2: 2

2.

To keep it from spreading, Sylvia muted the chat for ten minutes.

"Polly, filing a police report — isn't that a little much?"

"We're all coworkers here. You just got confirmed, don't make a scene like this."

"Polly, Zachery meant well."

Reading Sylvia's private messages, I felt myself go colder by the second.

Every line made excuses for Zachery.

Every line hinted I had a sugar daddy.

"Meant well? Sylvia, if he'd said that about you, would you be talking like this?"

The other end went quiet. But not for long.

Then the messages came at me in a rush.

"Why would he say that about me? I don't chase sugar daddies, I don't sell myself, so he'd have nothing on me."

"You, though, Polly — fresh out of school, driving a luxury car, carrying an LV bag. Is that really your own money you're spending?"

"Stand straight and you don't fear a crooked shadow. But you don't stand straight."

"Sylvia, do you have proof? If you do, show it. If you don't, shut your mouth."

The grievance of my past life and today's anger fused into one.

I hammered at the keyboard.

Once she stopped coming at me, I saved the whole exchange.

Straight into the private folder on my desktop where I kept the evidence.

No. Not on my own.

I couldn't let this pack of people who'd smeared me get off without a lesson.

I stepped into the break room and called my cousin, a lawyer at a firm.

"Polly, don't try to prove yourself, but don't stay silent either. I trust you. Gather your evidence first."

He could hear I was low, so he tried to steady me. "A little case like this is nothing to me. I'll strike first, and your family's legal team backs the whole thing up. That Zachery is going to pay for this, guaranteed."

When I came out of the break room, a crowd was clustered around my desk.

I walked over fast and saw Zachery sitting in my chair, going through my computer.

"Who gave you the right? That's my desk."

My bag had been yanked open, the lipstick inside snapped in two, the compact smashed to powder.

Travel coffee, tampons, tissues thrown all over the floor.

Wendy was digging through it in disposable gloves, wearing a look of disgust.

"Wendy, those are my personal belongings. You're invading my privacy."

I opened my phone camera and aimed it at her.

She wasn't the least bit afraid.

"Polly Swanson, you think I want to invade your privacy? I'm just letting everyone see who you really are."

She stamped her foot down on my bag, grinding the lipstick and compact a few times like she was venting.

"This bag is Chanel's newest style, over two hundred grand. The lipstick and compact are Armani limited editions. You're an intern — six thousand a month before you were confirmed. How could you afford any of this?"

I was about to open my mouth when she smiled and said, "And don't tell me you earned it in college. Your college years, your family — the company's background check laid it all out."

Before joining the company, every intern went through a background check.

That file touched on personal privacy.

Only HR and vice presidents and above had the clearance to view it.

I glanced around. In the HR office, a figure stood behind the frosted glass, watching this way.

So they'd started closing ranks.

"Go on, tell us. Where did all this come from? What did you trade for it?"

I said nothing, only kept recording every move of everyone there.

"Can't explain it, right? Then I'll explain it for you!"

And with that, she pulled from my bag something that wasn't mine at all.

3: 3

3.

She dangled the box of condoms in front of me, a nasty little smile on her face.

"Polly Swanson, what kind of decent person brings this to their internship?"

Zachery snorted out a laugh.

"Wendy, you don't get it. Her real job isn't here at the office. It's somewhere else."

"Service industry, you know how it is. Always prepared, always on call. A girl at anyone's beck and—"

He didn't finish the last word.

But everyone standing there had filth on their minds.

They all laughed anyway.

I clenched my fists and swallowed the urge to hit him.

"First, whatever's in your hand isn't mine, so I wouldn't know. Second, I've recorded every word you've slandered me with. When my lawyer and the police show up, don't say I didn't warn you."

Zachery noticed the phone in my hand and lunged for it.

I dodged, and he stumbled forward and went down.

I saw my chance and stomped down hard on his left hand.

He let out a howl like a stuck pig.

"Polly Swanson, you hate me for exposing you, so now you're getting your revenge."

I lifted my foot, all polite apology. "Sorry. Too much trash on the floor, didn't see it."

He scrambled up, eyes gone red.

"Polly Swanson, I was going to let you keep some dignity. You didn't want it. Don't blame me."

The work-chat cursor blinked a few times on the screen.

All at once, everyone opened the company group chat.

It was the video. The one that went viral across every platform in my last life.

Me on the arm of an older man in a black baseball cap, stepping out of a Rolls-Royce.

Walking into a private members' club.

"It really is her. Look how cheap she dresses."

"There's video and she still won't admit it. How thick does your skin have to be?"

"If her skin weren't that thick, would she be out hunting for a sugar daddy?"

Zachery stared at me, something vicious in his eyes.

