chapter 7

Morning came soon after and Michelle prepared for a morning with her family. She was sure they would have words to say to her with the way she walked out on them the night before. In a bid to ensure she would not have to spend more time with them than necessary she got everything she needed for work, brushed, bathed, got dressed, she sent a quick text to the personal driver her grandfather had assigned to her and he responded he was on his way to come pick her. Soon she received a text signaling his arrival and stealthily left her room closing the door gently behind her. Her plan to leave home unnoticed was thwarted of course as Abigail and Lionel were seated in the living room.

"Good, you're awake." Lionel said, their gazes turned to her as she walked down the staircase. "We need to talk."

"Oh? Can it wait till I get back from work? The driver is already outside and he's waiting for me." She responded trying to look like she was in a hurry.

"No it can't. The driver works for our family so I'm sure it won't kill him to wait a bit. Now sit." He shot back tone firm as he gestured to the sofa.

"Alright then." She muttered and obliged him crossing her legs as she sat down.

"Explain what happened last night." 

"I'm sorry. Explain what?"

"That attitude you took with your mother. Explain it."

Abigail laid her hand on his arm and squeezed, then turning to Michelle she said with a comforting tone, "What your father is trying to say Elle dear, is why did you speak to me like that last night. I didn't know what I said annoyed you so greatly and for you to respond like that." She sniffled tears already forming in her eyes.

Michelle groaned internally instantly recognizing Abigail's tactic- when she was younger and tried standing up to her, Abigail would act like Michelle's behavior was the most awful thing in the world and that her actions were harming her. Not wanting to cause any grief or trouble, she would instantly apologize and Abigail would smile and pat her hair calling her a "good girl." She was certain Abigail was expecting her usual groveling and she was not going to get it.

"What was wrong with my response?" She asked instead ignoring Abigail's tears. Her question obviously shocked Abigail, as it was not what she was expecting and she fumbled a bit, trying to formulate a response.

"Oh, um. I just meant you shouldn't have spoken to me like that. Your voice scared me."

"Did I raise my voice at you?"

"What?" Abigail responded in response.

"Did I yell at you at all last night?" 

"No you didn't. But-"

"So your issue is that I didn't let you blame me for ruining the mood at dinner and making everyone 'lose their appetites'."

"No." Lionel chimed in, "Our issue is that you felt it was ok to speak to your mother in such a disrespectful tone and walk out of dinner without permission."

"I am an adult father. I don't need permission to leave the dining room and I did not disrespect my mother. I simply corrected the false statement she made. There's a difference."

"Oh really? You were correcting a false statement you say? Were you not aware your doing so would upset her? Did you also forget you're living under my roof and as such you have to abide by my rules?"

She chuckled lightly at the ridiculousness of his tone.

"I'm not responsible for how people, her especially, react to the words I say. Also father, your house? Really? Last time I checked grandpa's name was on the deed, so no I don't need to live by your rules." She stood up, "If there's nothing left, I'll leave now. I don't want to be late for my second day. See you all after work." She left the house.

"What was that honey?" Abigail asked turning to her husband, her voice strained. "Was that really Michelle? What on earth happened to her?"

"I don't know. I'm sure she's going through something and is just lashing out." He wrapped his arms around her absentmindedly as his thoughts drifted off.

Michelle arrived at work all smiles; she was trying her hardest not to laugh at the reactions on her parents' faces as she left them seated there stunned. If she knew standing up for herself was so much she'd have tried it a long time ago.

Her thoughts drifted as she settled in to her cubicle, back to her meek past self who would never once have dreamed of speaking to Lionel and Abigail in such a way for fear of them shunning her. Her parents favorite tactic was love starving her, she never received any affection from them unless she did things that put herself last, then she'd receive praise about what a big girl she was and how mature and responsible she was. 

"Hiya Elle!" Meg's cherry voice snapped her back to reality; she just arrived and was setting down her bag, "Is it cool if I call you Elle? I forgot to ask you that yesterday."

"Yeah, I don't mind. I'd like that actually."

"Awesome." She sat down, "So you ready for whatever it is Freddy's gonna throw at you?" she asked leaning in.

"Ready? Definitely. I'm sure whatever it is will be something I can handle."

"Wow, someone's confident today."

"Yeah, my morning started out great."

"Mmmh mmh," A throat cleared, it was Freddy. He stared down at them displeasure evident on his face. "You're here to work not gossip. Miss Hart, come with me."

