I sit there patiently and wait for him to put it all together, to do the addition and subtraction and realize that the end result is that he needs to do the right thing.
“You’re blackmailing me.” He’s sputtering and probably a little incredulous. I’m sure he never saw this coming from sweet little Jenny, the den mother for the entire software development crew, the girl he trusted with making sure all of his products left the building totally aboveboard. If it weren’t for me, he’d already be out of business, and we both know that. He needs to honor that. I’m proud of myself, sitting up straighter with the stronger backbone I have in me now.
“Sorry,” I say, “but I checked before I came over here to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid that could get me in trouble. This isn’t blackmail; this is a business negotiation. I have the legal right and standing to file a suit. This is not frivolous. I’m doing you a favor by letting you know what the law is, how the world of venture capital works, and what my intentions are. Did I mention my former college roommate is a lawyer at Hancock and Finley?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but I cut him off.
“I talked to her about what happened here, and she says I have a case. She says Louisiana’s civil code supports my argument. So this isn’t going to go away, Frank. Sorry to rain on your parade, but that’s what happens when you try to screw me over. If I file a lawsuit, it’s going to be on the books for at least the next couple of years.”
I put my hands on the arms of my chair and lean in, staring him down, angry that he’s put me in this position and made me feel dirty. I don’t like business negotiations, even when they are legal. I prefer that people just treat me fairly of their own accord. But if he wants to get down and get into it, I’ll play. This is the new Jenny. Jenny, the girl who goes on nighttime special ops and drops viruses on people’s computers while they’re lying in bed dreaming of sugarplum fairies. “So . . . ,” I say, using my most threatening voice, “do you want to dance with me, Frank? Because I’ll dance. I can do the salsa, the tango, I can do the cha-cha, the can-can, the . . .”
“Enough!” he shouts, standing and leaning over his desk to blast me in the face with his terrible coffee breath. “I’ve heard enough from you. You think your little threats mean anything to me? They don’t, Jenny. You know what you are? You’re just a sad, overweight, desperate loser, who’s got nothing better to do than work sixty hours a week and neglect her kids in the process. I feel sorry for you. That’s all. Just pity, nothing more, nothing less.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out kind of shrill, even for him. “So I’ll tell you what . . . I’ll go ahead and pay you your four months’ severance, and I’m going to laugh all the way to the bank. You want to know why? Because I would’ve paid you more than that, if you hadn’t been such a bitch about it. But you made the offer and I’m accepting it. You can call your little friend at that law office and ask her about oral contracts if you think you’re going to get another fucking cent out of me.”
I shrug. “Fine. That’s all I wanted.” His words are stinging badly, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of crying over it. I’ll bawl later, out in my car when I’m alone, though. Overweight? That was low. Dev’s comment to me, that he could whip my butt into shape in six months, has me wishing he were here to punch this guy in the face for me. He’d do it, too. He’d be like Hellboy, not caring about proper office etiquette. Boom! Everything in splinters around us. My avenging angel, there for me just like he was on the phone last night.
Frank glances up and scowls, then he gestures wildly at somebody behind me. I turn around and catch no fewer than four people staring through the glass at us. They probably heard every single word we said. I don’t care, though. They know it’s true. They’ll probably throw a party in my honor at the local bar after work.
I turn around to face Frank, smiling. “Go ahead and write that check so I can get out of here.”
Frank picks up the telephone and calls accounting, making the arrangements for me to pick up my severance. Part of me feels like the champion of the world, and the other part of me feels dirty. I hate having to threaten people to make them do the right thing. Miles is the only one I’ve had to do that with before, and it always makes me feel like the one who should be apologizing.
Frank hangs up the phone and starts pushing papers around on his desk. “The check is waiting for you in accounting. Go get it and take your things. And make sure you leave your security card at the front desk when you go.”
I stand. “Frank . . . I just want to say one more thing.” I wait until he’s looking at me before I finish. “If you ever say anything untrue about my service here in this office, you’ll be very, very sorry.”