This is all your fault, she practically screeched. You’ve ruined the most important day of my life because your feelings got hurt over a stupid table. Tiffany, that’s enough.
Richard Bradford’s authoritative voice cut through his daughter’s tirade. He approached the car with measured steps, his expression unreadable. Miss Powell, I think there’s been a serious miscommunication today.
There’s been no miscommunication, Mr. Bradford. Your daughter made it very clear where she thought I belonged. I see.
He glanced at Tiffany, who had the grace to look momentarily abashed. Nevertheless, I think we should discuss this privately as business professionals. The contract between our companies is significant and terminating it so abruptly would have serious consequences for both parties.
I’m aware of the consequences, I replied. My decision stands. Richard’s composed facade cracked slightly.
You’re willing to throw away $30 million over a seating arrangement? I’m willing to walk away from a business relationship where I’m not respected. The money is secondary. A flash of something that might have been respect crossed Richard’s face before he schooled his features back to neutrality.
I see. Well, my legal team will be in touch regarding the termination procedures. I’ll have my team ready to facilitate a smooth transition.
I assured him. Despite everything, I don’t want your operations to suffer unnecessarily. This professional exchange seemed to infuriate Tiffany even more.
Daddy, you can’t just let her do this. She’s trying to ruin us because she’s jealous of what Scott and I have. Richard turned to his daughter with a sharpness I hadn’t seen before.
Tiffany, you’ve done quite enough for one day. Go back inside and attend to our guests. We’ll discuss this later.
As Tiffany stormed off, followed by my parents, Richard leaned closer to my window. For what it’s worth, he said quietly, I had no idea about the seating situation. Had I known, I would have intervened.
Thank you for saying that, I replied. But it doesn’t change my decision. He nodded once, straightening.
I understand. And while I disagree with your choice from a business perspective, I can’t say I don’t admire your principles. He extended his hand.
Good day, Ms. Powell. I shook his hand briefly before putting the car in drive. Scott remained standing in the driveway, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief as we pulled away.
That was intense, Marcus commented as we turned onto the main road. Are you okay? I took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the day begin to ease from my shoulders. Honestly, I feel better than I have in years.
Like I’ve finally stopped carrying a weight I didn’t even realize I was bearing. The weight of seeking their approval, Marcus suggested. Exactly.
I glanced in the rearview mirror at the Bradford Estate receding in the distance. I spent so long trying to prove myself to people who were never going to see my value. Today, I finally sought for myself.
So what now? Marcus asked. Besides finding a place with excellent food and proper seating arrangements. I laughed, a genuine laugh that surprised me with its lightness.
Now we rebuild. Nexus will be fine without the Bradford contract. We have other clients, other opportunities.
And I have something I never fully had before. What’s that? Self-respect, I replied simply. And it turns out that’s worth more than $30 million.
The first email arrived at 6.43 AM Monday morning. By the time I walked into the Nexus Technologies office at 8, my inbox contained 17 messages from various executives at Bradford Enterprises, ranging from apologetic to desperate. Eleanor Wright had sent three alone, each more urgent than the last.
Good morning, Sarah. I greeted my assistant as I passed her desk. I assume you’ve seen the email situation? Sarah nodded, her expression concerned.
It’s been nonstop since before I arrived. Eleanor Wright has called twice already. She sounds stressed.
And Mr. Bradford himself called five minutes ago, asking when you’d be available to speak with him. Schedule a call with Eleanor for 10 o’clock. As for Richard Bradford, tell him I’m in meetings all day, but can speak with him tomorrow afternoon.
Tomorrow? Sarah’s eyebrows rose. He seemed to think it was rather urgent. I’m sure he did, I replied mildly.
But I need time to prepare our transition plan with the team before I discuss anything with him. I had just settled at my desk when Gregory Phillips, our chief operating officer, appeared in my doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. So he began leaning against the doorframe.
Want to tell me what happened at your brother’s wedding that resulted in you canceling our biggest contract to date? I gestured for him to close the door and take a seat. It’s a long story, but the short version is that Bradford Enterprises, or more specifically the Bradford family, demonstrated that they don’t respect me or this company. I decided we shouldn’t be doing business with people who don’t value us properly.
Gregory whistled low. That must have been some wedding. You have no idea, I replied, briefly recounting the kitchen incident and the subsequent confrontation.
When I finished, Gregory was silent for a moment. I’d like to say I’m shocked, but after everything you’ve told me about your family over the years, it unfortunately tracks. The question now is how we move forward, I said, refocusing on the business implications.
