Chapter 5 - Monday Morning Warfare
The Monday morning air inside Sterling & Vance Media was thick with the scent of cheap drip coffee, copier toner, and corporate anxiety.
Olivia walked through the double glass doors at precisely 8:28 a.m.
She wore a charcoal-grey Armani trouser suit—purchased via an emergency online order delivered to her apartment at dawn—paired with razor-sharp black heels that clicked against the polished concrete floor with the rhythmic precision of a marching drum. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe, immaculate knot at the nape of her neck.
Every head in the open-plan bullpen turned as she passed.
News travels fast in an advertising agency. By Sunday night, half the office already knew that Jake had moved out of Olivia’s apartment, and that Megan had spent the weekend frantically avoiding eye contact on group chat.
Olivia didn't look at them. She walked straight past her old desk, ignoring the frantic, deer-in-the-headlights expression on Megan’s face three desks away, and headed directly toward the executive corner offices.
As she passed Megan’s desk, she paused for a fraction of a second.
Megan, looking pale and hastily put together in a cream silk blouse, half-rose from her chair. "Olivia... look, I wanted to say—"
"Save your breath, Megan," Olivia said, her voice dropping into a tone so cold and low that it cut right through the hum of the office. "You're going to need it when you try to explain to the creative director why your quarterly metrics are down twenty percent."
Megan’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
Olivia didn't break stride. She pushed open the door to her new private office—the corner room with the floor-to-ceiling view of the Seattle waterfront—and closed it firmly behind her.
Ten minutes later, a soft knock rattled the glass.
David Sterling, the senior managing partner and co-founder of the agency, walked in without waiting for an invitation. He looked nervous, his tie slightly askew, holding a thick manila folder.
"Olivia," Sterling said, offering a tight, diplomatic smile. "I heard about... well, personal matters. If you need a few days off to get your head straight—"
"My head has never been clearer, David," Olivia interrupted, sitting down behind her new mahogany desk and opening her laptop. "I understand you're meeting with Vanguard Global’s regional director on Wednesday to discuss the pitch."
Sterling blinked, surprised by her immediate pivot to business. "Yes. Well, we were planning to send a joint team. Myself, Paul from creative, and... and Megan Davis."
Olivia looked up, her dark eyes locking onto her boss with a freezing intensity that made him shift uncomfortably.
"Megan Davis has zero experience managing international logistics accounts," Olivia said flatly. "If you send her into that meeting, Vanguard will walk out in ten minutes."
"Now, hold on, Olivia," Sterling stammered, adjusting his collar. "Megan has been working very closely with Jake on the initial research, and—"
The intercom on Sterling’s desk buzzed loudly.
The receptionist’s panicked voice crackled through the speaker: "Mr. Sterling! Line one! It’s... it’s Julian Vale. He’s holding for you."
Sterling’s face drained of color. He slammed his hand onto the desktop, punching the speakerphone button as if answering a live grenade.
"Mr. Vale! This is David Sterling, managing partner at—"
"Cut the pleasantries, Sterling," Julian’s cold, resonant voice boomed through the office, echoing off the glass walls. "I am reviewing your agency's preliminary proposal for the Vanguard Global account. It is mediocre, uninspired, and completely out of touch with European market realities."
Sterling clutched the edge of the desk, beads of sweat instantly forming on his forehead. "Mr. Vale, please, our team has been working round the clock—"
"Your team is incompetent," Julian interrupted smoothly. "Which is why I am altering the terms of our partnership. Vale Capital will only back the Sterling & Vance pitch if lead strategy and executive presentation are placed one hundred percent under the control of Olivia Parker."
Silence dropped over the office so heavy you could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights.
Sterling stared at Olivia, his mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief.
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Olivia didn't blink. She simply leaned back in her leather chair, steepled her fingers, and stared calmly back at her boss.
"Well, Sterling?" Julian’s voice purred through the speakerphone. "Do we have a deal, or shall I award the account to your primary competitor across the street by noon?"
