**Diary Entry**
*Youre just a washed-up failure,* sneered my boss as he fired me. Little did he know, I had a dinner date that evening with the man who owned his entire company.
*We have to let you go, Irene Spencer.*
Gregory Thorntons voice was slick, almost pitying. He lounged in his leather chair, twirling his expensive fountain pen like a conductors baton.
*Reason?* I asked flatly, though inside, everything had clenched into a cold, hard knot.
Fifteen years with this firm. Fifteen years of reports, projects, sleepless nightsgone in a single sentence.
*Streamlining,* he said, grinning as if hed just handed me a lottery win. *New challenges, fresh blood. You understand.*
Oh, I understood. Id seen that *fresh blood*his wifes vapid niece, who couldnt string two words together without a typo.
*All I understand is that my department has the highest performance in the branch,* I replied, holding his gaze.
His smirk faltered, twisting into something predatory. He set the pen down and leaned in, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
*Results? Irene, lets be honest. Youre yesterdays news. The old guard. People like you should be retired, knitting jumpers for the grandkids.*
He paused, savouring the blow.
*Youve become a tired, washed-up has-been clinging to your desk. This company needs drive.*
There it was. Not *valued veteran*, not *loyal employee*. Just *washed-up failure*.
I stood without another word. Begging or arguing wouldve been pointless. His mind was made up.
*Collect your things and see HR for your final payment,* he called after me.
I packed my desk under the pitying stares of colleagues. No one approached. Fear of Thornton ran deeper than office friendships.
Into the box went my sons photo, my favourite mug, my stack of trade journalseach item an anchor ripped from my life.
Outside the glass doors of the corporate tower, the evening air was crisp. No tears, no despair. Just hollow clarity and a slow-burning fury.
My phone lit up. A message:
*Still on for tonight? Seven at our usual. Daniel.*
Thornton didnt know one thing. Tonight, I was dining with the owner of his entire company. And by morning, everything would change.
The restaurant was all soft lighting and low music. I felt out of place, cardboard box in handa symbol of my exile.
Daniel was already waiting by the window. Tall, polished, with his usual warm smile. But it vanished the moment he saw the box.
*Irene? Whats this?*
*My trophies. Fifteen years of loyalty,* I said lightly, though bitterness seeped through.
He took the box, set it aside, and pulled out my chair. *Talk. Now.*
So I did. Calmly, factually, as if reciting a report. Every word Thornton had said.
*He called me a washed-up failure,* I finished, staring at my hands on the white linen.
Daniel was silent. When I looked up, his face was unreadablebut something dark simmered beneath.
*And you just left?*
*What was I supposed to do? Beg for my own job back?*
*You shouldve called me. Immediately.*
*So you could fix it for me? Run to you like some helpless little girl? Daniel, thats not why Im with you.*
He took my hand. *I know. Thats exactly why Im with you. You never ask for anything.*
His jaw tightened. *Thorntons had complaints before. Whispers of favouritism. But anonymous gripes arent proof. Now they are.*
My phone buzzed. A message from my former assistant, Lizzie:
*Girls, you wont believe this. Thornton just announced his niece as the new department head. Said theyd cut dead weight holding them back. In front of everyone.*
I handed the phone to Daniel. His face hardened.
*He didnt just fire you. He publicly humiliated you. Thats not just personalits sabotage.*
He tapped the table, decisive.
*Tomorrows the board meeting. Thorntons presenting his restructuring success. Youll be thereas my special advisor. Youll dismantle him with facts. Let him hang himself.*
I barely slept that night. In Daniels study, surrounded by files, I felt something I hadnt in yearsfire.
By dawn, I had a twenty-page demolition of Thorntons incompetence. Inflated figures, sabotaged projects, toxic mismanagement.
When we entered the boardroom, Thornton was mid-speech. He froze at the sight of mein a steel-grey trouser suit, armour for the battle ahead.
*Daniel? Why isMs. Spencer here? She no longer works here.*
*Youre mistaken,* Daniel said smoothly. *Shes here as my advisor to evaluate your streamlining. Do continue.*
Thornton paled. His eyes darted to the board members, but their stares were ice.
*II was just explaining the strategy*
*Splendid. Now lets hear an alternative perspective. Irene?*
I stood. All yesterdays bitterness had crystallised into cold precision.
*My department delivered 22% profit last quarter7% above target. Yet Thorntons reports listed us as a loss. Wheres the missing £2.5 million?*
Slide after slide exposed his lies. Doctored graphs. Lost contracts. Witness statements.
*As for fresh blood* I locked eyes with him. *His niece botched a client pitch yesterday by confusing EBITDA with EBIT. That deal took me three months. Losses: £400K.*
Thornton shot up, face purple.
*Who the hell do you think you are?!* he screeched. *Sleeping with the boss wont save you! I fired you! Youre a washed-up failure!*
Silence. An elderly board member frowned in disgust.
*Sit down, Thornton. Youre embarrassing yourself.*
I smiledchilly, calm.
*You wont fire me. Because the board will now vote on two motions. One: your immediate termination for gross misconduct.*
I let that sink in, watching sweat bead on his forehead.
*Two: my appointment as VP of Operations. Proposed by the majority shareholder. Pack your things, Gregory. Security will escort you out.*
He stood gaping, grey-faced, until two guards appeared.
*Security,* Daniel repeated softly. They took him, still spluttering about *injustice*.
The board voted unanimously in my favour.
—
One year later, I reviewed the annual report from my new office. Profits up 40%. But the real pride? Seven specialists Thornton had axed for being *over the hill* were reinstated. Wed launched mentorship schemesexperience nurturing ambition.
Lizzie popped in, now heading my old team.
*Saw Thornton. Hes a delivery driver now. Avoided eye contact.*
I nodded, no gloating. Hed made his choices. The universe had balanced the scales.
Daniel and I married quietly. No office fanfare. He handled strategy; I ran operations.
No longer proving anything, just excellinghappily. Age wasnt a stigma now. It was an asset.
My phone chimed:
*Dont work late, Madam VP. Surprise at home.*
Smiling, I turned off the light. On my desk, our wedding photo sat framedtwo happy adults whod found each other not despite their journeys, but because of them.
A failure? Hardly. Just a woman whod decided, finally, to write her own story.
