Chapter 8
I slid the stack across the table. It came to rest right between her tablet and Marcus’s laptop.
“What is this?” she asked.
“A new agreement,” I said.
Marcus reached out, pulled the top set toward him, and scanned the title page. He let out a low whistle through his teeth.
“It’s an Enterprise Continuity and Support Agreement,” Marcus murmured. “A five-year term.”
“Read the terms, Marcus,” Olivia commanded, her eyes never leaving mine.
Marcus turned the page. His eyes flicked down the bullet points with the practiced speed of an auditor.
“Section One: Retention of Intellectual Property. Peterson Automation Solutions maintains full ownership of all current and future versions of the Aegis platform... Section Two: Operational Scope. Contractor retains sole authority over architecture changes, dynamic routing, and middleware integrations... Section Three: Compensation.”
Marcus stopped. He looked at Olivia, then at me.
“Read it,” she said again, though her voice had lost its snap.
“Seventy-five thousand dollars per month,” Marcus said quietly. “Billed on the first of each month, non-cancelable for the initial thirty-six months. Plus a five percent annual cost-of-living adjustment.”
Olivia let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh. “Seventy-five thousand? You were making forty-two thousand when you walked into this room forty minutes ago. You want an eighty percent raise after refusing to cooperate with a management transition?”
“No,” I corrected her. “I wanted forty-two thousand dollars and a professional conversation about how to train an internal team over the next eighteen months so you could transition safely. That’s what I proposed in my first email to you three weeks ago. I offered to help you build an in-house integration unit, document the interfaces, and slowly phase out my active maintenance role while keeping the license fees nominal.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms against the wood.
“You didn’t respond to that proposal, Ms. Matthews. You sent me an automated calendar invite titled 'Vendor Rationalization.' You brought in a consultant from Chicago who spent three weeks looking at network logs without once asking to see the physical control cabinets. You told me my services were no longer required, and then you demanded I hand over five years of proprietary research because you didn't bother to read the contract George Whitman signed.”
The clock on the wall clicked. 9:35 AM.
Eighty-five minutes left.
“The seventy-five thousand dollars isn't a penalty,” I continued. “It’s the price of emergency risk mitigation. If you sign that agreement, I re-enable your enterprise license before I stand up from this chair. The bridge reconnects. The buffers don’t clear. The Detroit delivery leaves the dock at three o'clock, and your board never has to know that your first major strategic initiative as Chief Executive nearly caused a thirty-million-dollar supply chain default on a Tuesday morning.”