Chapter 8: What Greg Wanted
I forwarded the email to Patricia before I opened it fully.
She called back in four minutes.
"Don't reply," she said.
"Don't acknowledge it.
But read it to me."
I read it aloud.
Greg had written six paragraphs.
The first two were about how long we'd worked together and how much he respected my dedication.
The third shifted — he said he understood I was angry, that some of his comments over the years had been poorly judged, that he took responsibility for the tone of the working environment.
Then the fourth paragraph.
*I want you to know that what you heard on those recordings was taken out of context.
I was under significant pressure from above — pressure you never saw.
Paulson pushed the restructuring agenda.
The retreat idea wasn't mine originally.
I was implementing a directive.
I should have pushed back harder.
I didn't.
That's on me.*
"He's throwing Paulson under the bus," Patricia said.
"Keep going," I said, and read the fifth paragraph.
*I'm not asking you to drop anything.
I'm asking for the chance to speak to you directly, without lawyers, before this goes further.
I think there's a version of this that doesn't destroy both our careers.
I have a family, Linda.
Two kids.
I'm asking you, person to person, to give me one conversation.*
The sixth paragraph was just two sentences.
*I know I wasn't kind to you.
I'm sorry.*
I set the phone down for a moment.
Patricia waited.
"He's scared," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"Is any of it true?
About Paulson directing him?"
"It may be partially true," Patricia said.
"It doesn't change what he did.
Being ordered to do something cruel doesn't make the cruelty someone else's." A pause.
"He's also trying to separate himself from Paulson before Paulson does the same to him.
They're already turning on each other.
That's good for us."
"He mentioned his kids," I said.
"I know," Patricia said.
Her voice was careful.
"That's a real thing to carry.
It doesn't change what he did to you for twelve years.
But you're allowed to feel both things at once."
I looked at the email again.
"What do I do with it?" I asked.
"Nothing," Patricia said.
"I'll have my assistant send a formal acknowledgment that all communication must go through legal channels.
That's all." A brief pause.
"But Linda — I want you to know that whatever you decide at the end of this, however you want it to resolve, that's your call.
I work for you.
Not for the outcome that looks best on paper."
I closed the email.
"I want it to be over," I said.
"I want it to be done correctly.
And I want to be able to walk into a room without wondering what someone is saying about me the moment I leave."
"Then let's get you that," Patricia said.
---
The company's legal team called Patricia on Thursday.
They wanted to negotiate.
She called me afterward.
"They're offering a settlement," she said.
"Confidential.
Full severance, extended health coverage, a neutral reference letter, and a formal written apology from both Greg and Paulson."
"No admission of wrongdoing?" I asked.
"Correct."
I was quiet.
"What does Carol get?" I asked.
"They haven't made an offer to Carol yet," Patricia said.
"They're hoping to separate the two of you.
Settle with you quickly and quietly, then deal with Carol from a stronger position."
"Then we don't settle separately," I said.
"Whatever we do, we do together."
A pause.
"I'll tell them that," Patricia said.
May you like
"They won't like it."
"Good," I said.