The Bradford contract represented about 22% of our projected annual revenue. We need to make up that shortfall. Already working on it, Gregory assured me.
That demonstration we did for Westfield Partners last month? They’ve been on the fence about implementing our system, but I think with a small incentive, we could lock them in. It wouldn’t completely replace Bradford, but it would help soften the blow. Make it happen, I authorized.
And let’s accelerate the timeline on the international expansion. The European market has been showing interest, and without the Bradford implementation taking up resources, we could redirect some of our team there. Our conversation was interrupted by Sarah buzzing my intercom.
Vanessa, I have Thomas Harrington from Coastal Development on Line 1. He says it’s regarding a potential contract. I exchanged a surprised look with Gregory. Thomas Harrington, from the wedding.
Want me to give you some privacy? Gregory offered, starting to rise. No, stay. I want her input on this.
I press the speaker button. Mr. Harrington, this is Vanessa Powell. Miss Powell, thank you for taking my call.
I hope I’m not interrupting your morning. Not at all. What can I do for you? Well, after our brief interaction at the Bradford-Powell wedding, I took the liberty of researching Nexus Technologies more thoroughly.
I’m quite impressed with what you’ve built, and I believe Coastal Development could benefit significantly from your supply chain management system. I maintained a professional tone despite my surprise. I appreciate your interest, Mr. Harrington.
We’d be happy to arrange a demonstration of our software at your convenience. Excellent. And there’s one more thing.
I understand your relationship with Bradford Enterprises. Maybe… Concluding. Coastal Development has been considering a partnership with them on several projects, but after witnessing Saturday’s events, I’m reconsidering whether they’re the right fit for our corporate culture.
Gregory’s eyes widened, and I had to suppress a smile. I see. Well, Mr. Harrington, while I can’t comment on Bradford’s corporate culture, I can assure you that at Nexus, we value professionalism and respect in all our business relationships.
That was evident from how you handled a rather difficult situation, he replied. I’ll have my assistant coordinate with yours for that demonstration. Looking forward to it, Ms. Powell.
After ending the call, Gregory let out a low whistle. Well, that was unexpected. What exactly happened at this wedding? Let’s just say it made an impression on several people, I replied, still processing this development.
We should prepare our best presentation for Coastal. Their property portfolio is even larger than Bradford’s. By lunchtime, news of the contract cancellation had spread through the company.
While I hadn’t shared the personal details, the senior team understood that something significant had occurred to prompt such a drastic decision. To their credit, no one questioned my judgment, instead focusing on solutions and next steps. My 10 o’clock call with Eleanor had been difficult, but professional.
She was understandably upset about losing a system her team had spent months implementing, but her anger seemed directed more at the situation than at me personally. For what it’s worth, she’d said near the end of our conversation, I had no idea about the seating incident until Richard told me this morning. It was completely unprofessional and inappropriate.
I appreciate that, Eleanor. And I want you to know this isn’t a reflection on your team’s work with us. You’ve been excellent partners throughout the implementation process.
Is there any way we could salvage this? She asked. Perhaps with different terms or conditions? I don’t think so. I replied honestly.
Some lines, once crossed, can’t be uncrossed. But I promise we’ll do everything possible to ensure a smooth transition to whatever system you choose next. At 3 o’clock, my personal cell phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize.
Normally, I would let it go to voicemail, but something prompted me to answer. Vanessa Powell speaking. Vanessa, this is Diana Powell.
Your aunt. Your father’s sister. I was momentarily speechless.
Aunt Diana had been estranged from our family for nearly 20 years, following some disagreement with my father that was never fully explained to us children. Aunt Diana, this is unexpected. How did you get my number? I have my ways, she replied with a hint of amusement.
And I’ve been keeping tabs on you from a distance. Your success with Nexus is impressive, though not surprising to me. You always were the smart one.
Thank you, I said. Still confused by this sudden contact. But why are you calling now after all these years? Because I heard about what happened at Scott’s wedding, she replied simply.
Word travels fast in certain circles, and the Bradford family is nothing if not well-connected. Oh, I said, not sure how to respond. And you called to? To tell you I’m proud of you, she said firmly.
Standing up to the Powell family tradition of favoring the male heir over the female innovator. It’s about time someone broke that cycle. What do you mean? Diana sighed, a sound heavy with old wounds.
Vanessa, why do you think I haven’t spoken to your father in 20 years? It’s the same story, different generation. I built a successful interior design firm in the 80s, when women weren’t exactly welcomed in the construction industry. Your grandfather and father decided my business was a cute hobby and gave the family construction company entirely to your father, even though I had worked there every summer and holiday since I was 16.