He walked away expecting her to follow. She and Meg stared at each other for a beat before she stood up to follow him, looking back she saw Meg mouth "good luck".

Mr. Frederick led her to the files room.

"Uh, what are we doing here sir?" She asked looking around her.

"The design team wants to give one of our old products a new look, they feel this would be the best way for it to have more sales. However, I don't agree with their views."

"Okay?"

"They want us to create a plan that supports their idea but here's what you're going to do. I want you to find ways that would show the people upstairs that the design team's plan has tons of flaws and that it would cost us money. Money better spent somewhere else."

"Two questions, why didn't you just tell me this at my cubicle? Second, why are you giving a newbie like me such an important task?"

"You've made it clear to me that you are of a higher level than I am, so that doesn't make you a newbie." Leaning in he smirked, "Try not to mess it up." Then he exited the room leaving Michelle to her musings already formulating a plan.

She returned to her cubicle and was met with the inquisitive gaze of Meghan.

"So? What did he want?"

"Do you know about the design's team new idea?"

"Oh that, yeah. They keep on wanting to revive a product that everyone's forgotten about. I mean honestly give it a rest. Their designs always flop as it attracts zero consumers and we have to clean up the financial messes that it creates. It's practically a yearly thing now"

"So what would be your advice for someone who was assigned the task of creating a report that would show how bad their idea was?"

"I would tell them to either quit or cozy up to Freddy so he can give someone else, the person assigned that task is always the scapegoat when things go wrong and Freddy-"

Her eyes widened in realization, "No! You?! He gave it to you? That's terrible."

"Wait a moment, back up, what do you mean scapegoat?" Michelle asked confused, trying to remember if such a term was around last time and she remembered nothing.

"Yeah, scapegoat. At first Freddy was the one who comes up with the plan but after the design team's ideas keeps on getting approved and failing, he started delegating the task to some poor, hapless soul that corporate blames for everything and almost always gets fired." 

Michelle could distinctly remember some faceless person trudging out of the office with their things in a brown box. It seems Freddy wanted her to be that new person, probably on her father's orders. Her new attitude probably had him worried and he wanted her to still remain under his thumb. At least this task had a silver lining, it gave her unfiltered access to the company's finances. She could start searching for discrepancies and mismanagement of funds. Anything that could prove Freddy's embezzlement and help her get rid of her father's lackey. She couldn't meet her grandfather because she didn't know she could explain how she knew about it. She'd have to handle it herself.

"Well that 'poor hapless soul' won't be me."

"Elle, I love your confidence honestly but it is near impossible to discredit the design team."

"Really why?"

"There's talk about how the head of the design team is related to someone on the design approval board. So all designs get approved no matter how terrible they are."

Michelle groaned at that. Hart Industries needed to stop hiring people that went on to hire their family members; this was a company not their family house. Yet another thing she had to fix.

"Listen, I'm sure things will work out, plus you're not alone if you need any help just meet me. I'll help with everything you need." Meg said reassuringly.

"Thanks Meg. I appreciate it."

Three weeks went by and Michelle was no closer to finding what she needed. For some reason previous records of what the design team cost the company were nonexistent. She consulted Meg, who told her only the General Manager or higher could have access to do such a thing. That revelation gave her pause. Could it be Freddy had deleted them to cover his tracks? If memory served her right, deleted things aren't ever actually deleted. They were sent to a separate server where they stayed and were routinely browsed through with the least important being erased.

She had to go down to IT and could only hope that what she needed wasn't erased.

IT was on the 40th floor, the elevator ride was a welcome escape from Freddy and Peter's watchful eyes. She had been able to avoid her family back home by leaving much earlier and arriving as late as possible, she could see that Lionel would snap soon and the stares Lucy gave her during the moments they run into each other on the weekends were chilling.

It seems her new attitude was rocking their world off its axis; well they should enjoy their peace while it lasted. She had sourced out mini cameras that were undetectable unless you were looking for them- something she was sure they would never do.

Ding the elevator opened at the 40th floor and she stepped out unto a floor that was identical to her floor except it was less formal. She watched as a group of people gathered around a table laughed and at another side of the room, someone was eating at their desk. The informal scene before her brought a small smile to her face.

"We don't get visitors here. How may we help you Miss?" A voice said behind her, it was a man of average height with long brown hair he wore in a bun, he held a half cup of coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other, his name tag read 'General Manager'