“What's the matter?” Vanessa continued. “Too proud to accept a little charity?”
Angela looked down.
She thought about her mother.
About the cold offices Evelyn had cleaned.
About the years she had spent saving every spare dollar so Angela could afford textbooks.
Evelyn had never been wealthy.
But she had possessed more dignity than anyone Angela had ever known.
Angela slowly raised her head.
“I don't need your money.”
Vanessa's mouth curved.
“Everybody needs money.”
“Not everybody is willing to trade their dignity for it.”
Vanessa burst into laughter.
“Oh, that's adorable.”
She turned to the employees standing nearby.
“Did you hear that? She's giving me a lecture about dignity.”
A few people forced uncomfortable smiles.
Vanessa pointed at the cash.
“Pick it up. Consider it a tip.”
Angela did not move.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“I'm speaking to you.”
“I heard you.”
“Then pick up the money.”
“No.”
The single word stopped Vanessa.
Her expression stiffened.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
For several seconds, the two women stared at each other.
Then Vanessa laughed again, louder this time.
“You really have no idea who you're dealing with.”
Angela’s reply was quiet.
“Neither do you.”
Vanessa narrowed her eyes.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you should be careful about how you treat people you don't know.”
Vanessa pointed an accusing finger at her face.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No. I'm offering you an opportunity.”
“To do what?”
“To reconsider what you've just done.”
Vanessa glanced around.
People were watching openly now.
Instead of apologizing, she raised her voice.
“Everyone, listen to this. I offer this woman money, and suddenly she's acting like she's too important to accept it.”
Angela shook her head.
“You didn't offer me money. You threw it at me.”
“Oh, please. Don't be dramatic.”
“You threw money at my feet and ordered me to pick it up.”
“Because you clearly needed a lesson in gratitude.”
Angela looked around the lobby.
A security officer stood near the front doors.
Two administrative employees had stopped beside the elevators.
Emily, the receptionist, looked pale.
Claire was holding her phone at her side.
Angela turned back toward Vanessa.
“Would you speak this way to someone you knew was wealthy?”
Vanessa smirked.
“I don't have to. Wealthy people generally know how to behave.”
“And someone you believed was poor?”
“Should be grateful when someone successful helps them.”
Angela nodded slowly.
“That's very revealing.”
Vanessa's cheeks reddened.
“I'm done with this conversation.”
She turned toward the reception desk.
“Emily, call security and have this woman removed.”
Emily hesitated.
“Mrs. Whitmore, she has an appointment with Mr. Reeves.”
Vanessa spun around.
“Excuse me?”
“Her name is in the visitor system.”
“Then cancel it.”
“I don't have authorization—”
“I am giving you authorization!”
Emily swallowed.
Angela raised a hand gently.
“Emily, please don't put yourself in a difficult position.”
Vanessa laughed sharply.
“Listen to her. She's giving instructions to my receptionist.”
Angela's tone did not change.
“I asked her not to risk her job because of this misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?”
Vanessa's voice climbed.
“You walk into my building, refuse to follow directions, insult me in front of my employees, and now you call it a misunderstanding?”
Angela looked directly at her.
“Is this your building?”
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“For all practical purposes, yes.”
“Interesting.”
“What's interesting?”
“That you seem very certain about something that isn't true.”
A ripple of nervous silence moved through the onlookers.
Vanessa took a step forward.
“You think you're clever.”
“No,” Angela said. “I think I'm patient.”
Vanessa reached for her phone.
“I can make sure you never work in this industry again.”
Angela felt her patience beginning to fade.
Not because of the threat.
She had faced far more powerful opponents.
What troubled her was the realization that Vanessa probably behaved this way every day.
How many employees had been humiliated?
How many young workers had cried in bathrooms after being publicly insulted?
How many people had left Sterling & Vale believing that their dignity mattered less than their employer's reputation?
“Mrs. Whitmore,” Angela said, “how many people have you threatened with their jobs this month?”
Vanessa stared.
“What?”
“How many?”
“That's none of your business.”
“Perhaps it should be.”
Vanessa gave a bitter laugh.
“You really are delusional.”
She grabbed another bill from her handbag.
Then, to the horror of several employees, she pushed it against Angela’s blazer.