Chapter 4 - The Corporate Audit
By noon that day, the entire corporate structure of Meridian Crest Development was spinning in a state of absolute, unprecedented shock.
Maya Ellis was not cleaning the forty-second floor anymore.
Instead, she sat in the grand executive antechamber, staring in disbelief at a thick leather-bound folder sitting on the polished glass table in front of her. Across from her sat Arthur, the senior vice president, sweating profusely through his collar as he nervously shuffled a stack of certified corporate documents.
“Ms. Ellis,” Arthur began, his voice trembling with obsequious politeness that made Maya want to laugh. “Per... per the direct instructions of Ms. Vance herself, all outstanding university lab fees and tuition accounts for your brother, Lucas Ellis, have been paid in full directly to the university endowment fund. Furthermore...” He paused, swallowing hard. “...Ms. Vance has executed a special executive directive.”
Maya looked up sharply from the folder. “What kind of directive?”
Arthur slid a single sheet of heavy cream-colored paper across the glass. “An unconditional, equity-free commercial development grant of two million, five hundred thousand dollars, awarded directly to you under the newly established Vance-Ellis Community Culinary Initiative.”
Maya stared at the numbers. Two million and five hundred thousand dollars.
“This... this is a mistake,” Maya breathed, her hands shaking as she touched the paper. “I’m a custodial worker. I clean your floors.”
“You were a custodial worker, Ms. Ellis,” Arthur corrected hastily, offering a wide, terrified smile. “Effective immediately, Ms. Vance has appointed you as the Director of Urban Community Outreach and Hospitality Development for Meridian Crest, reporting directly to her office. Your starting salary is one hundred and eighty thousand dollars a year.”
Maya sat back in her leather chair, completely overwhelmed. Her mind flashed back to the freezing bus shelter just sixteen hours ago—to the rain, the cheap Styrofoam box, the fourteen dollars left in her checking account, and the old woman eating rice off a cardboard lid.
Before she could process the sheer magnitude of the change, the heavy oak doors to Beatrice Vance’s private office clicked open.
Beatrice stepped out, wearing her tailored navy blazer, holding a porcelain mug of dark, steaming coffee. She looked at Maya with an amused, knowing smirk.
“Well, Maya,” Beatrice said, walking over and setting the coffee mug down on the table. “Is the coffee strong enough to restart a heart?”
Maya looked up at the billionaire matriarch, a slow, radiant smile breaking across her face. She stood up, brushing down her clothes.
May you like
“It’ll do, Ms. Vance,” Maya replied steadily. “It’ll definitely do.”
“Good,” Beatrice said, her eyes flashing with approval. “Because tomorrow morning, we’re touring three commercial downtown storefronts. I want to see where you plan to build the best fried chicken and biscuit joint in the Carolinas.”
