The weekly product team meeting was still in session.
Emma remained standing. She didn't flinch, and her tone was steady. "I have some materials that might be relevant to the earlier comments."
Greg didn't respond verbally, just gave a small nod. That was permission enough.
Emma opened a folder on her laptop and mirrored it to the main screen. "This is the archived version of the project communication log."
Her pace was calm as she highlighted the first timestamp.
"Initial client inquiry. July 14th, 22:09. From my inbox. CC'd Julian. No other team members."
Rick slowly lowered his crossed leg.
Emma continued. "July 15th, two calls with the client's assistant. Logged via our internal line. Synced to CRM."
Tomasz glanced sideways at the screen. His expression was unreadable.
Julian leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on Rick. He didn't smile. He waited.
Rick spoke softly. "That doesn't disprove the initial contact. I said it wasn't formal. The first handshake is never documented."
Julian finally replied, measured and slow. "You just claimed it was your intro."
He paused.
"What she just showed wasn't support. That was ownership."
The room tightened. Greg took a sip of water but didn't speak.
Emma didn't engage. She brought up the next slide.
"Structure files. These are the version logs. Each file was timestamped, with initials."
Lines of filenames filled the screen.
"J.W_v1, v2 … all pricing runs were tagged under Julian. No entries from R.A."
Rick straightened slightly and scoffed. "Initial contact doesn't show up on pricing runs, Emma. That's not how senior relationship-building works."
Julian: "Then where's the evidence it happened at all?"
Rick looked directly at him. "You weren't in Dubai. I was."
Julian: "Then maybe next time you should follow up on your drinks."
Greg finally intervened. His tone carried weight. "Enough."
He set his pen down. "Let's be clear. Internal credit depends on documentation. That's the rule. It's not personal."
Emma gave a slow nod. "That's all I needed to show."
She returned to her seat.
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
Julian sat up straighter. His tone was clipped. "We can all claim stories. But this team delivered the work. That's not a story. That's record."
Greg nodded. "Duly noted."
Rick said nothing. He started packing up his laptop, eyes on his screen.
He was the first to leave the room.
He didn't return to his desk immediately. Instead, he walked toward the break room. On the way, he passed two Associates, offered a smile, and exchanged a few pleasantries.
His voice was low.
"Looks like Greg's pet project got his boy a star. Let's see what happens when he's handed something real."
One of them chuckled. "You mean Watanabe? He does look polished."
Rick: "Polished and replaceable."
He took a sip from his coffee cup, eyes scanning the floor.
"They'll dress him up for the pitchbook, but the first blow-up? Watch."
He turned and walked away.
Back in the office, only one row of lights was still on.
After the meeting, the trio didn't immediately move.
Julian nudged his laptop aside and leaned back in his chair. Emma sat nearby, one hand still resting on the file from earlier, as if she wasn't ready to pack it away. Tomasz stood near the sofa, scrolling through CRM updates, his face unreadable.
No one spoke. It felt like they had just walked out of an accident no one could name.
After a long silence, Julian finally broke it. His voice was quiet.
"You know that moment just now you saved me."
Emma didn't look at him. Her tone was almost clinical.
"I just opened a folder."
Julian turned toward her.
"Not everyone would've spoken."
Her fingers moved along the edge of the paper. Then she closed the file, slowly but without hesitation.
"I'm a contractor," she said. "No full-time offer. My visa ends next March."
Tomasz paused mid-scroll and glanced up.
"I thought HR was processing it already?"
"Processing isn't an offer." Her voice was calm, deliberate. No uncertainty.
Julian studied her for a moment, then gave a slow nod, as if recalibrating how much she had on the line.
"If you want to stay, I'll figure something out," he said. "Greg owes me one."
Emma didn't reply immediately. After a beat, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It's not about who owes who. I just can't afford to get it wrong again."
She didn't smile. Didn't look at him. The sentence was for herself, not for the room.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. Just… tense.
Tomasz's voice came in low.
"What about Rick?"
Julian didn't answer right away. He pulled his chair closer to the table, his tone steady.
"It's not his first time hijacking someone else's deal. But today? He overplayed. That'll slow him down."
"You sure?"
"No," Julian said plainly. "But I know he's not the type to back off."
Emma remained quiet, jotting something at the edge of the page. Julian watched her finish, then spoke more slowly.
"That move you pulled today was clean. Even I didn't expect you to speak."
Emma put down her pen, finally lifting her head.
"I should've spoken sooner. That German note last quarter, you got cut out of that, too."
Tomasz looked surprised. "That was Rick?"
Emma nodded. "He never said it directly. But he kept playing the 'you're not local' card."
Julian let out a small, dry laugh.
"He still thinks this floor is his private turf."
Emma said softly, "And I'm just the temp."
The line hung between them like something slightly sour.
"You're not," Tomasz said. "You've done all the audit work for the past six months. Greg sees it."
Emma didn't respond. She just began stacking the papers neatly.
"I just want to finish the quarter clean," she said.
Julian looked up at her. Their eyes met briefly.
"This isn't just about the quarter anymore," he said. "We're being watched."
Emma's voice was even.
"Then let them watch."
She picked up her notebook and stood.
"I'll be in early tomorrow. Eight sharp. I'll write the follow-up email."
Julian nodded. She walked a few steps toward the door, then turned back for one last glance.
"I know Greg won't forget today. But don't expect him to say it out loud."
Julian didn't answer.
She walked out. Her stride was steady. She didn't look back.
The office fell quiet again. Just the two of them remained.
Julian sat back down, typed a few lines, then stopped.
Tomasz was still by the sofa. His voice was lower now.
"You really going to try to get her a full-time spot?"
Julian closed the laptop and paused.
"She stood up," he said. "Not everyone does."
Tomasz gave a slight nod, like he had something to say but didn't.
"She's been solid," he added after a moment. "Not the first time she's taken a hit for you."
Julian gave a quiet "mm."
The silence settled again before Tomasz said:
"Hope Greg saw it."
Julian looked at him.
"He sees everything. He just doesn't say much."
Then he stood, slipped the folder into his bag, and zipped it shut.
The tension had passed, but they both knew,
This wouldn't be the last time someone drew a knife.