After about two weeks, I finally answered one of his calls.
“We need to talk about this,” he said. “About us.”
“There isn’t much to talk about,” I said. I kept my voice even. “Your mother made her choice. You made yours when you didn’t fight her.”
“What was I supposed to do, Liv? She’s the CEO. She’s my mother.”
“You were supposed to stand up for what was right, Daniel. Just once in your life. You were supposed to stand up to her.”
He was quiet for a long time.
“Is that why you won’t sign the severance agreement? To punish me?”
I almost laughed. He still didn’t understand.
“No, Daniel. I’m not signing because I don’t need their money. And very soon, they’re going to need something from me a lot more than I need anything from them.”
“What are you talking about? Liv, you’re starting to sound like my mother.”
“Maybe she taught me more than she realized,” I said.
And I hung up.
Three months after I was pushed out, Bennett Technologies made their big announcement.
Victoria gathered the press, the analysts, and dozens of major investors for a special launch presentation in the auditorium on the ground floor of their headquarters. The underwriters for the IPO were there. Two of the big Wall Street banks. Reporters from Bloomberg, Reuters, and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
I watched the livestream from a conference room at Carter & Associates, with a cup of coffee going cold in my hands.
Victoria walked out onto that stage in her signature charcoal power suit with a red silk scarf. She looked magnificent. She always did.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began. Her voice was confident and clear. “Today marks a new chapter in the history of Bennett Technologies. Under the brilliant leadership of our new head of research and development, Margaret Phillips, we are preparing to launch a product line that will change the face of cardiac care forever.”
The presentation was slick. A video of a smiling grandmother wearing a tiny patch on her chest, playing with her grandkids in a park, while her cardiologist watched her heart rhythm on an iPad across town. Market projections. A hundred and forty million dollars in first-year revenue. Six hospital systems already signed up for pilot programs.
Margaret stood beside Victoria, glowing, while they held up the prototypes.
My prototypes. My sensor. My design. Down to the little curved notch at the top of the patch that I’d added because my own mother had trouble peeling Band-Aids.
Marcus glanced over at me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re gripping that cup like it owes you money.”
I set it down.
Ethan Blake is a skilled Creative Content Specialist with a talent for crafting engaging and thought-provoking narratives. With a strong background in storytelling and digital content creation, Ethan brings a unique perspective to his role at TheArchivists, where he curates and produces captivating content for a global audience.
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