She had done the work. She had waited for the right time. She had pushed when it was time to push. She dried her hands and went back to her desk. Marcus was on a call.
He looked over when she sat down. One glance quick a question in it. She gave the smallest nod. He looked back at his screen. At 12:30, Priya appeared again, this time with her own lunch and the look of someone who had something to say and was going to say it in the order she'd arranged.
She sat across from Nora and said, "The client's internal team was already running their own numbers. They identified the same discrepancy last week. They were deciding whether to bring it up before the presentation or after." Norah said before or after signing the next phase. Yes, she let this land. So, we weren't the only ones who saw it.
We were the ones who flagged it internally first. In writing with a timestamp, Priya took a bite of her salad. That's a different position to be in than the alternative. The alternative being being the team that presented numbers the client already knew were wrong without having said a word. Norah thought about Grant's expression in that office.
The calculation going sideways. She thought, "He knows this. He knows we're not the problem. We're just the part of the problem that's documented. The presentation, she said, will be rescheduled.
Prius said the client requested a two-week delay to allow for the figures to be corrected and represented. She paused. They specifically requested the analysts who prepared the original financial model be available for the follow-up meeting. Norah sat with this. That meant the client had already been briefed on who done what.
That meant someone, the external compliance lead, someone parallel had included that detail. That meant the documentation trail that was clean going back to week one had been read by people outside this building. She said Grant is managing the situation. Prius said in a tone that carried its own weight. The partner level conversation about the account structure is apparently already scheduled.
Norah looked at her. You knew this was how it would go. Priya considered this. I thought it was the most likely outcome if the documentation was clean and the client was already suspicious. She paused.
I didn't know about the client's internal audit until this morning, but you'd have done it the same way. Prius said, "I filed my concern in August. I was told it was under review. I moved laterally instead of up." She met Norah's eyes. You went further.
You did it with your name on it. Something in the way she said it was not quite compliment and not quite warning and was probably both. Norah said, "I had documentation. You had courage." Prius said simply like it was just another fact about the situation. Then she picked up her lunch and stood.
The rescheduling notice goes out this afternoon. You'll want to be at your desk. He left. Norah sat at her desk and was at her desk when the rescheduling notice came through at 2:47. Copied to the full Weston team, authored by Diane, who had apparently been briefed and was handling it with the specific controlled neutrality of someone who had also decided she'd known about the discrepancy and had also been careful about it.
Marcus read it, he typed something, deleted it, typed something else, he sent it. You doing okay? She typed back. Yeah. She looked at the email.
She looked at the floor. She thought about the tie place on Saturday, the lunch special, 11:45 in the parking lot. She thought about Lily deciding she was the best choice to play the queen and not being wrong about it. Marcus, good. For what it's worth, and I know it's a lot.
What you did was exactly right. She typed, "It's a lot, Marcus. I know, Marcus. You want to get out of here at 5? I found a place with a better pool table." She stared at this.
Nora, better how Marcus level pockets the right size. Felt that was put on in this decade. Nora, that's an extremely low bar. Marcus, I know. Still clearing it.
She smiled. She put her phone down. She went back to work. At 5:15, she was shutting down her laptop when Grant Ellison came back down the stairs from the fourth floor. He crossed the open floor toward the elevator.
His jacket was on, briefcase in hand earlier than usual, the walk slightly less unhurried than it normally was. He passed her disc. He stopped. He looked at her, and his expression was the most honest it had been in any room she'd shared with him. Not warm, not apologetic, but something she recognized as the specific face of a person who had arrived at a correct understanding of a situation too late to change its shape.
He said, "The Western representation is a significant opportunity." She said, "Yes, we'll be ready." He nodded once and went to the elevator and the doors closed. And that was the last thing Grant Ellison said to her that ever carried two meanings at once. She picked up her bag. Marcus was waiting by the stairs. They walked out together, not in any way that required comment or explanation, just two people leaving the office at the same time, which happened every day, which meant nothing unless you knew what it meant.
On the sidewalk, he said, "How was the meeting with Grant?" The real version, she said. He told me I was very sure of myself for someone 18 months in. Marcus walked for a second. What did you say? I told him I was sure of the numbers.
He was quiet. Then he said, "That's exactly right. I know." She said, "You do." He said, "And there was something in it that was not surprise. Had never been surprised. She understood now." Looking back at 9 months of not quite surprised, just a man who had known this about her for a while and was glad she was catching up to herself.