Chapter 6: The Question He Didn't Expect
She called Marcus the next morning and asked for fifteen minutes with Julian Cross.
Marcus called back in four minutes.
"He said now, if you're available."
She took the subway uptown.
Julian was in his office on the thirty-eighth floor — not the penthouse, the actual office, with a desk and bookshelves and two chairs across from each other like a conversation was expected.
He stood when she came in, which she hadn't anticipated.
"Thank you for coming," he said.
"I haven't decided yet," Abby said.
She sat down without being invited to.
"I have a question first."
He sat.
"All right."
She looked at him steadily.
"Why did you fire the others?"
Julian's expression didn't change.
"Because they took the money."
"All thirty-one of them."
"Yes."
"Did you know any of them were desperate?" she asked.
"Before you set the test?"
A pause.
"Some of them."
"And you fired them anyway."
"Yes."
Abby leaned forward slightly.
"The chef who took two thousand dollars.
Did you know anything about him?"
Julian was quiet for a moment.
"His name was Victor.
He had a son with a medical condition.
I knew that."
"And you still fired him."
"Yes."
"And the housekeeper.
The one you said you genuinely liked."
Julian looked at the desk.
"Her name was Rosa.
She'd worked for me for four years."
"Did you know why she took the hundred dollars?"
"I didn't ask."
Abby sat back.
"You didn't ask."
"No."
"You just — let them go."
"Yes." His voice was even, but something underneath it was not.
"I told myself the test was objective.
That it didn't matter what the circumstances were.
That character was character."
"But you read my file," Abby said.
"You found out my circumstances."
"Yes."
"Why me and not them?"
The office was very quiet.
Julian looked at her directly.
"Because you made me stop and think for the first time in eight years.
And when I stopped thinking about you, I started thinking about them.
And I realized—" He stopped.
"I realized I had been very wrong.
For a very long time."
Abby held his gaze.
"What are you going to do about the others?"
He reached into the desk drawer and placed a folder on the surface between them.
"I've already located Victor," he said.
"And Rosa.
And eleven others I could trace.
I'm in the process of making restitution — back pay, references, and in some cases additional support depending on their current situation."
Abby stared at the folder.
"You're already doing it."
"I started Monday night," he said.
"After I read your file."
She looked up.
"Before you offered me the job."
"Yes."
She was quiet for a long moment.
"Why does that matter to you?" Julian asked.
"The order of it."
"Because if you were only doing it to impress me," she said, "that would tell me something.
But if you were doing it before you even knew whether I'd say yes — that tells me something different."
Julian looked at her.
"And what does it tell you?"
Abby looked at the folder.
At the desk.
At the man across from her who had done a genuinely cruel thing for eight years and had apparently, in the space of one Monday morning, begun to understand why.
"It tells me," she said slowly, "that you might actually mean it."
She reached across the desk and picked up the folder.
She opened it.
Victor's name was at the top.
Below it, a number.
Below that, a note in Julian's handwriting: *Called.
Left message.
Waiting.*
"He hasn't called back yet?" Abby asked.
"Not yet."
She closed the folder and set it down.
"I'll take the job," she said.
Julian nodded once.
He didn't smile.
He didn't reach across the desk.
He simply nodded, the way a person nods when something important has been settled correctly.
"There's one condition," Abby said.
"Name it."
"Victor and Rosa get their references first.
Before I start.
Before anything else."
Julian looked at her for a moment.
Then he picked up his phone and dialed.
"Marcus," he said.
"Move Victor and Rosa to the top of the list.
Today." He paused.
"Yes.
Today."
He set the phone down.
Abby stood.
She picked up her bag.
"Monday?" she asked.
"Monday," he said.
She walked to the door.
She had her hand on the frame when Julian spoke again.
"Miss Mercer."
She turned.
"The feather duster," he said.
"Pearl.
You can bring her if you want."
Abby looked at him for a moment.
"She doesn't give advice," Abby said.
"Just so you know."
"That's fine," Julian said.
"I have Marcus for that."
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she walked out, and the elevator doors closed behind her, and Julian Cross sat alone in his office with the folder still open on his desk and Victor's name at the top of the page and the phone in his hand.
May you like
He dialed again.
This time, someone picked up.
