Chapter 7 - THE COLD REALITY
(Word count: ~1,510 words)
In a small, windowless office on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio, the air smelled of stale coffee, cheap floor cleaner, and exhaust fumes.
Camden Pierce sat behind a scuffed metal desk, staring at a computer monitor that displayed a queue of thirty rental cars requiring oil changes and interior detailing.
He was wearing a dark blue polyester polo shirt with the logo BUDGET FLEET MANAGEMENT embroidered over his left chest.
His phone buzzed on the desk.
It was his mother, calling from Florida.
Camden hesitated for three seconds before picking up the receiver. “Hey, Mom.”
“Camden, honey,” his mother’s frantic voice echoed through the speaker. “I just received a notice from the country club in Naples. They said my secondary membership card has been canceled because the master billing account under Pierce Aero was terminated!”
Camden closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cold metal edge of his desk. “Mom... I told you three weeks ago. I don't run Pierce Aero anymore. I don't have corporate accounts.”
“Well, can’t you call Vivian?” his mother demanded, her tone laced with sharp annoyance. “She was always so reasonable! Surely she wouldn't leave your own mother without her tennis club membership over a minor marital dispute!”
A bitter, hysterical laugh broke from Camden’s throat.
“A minor marital dispute?” Camden rasped, staring at the grease stains on his worn hands. “Mom, Vivian wiped me out. She didn't just divorce me; she erased me from the entire Eastern seaboard. If I call Vivian, her security guards will have me arrested for violating the five-year non-contact order.”
There was a long, stunned silence on the line.
“So... you’re really just working at an auto rental yard?” his mother asked, her voice dropping into horrified disbelief.
“I manage thirty-two used Sedans, Mom,” Camden said flatly. “I make forty-five thousand dollars a year. My apartment has a radiator that clanks all night, and I eat canned soup for dinner.”
“Oh, Camden...” his mother whimpered, the reality finally sinking in.
“I have to get back to work, Mom,” Camden said quietly, hanging up the phone before she could say another word.
He stood up, grabbing a clipboard off the hook behind his door, and walked out into the damp, cold rental car yard.
As he walked past a silver mid-size sedan, he looked up at a giant digital billboard towering over the nearby interstate highway.
On the billboard was a striking, high-definition photograph of Vivian.
She was wearing a sleek navy suit, standing proudly in front of a brand-new supersonic corporate jet, her eyes sharp, confident, and radiant.
The bold black lettering beside her read:
ALDEN GLOBAL AVIATION: REDEFINING THE SKIES WITH UNCOMPROMISING EXCELLENCE. VIVIAN ALDEN PIERCE, CEO & CHAIRWOMAN.
Camden stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, clutching his wooden clipboard, the cold rain soaking through his polyester polo shirt.
Millions of commuters drove past that billboard every day, seeing the woman who ruled an empire.
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And only Camden knew that he had once held her hand, shared her home, and possessed her total devotion—until his own foolish, arrogant ego drove him to throw it all away for a woman who didn't even know how to pay for her own lunch.
He lowered his head, pulled his hood over his face, and walked slowly back into the garage.
