“Gavin, I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am. But what was I supposed to do? Just drive past her?”
“Yes,” he snapped.
The entire office seemed to stop breathing.
For a moment, I wondered whether I’d misunderstood him.
But he stepped closer and made his position unmistakably clear.
“Yes, Christopher. You were supposed to keep driving. You had a responsibility here. You had a team counting on you. You had clients waiting. We are not a charity. We are a business.”
My ears rang.
I’d devoted nearly four years to that agency.
I’d answered work calls late at night, sacrificed weekends, skipped meals, repaired unsuccessful campaigns, soothed angry customers, and helped train new employees.
Whenever a project seemed impossible to rescue, I was often the person expected to find a solution.
I’d arrived before everyone else and stayed after closing so frequently that even the cleaning staff knew my daughters’ names.
