He Refused Her Hand, Not Knowing She Held His Company’s Future

“That’s not really what everyone is interested in.”

Olivia let the words settle.

Around her, several men avoided her eyes.

A white man in a navy suit entered the room late.

Leonard sprang up again.

“Alan,” he said, smiling wide now. “Glad you made it.”

He walked over and shook Alan’s hand with enthusiasm, both hands, even, the kind of greeting reserved for equals.

Then he turned back toward Olivia.

Their eyes met.

He saw her noticing.

And instead of correcting himself, he chose to deepen the cut.

He placed both hands behind his back.

“I don’t shake hands with staff,” he said.

The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

Olivia held his gaze.

Twenty years of boardrooms flickered behind her eyes.

Being mistaken for the assistant when she was the one closing the deal.

Being asked to fetch copies in a meeting she had called.

Watching younger, less prepared men receive the respect she had to bleed for.

This was not new.

That was the tragedy.

That was also why she had stopped letting it pass.

Without hurry, Olivia reached into her bag and pulled out her phone beneath the table.

She typed one word.

Execute.

Then she stood.