Chapter 5 - The First Crack in the Facade
Back at the Heights District apartment, panic had turned into outright chaos.
Michael frantically dialed my cell phone for the fifteenth time, but every single call went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, he tried calling my office line, only to be told by a cold corporate receptionist that "Director Vance is currently unavailable in meetings and does not take personal calls during business hours."
“She blocked me, Mom! She actually blocked me!” Michael shouted, pacing back and forth across the living room rug, his designer shirt wrinkled and his hair disheveled. “And look at this! When I tried to log into my corporate expense account for our firm to purchase client materials today, the transaction was declined! The corporate card is frozen too!”
Hattie’s face was twisted in a mask of furious disbelief. She had spent the last three years treating me like a doorstep, bragging to her friends in Sedona about how her son had "tamed a country girl" and secured a foothold in the city's high-society real estate circles. The thought that the apartment they stood in—the very symbol of their supposed superiority—actually belonged to me was a reality her fragile ego refused to process.
“It’s a bluff! It has to be a legal bluff!” Hattie shrieked, slamming her fist onto the kitchen counter. “No country girl from Montana could ever own a luxury apartment like this in the Heights District! She probably rented it under some corporate loophole and is trying to scare you into submission! Call her lawyer! Call her family! Call the police!”
“Mom, the legal documents are signed by Vance & Associates! That’s one of the top corporate law firms in the state!” Michael yelled back, his voice cracking with rising hysteria. “Do you know how much a lawyer like Marcus Vance costs? Thousands of dollars an hour! If she's retaining them, she isn't just some ordinary employee... she... she must be—”
Before Michael could finish his sentence, his cell phone rang loudly on the coffee table.
He jumped toward it, seeing an unknown corporate number flashing on the screen. He swiped the answer button eagerly, hoping against hope that it was me calling to apologize.
“Hello? Penelope? Is that you? Look, let’s stop this nonsense—” Michael blurted out breathlessly.
“Is this Mr. Michael Coleman, principal representative of Coleman & Associates Architecture?” a crisp, deeply formal voice cut him off.
Michael froze. “Uh... yes. Yes, this is he. Who is this?”
“This is Arthur Pendelton, senior managing director of commercial procurement for Phoenix Metropolitan Developments,” the voice replied coldly. “I am calling to formally notify you that Coleman & Associates has been removed from our active vendor roster effective immediately. All pending design contracts, including the Horizon Plaza sub-contract, are hereby terminated for breach of professional standards and conflict of interest.”
Michael’s knees buckled. He dropped onto the edge of the sofa, staring blankly at the wall. “What? Terminated? But we’ve been working with you for years! Our bid was already approved! You can't just cancel millions of dollars in contracts without a board review!”
“We certainly can, Mr. Coleman, and we have,” Pendelton replied flatly. “Furthermore, our internal compliance audit has flagged irregularities in your past billing cycles. Legal counsel will be in touch regarding restitution. Good day to you.”
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Click. The line went dead.
Michael sat frozen in silence, the phone slipping from his limp fingers and clattering onto the hardwood floor. His career, his projects, his finances, and his home were evaporating into thin air within a span of single hours.
