Chapter 2 - MS. STERLING
James arrived twenty-seven minutes early.
Taylor knew because she watched the security feed from her office.
He sat in Conference Room A with a paper cup of coffee and a folder on his lap.
Older.
Heavier.
Still James.
Taylor’s first instinct was not revenge.
It was fear.
That irritated her.
She had negotiated debt restructurings against billion-dollar firms. She had closed factories, saved factories, sued vendors, fired executives, and survived rooms full of men who mistook youth for weakness.
Yet seeing her father adjust his tie made some eighteen-year-old part of her want to run.
Elaine Sterling once told Taylor that fear became useful when you stopped pretending it wasn’t there.
So Taylor let herself feel it.
Then she walked in.
James stood automatically.
“Ms. Sterling, thank you for—”
He stopped.
The color disappeared from his face.
Taylor closed the door.
“Good morning, Dad.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
She sat.
James remained standing.
“Taylor?”
“That’s usually how names work.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I own the company acquiring yours.”
“No.”
“Technically Sterling Meridian owns it. I lead the transaction.”
James stared.
Then laughed once.
Nervous.
“This is some kind of joke.”
Taylor opened his email.
“You asked me not to fire you.”
His eyes dropped to the page.
Then to her.
“I didn’t know.”
“I noticed.”
He sat slowly.
For one second neither spoke.
Then James became James again.
His shoulders stiffened.
“You changed your name.”
“Professionally.”
“You hid.”
“You threw me out.”
“You stole from us.”
Taylor’s expression hardened.
“There it is.”
James leaned forward.
“I filed a police report. We had records.”
“You had a story.”
“I had an empty college account.”
“So did I.”
His jaw tightened.
Taylor opened the Hartwell vendor file.
“Miller Industrial Supply.”
James went still.
That reaction gave her more than words.
“You remember it.”
“Old company.”
“Yours.”
“Years ago.”
“Why does Hartwell Packaging have supplier payments linked to it?”
James frowned.
“It supplied parts.”
“After it supposedly closed?”
“Assets were transferred.”
“To Millstone Services?”
He stopped.
Taylor watched him.
Then James smiled faintly.
Not kindly.
“You think you found something.”
“I know I found something.”
He leaned back.
“You still do this. You decide you understand a situation, then charge at it.”
Taylor felt anger rise.
He saw it.
Used it.
Exactly like before.
Then James said:
“If this meeting is about my job, I want HR present.”
Smart.
Taylor nodded.
“You should.”
“And if it’s about family, I’m leaving.”
“Also smart.”
James stood.
At the door he turned.
“You want revenge? Fine. But if you use this acquisition to punish me, I’ll make sure every board member knows who you really are.”
Taylor looked at him.
“You already put it in writing.”
He frowned.
She tapped his email.
My daughter was a thief.
James’s confidence flickered.
Then he said:
“I can prove it.”
And walked out.
Taylor stared at the closed door.
Because five years earlier she would have called that a bluff.
May you like
Now she knew better.
James never threatened without having prepared something first.
