Her Boss Kissed Her at an Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding—Then She Discovered the Real Reason He Invited Her Was to Expose a Multi-Million Dollar Corporate Conspiracy!

By Wednesday afternoon, the fallout from Zoe’s termination and the exposure of Preston Hale’s data theft had hit the regional business community like a thunderclap.

As it turned out, venture capital firms don't like investing in startups that are currently under federal investigation for industrial espionage. Within forty-eight hours of receiving our legal notice, the primary financial backers behind Hale Media Group pulled their funding, issuing a public statement distancing themselves from Preston’s business practices.

By Thursday morning, Preston's newly launched agency was already facing three separate breach-of-contract lawsuits from clients who realized he had stolen their proprietary strategies from Vale House.

In our agency conference room, the mood was electric.

""I still can't believe she managed to hide it for six months,"" Liam, one of our senior graphic designers, said as he set down a fresh batch of campaign mockups on the table. ""Zoe always seemed so organized.""

""Organized criminals usually do,"" I remarked, earning a quiet laugh from around the room.

Meredith stood at the head of the table, looking every bit the victorious founder. The dark circles under her eyes from the weekend stress were gone, replaced by a vibrant, focused energy that commanded the entire room.

""Alright, team,"" Meredith said, clapping her hands lightly once. ""We have forty-eight hours to finalize the rebranding deck for the Providence Restaurant Association before our pitch on Monday. And this time, no one uses the phrase 'controlled substance' in the copy.""

Everyone turned and looked at me.

I raised my hands in mock surrender. ""I stand by my original assessment. Pancakes are serious business.""

""Meeting adjourned,"" Meredith said with a small smile.

As the staff filtered out of the conference room, chatting and laughing, Meredith lingered behind, gathering her notes. I stayed leaning against the glass whiteboard, watching her with a quiet fondness that hadn't faded an inch since we touched down from Rhode Island.

""You know,"" Meredith said without looking up from her papers, ""you're getting entirely too comfortable making jokes during executive meetings.""

""It's part of my new contract negotiations,"" I said, pushing off the whiteboard and walking over to her side of the table. ""Senior copywriter plus unofficial corporate investigator and romantic distraction. The pay scale needs adjusting.""

Meredith finally looked up, her gray-green eyes sparkling with amusement. ""Is that so? And what compensation package did you have in mind?""

I stopped just inches from her, my hands sliding into my pockets. ""Dinner tonight. Somewhere without Wi-Fi, without client decks, and absolutely no discussion of pancakes.""