"This was sent to me personally by the overseas client."

The boss read it out word for word. "Mr. Chavez, does your company not want this order? The contract was mailed half a month ago. Three times, and nothing came back. My legal team is advising me to switch suppliers."

He set the phone down hard on the table.

"I've looked into how this played out. Evelyn, the original contract was signed for eleven days ago. Why wasn't the sales department notified?"

Evelyn's tears came instantly.

She wiped them with the back of her hand. "I, I never saw that file. I don't know who signed for it. Reception gets so many deliveries, how am I supposed to remember every single one..."

Nathan spoke up right after her.

"Mr. Chavez, reception really is swamped. Dozens of packages a day. Missing one or two is bound to happen."

"How about this. I'll have the administrative center tighten up the process. Let's fix this first, and not let a procedure issue hurt the client relationship."

Mr. Chavez turned to me, his gaze sharp. "Evelyn says she didn't know. What's your response?"

Before I could get a word out, Evelyn jumped in first. "I really never saw that contract!"

"She's over at reception poking around every single day. How do I know she didn't hide the contract on purpose and pin it on me? She's had it out for me for ages, the whole company knows it!"

"I've had it out for you?"

She was so shameless it almost made me laugh. I had to hand it to her, the nerve was impressive.

"Evelyn, the delivery records show you signed for the original contract. Your name is right there in the signature line."

"The courier signed that himself! I sign for so many packages every day, who has time to check names one by one!"

Beside her, Nathan sighed. "Come on, Director Cobb, cool off. There's a real gap in the process here, but you can't push everything onto Evelyn."

"Reception has people coming and going all day. What if someone just walked off with the contract?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Nathan, however you slice it, this is a failure at Evelyn's reception desk. Why do you keep covering for her?"

"Or is it that you all assume I don't have any proof?"

The room went quiet for a few seconds.

Mr. Chavez tapped the table. "Director Cobb, are you saying you have proof?"

Evelyn craned her neck and shouted too: "If you've got proof, show it! You can't frame me with empty words!"

I opened the screen share on my phone. The first thing up was the screenshot of my chat with Evelyn from last night.

"First, I confirmed the procedure with her directly."

I swiped to the next page.

"And there's one more thing."

"Mr. Chavez, would you like to see the reception footage first, or hear a recording first?"

The boss was silent for two seconds, then said: "Play both."

I opened the audio file.

"Hello, this is overseas legal. I wanted to check whether your company received the sealed contract we mailed last week. We still haven't gotten a signed copy back."

Then came Evelyn's lazy voice: "Contract stuff, take it to sales! Why are you coming to me?"

Evelyn shot to her feet, the chair legs screeching across the floor.

"I don't know anything about that recording! It has to be fake! And even if it's real, what gives you the right to record me! That's not legal!"