“You’re just a grey mouse with no money,” her friend had said. Yet on the evening of my birthday, she was the one standing by the door with a tray.
“You simply dont know how to present yourself,” Christina mused lazily, stirring her cocktail with a straw, the bracelet on her wrist glittering with stones.
She spoke with that effortless, almost careless superiority that had long become her signature.
“Its not about presentation,” Evelyn Everly replied softly, tracing a crack in her cheap teacup. “I just dont have the right experience for the job.”
“Experience, experiencehow dull,” Christina sighed theatrically. “What matters is the sparkle in your eyes and expensive shoes. And you have neither.”
Christina Belgrave swept her with an assessing glance, one that made Evelyn want to shrink into herself, as if shed been scanned and deemed unworthy.
“Listen, Im only trying to help,” Christina leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Youre my best friend. Who else would tell you the truth?”
Evelyn stayed silent. *Best friend*the words lodged in her throat, sharp and foreign.
“You must understand, in our world, people judge by appearances and dismiss by connections. Youre a grey mouse with no money. And until you accept that, youll keep scraping by on pennies.”
Every word struck true, knocking the air from her lungs.
“Im launching a project,” Christina continued, relishing her reaction. “Ill need people for simple taskssorting papers, greeting couriers.” She paused, letting the offer sink in. “I could take you on. Temporarily, of course. Until you find something more *suitable*.”
Evelyn looked up. Her gaze was steel, something inside her hardening into cold stone. She studied Christinathe flawless hair, the disdainful curve of her lips, the bracelet worth a year of Evelyns wages. No longer a friend, but a predator savouring her humiliation.
“Thank you for the offer,” Evelyn said slowly. “But Ill decline.”
Christinas brows shot up in surprise. She hadnt expected that.
“Youre refusing? *You?* Turning down *my* opportunity?” Her voice turned metallic. “Suit yourself. Just dont come weeping when you cant pay rent.”
She pulled several large banknotes from her purse, tossed them on the tablemore than enough to cover the billand without another word, strode away, her heels clicking sharply on the marble.
Evelyn remained seated. She didnt touch the money or her cold tea. Instead, she watched the expensive cars pass outside the window. And for the first time in her life, she didnt feel despairbut determination.
By morning, that determination had sharpened into a cold, pulsing energy. She had always been invisible, but she *saw* things others misseddetails, patterns, hidden motives. That was her true capital.
Sitting at her old laptop, she mapped out a plan. Offered her services on a freelance platform: “research and analysis of unstructured information.” Vague, but she knew its worth.
The first months were hellsmall jobs, difficult clients, payments barely covering rent and food. More than once, she nearly caved, almost dialled Christinas number. But the memory of her smirk stopped her better than any wall.
The breakthrough came six months later. A small law firm hired her to gather intelligence on rivals before a court case. Evelyn worked relentlessly. A week without sleep, and she delivered a report that won them the case. They paid her triple and became regular clients, recommending her to others.
Soon, a trickle of work became a steady stream. Within two years, she rented an office and hired an assistant.
Christina still called occasionally, her life sounding like an endless party.
“Evie, darling! Im on a yacht in Monaco with investors. Still stuck in your little hovel?”
“Hello. No, not bored. Working,” Evelyn replied, reviewing a clients financial report.
“*Working*?” Christina drawled. “Dont be shymy errand girl spot is still open. You could fetch coffee for my new assistant.”
Once, those words would have stung. Now, Evelyn only shrugged.
“No need. I have my own agency.”
“*Agency*?” Christina burst into laughter. “A *floor-scrubbing* agency?”
But her words had no power anymore.
Four more years passed. “Everly & Associates” now occupied a central London office, with five analysts on staff. Shed become known in corporate intelligence. And that was when Christina struck.
Her firm, *Belgrave Group*, stole one of Evelyns key reports, bribing a junior employee with debts.
Evelyn gathered prooffinancial holes, reckless spending, fraudand sent an immaculate report to Christinas investor.
The next day, Christina called, screaming: *”You ruined everything!”*
“I only did my job,” Evelyn replied calmly.
Another two years. On the rooftop of a skyscraper, Evelyn celebrated her firms anniversaryglittering lights, friends, success.
And there, among the waitstaff, she saw Christina. In uniform, tray in hand. Their eyes metterror and hatred in Christinas, icy calm in Evelyns.
Evelyn gave the faintest nod, acknowledging her presence as one would a stranger, then turned back to her guests.
The gesture was worse than any slap. It meant one thing: Christina no longer existed to her.
Christina paled, bit her lip, and fled.
Evelyn watched her go. The world had a way of balancing itself.
Months later, Evelyns business went international. One evening, an old university acquaintance emailed:
*”Saw Christina Belgraveworks as a gym receptionist now. After the scandal, they say she was thrown out that night. Even begged me for money, whining about betrayal and unfairness”*
Evelyn closed her laptop. She felt no triumph, no pity. Christinas story was no longer hers.
The next day, passing a shop window, Evelyn saw her reflectiona confident woman who knew her worth.
She remembered Christinas words about *”sparkle in the eyes and expensive shoes.”* The shoes *were* costly, but the true sparkle came from something deeperthe knowledge of her own strength.
Settling into her office chair, she smiled faintly.
The grey mouse had never become a predator. Shed simply embraced what shed always beena patient, unseen hunter who knew the value of information and timing.
And her time had come.