He kept dumping photos and videos into the chat.

Some at the luxury counters, some in the passenger seat of a Rolls-Royce, some on a beach vacation.

Wendy dug up my social media feed.

"Still trying to talk her way out of it. She took her vacation on a beach last month. Exact same background."

Like she'd uncovered the crime of the century, she posted my whole photo set into the chat.

She pointed at a blurred figure in the corner.

"A fox always shows its tail in the end. That's the old man right there."

I looked at the photo and couldn't help laughing.

Zachery had gone to a lot of trouble to frame me.

And to make everyone believe it,

he'd deliberately mined my own social feed for material, inventing a sugar daddy who didn't exist but left just enough of a trail to be "found."

"Polly Swanson, weren't you so full of yourself? Why so quiet now?"

"If it weren't for that old man's help, how does a lowly intern like you land the Stonebrook project and get her position confirmed?"

I lifted my eyes to Zachery.

After all the circling around, he'd finally named what he was really after.

He'd started three months before me and still hadn't been confirmed.

The Stonebrook project was the stage every intern was fighting over.

Winning it didn't just mean getting your position confirmed.

Whoever landed the project would also handle all the follow-up business from Fox Corp behind Stonebrook.

Whoever took Stonebrook, and hooked into Fox Corp,

their career was as good as made.

Zachery's internship was almost up.

He needed Stonebrook. He needed Fox Corp.

"Zachery, I'm not like you. No real skill to speak of. Every intern in your batch got confirmed and you're still hanging on."

"Can't cut it yourself, so you cook up some cheap, dirty trick to humiliate other people."

That hit the nerve. Like some cornered clown, he started shrieking that he'd hit me.

The instant his fist was about to come down,

a sharp voice cut through the room.

"This is absurd. It's working hours. You think this company is a street market?"

I glanced up at who'd come in.

I let out a breath.

Now, I might just be saved.

4: 4

4.

Randolph Whitney's face was hard, and every one of the people who'd been gawking a second ago went quiet.

They scurried back to their desks like rats caught in the open.

Only Zachery, Wendy, and I were left standing.

"Mr. Whitney, there's something I need to say."

Before I could finish, Sylvia cut me off.

"Mr. Whitney, here's the incident report on what happened. Take a look."

He opened the file she handed him.

"Mr. Whitney, I only spoke up because I care about the company. I took the risk of making enemies to expose her, and Polly went and called me incompetent, called me two-faced, said I had some hidden agenda."

I was the one being smeared.

And yet Zachery looked like the wronged party.

Whitney closed the file and smiled at him.

"Zach, I understand the whole thing now. You've done well."

I stared at him, stunned.

Wendy twisted the knife right away. "Mr. Whitney, we're about to partner with Fox Corp. At a moment like this, we absolutely cannot afford any kind of scandal. We can't let certain people wreck something this big for the company."

He nodded thoughtfully and gave me a once-over.

"Polly, you're new to working life. You're in a hurry, looking for shortcuts. I can understand that."

I fired back, hard. "On what grounds do you say that? Do you have proof? His word alone?"

Sylvia pointed at the videos that were spreading everywhere. "Polly, the photos and videos are all out there. Are you still going to keep lying?"

"Mr. Whitney just stepped in to save you face, and here you are questioning him."

Randolph reined in his anger. "Polly, for the good of the company, we've already pulled your confirmation announcement."

Zachery hurried to my computer and refreshed the link.

The instant he saw the blank page, a satisfied little smile crossed his face.

"This isn't fair. You never investigated anything, and you're going on his word alone?"

"That confirmation was mine because of the countless nights I stayed up, the countless versions of the plan I scrapped, the Stonebrook project I landed. I earned it."

"It has nothing to do with anyone else."

As if something had just occurred to him, Randolph added, "Seal all the Stonebrook materials and hand them over to Zachery. The person running this project has to be honest and clean."

The pride in Zachery's eyes swelled.

Randolph pointed at me and told Sylvia, "You make sure the handover happens, and make it fast."

"Polly, you're moving out of the Operations Department for now. Go to support staff."

Then, as if he were handing me some enormous act of mercy, he patted my shoulder.

"With everything in such an uproar, the company is doing this to protect you."

The moment he turned to leave, I didn't explain, didn't argue.

I pushed the smug Zachery aside.

And sat straight back down at my desk.

They thought I'd caved, and started on the handover.

Randolph looked at me, pleased. "Polly, a young person who knows which way the wind blows—that's the right attitude. When the handover's done, come by my office. There's something I want to discuss with you."

The three of them saw Randolph off like a pack of fawning lapdogs.

Then Zachery pressed me to hurry up and transfer everything.

But once he saw what I was actually doing,

the color drained right out of his face.