The ballroom at the Marriott smelled like cheap cologne and nostalgia. A banner read “Franklin State Class of 2014—Ten Years!” and I stood near the bar, pretending I wasn’t counting exits. I hadn’t planned to come. But my old roommate, Marcus, had insisted. “Just show your face, man. You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to.”
Famous last words.
I was halfway through my drink when I heard the click of heels and that familiar laugh—sharp, rehearsed, designed to draw attention. I turned and there was Brittany Hale, hair perfect, smile brighter than it used to be when we were twenty-one and broke.
She didn’t greet me like a normal person. She confronted me.
“Ethan,” she said, eyes flicking over my suit like she was searching for flaws. “Wow. You actually made it.”
I forced a polite smile. “Hey, Brittany.”
Her friends hovered behind her, waiting for entertainment. Brittany leaned closer, voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you… I found someone with real drive.” She emphasized the word like it was a weapon. “Someone ambitious. Someone who doesn’t settle.”
I felt heat crawl up my neck. Ten years and she still knew where to press. Back in college, she’d dumped me right before graduation, telling me I was “comfortable” and “not hungry enough.” That was Brittany-speak for not impressive enough.
I lifted my glass. “Good for you.”
Her smile tightened. “Oh, it is good. Actually… he’s here.” She turned and waved. “Ryan!”
A tall guy in a crisp blazer walked over, nervous but trying hard to look confident. Ryan Caldwell. He extended his hand. “Hey, man. Brittany’s told me a lot.”
“Has she?” I shook his hand.
Brittany slid her arm through his like she was claiming a prize. “Ryan just got hired at my company,” she announced, eyes never leaving mine. “He’s already moving up. It’s refreshing to be with someone who understands success.”
Ryan laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s… a big opportunity. Honestly, I’m still in shock.”
Across the room, Marcus watched me, eyebrows raised like, You okay? I gave him a subtle nod.
Then Ryan said the one sentence that made the noise in the room feel like it dropped a full octave.
“So, Ethan… Brittany said you know people. Do you think you could introduce me to my new boss?” He swallowed. “The guy who runs the company.”
Brittany’s smile widened, triumphant. “Oh, he’s important. Very hard to reach.”
I set my drink down slowly, my fingers suddenly steady.
Ryan waited, hopeful.
Brittany waited, smug.
And I looked Ryan dead in the eye and said, “You already have.”
Part 2
For a second, Ryan just stared at me like I’d spoken another language. Brittany’s expression didn’t move—she held it in place like a mask—until the corners began to tremble.
“That’s… funny,” Ryan said, forcing a laugh. “No, I mean—seriously. I start Monday. Brittany told me the CEO likes to keep a low profile.”
Marcus appeared at my side as if he’d teleported. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Ethan doesn’t do jokes about that,” he said, grinning. “Trust me.”
Brittany blinked hard. “Ethan, stop.” Her voice dropped, suddenly sharp and private. “Don’t do this. Not here.”
I kept my tone calm. “I’m not doing anything, Brittany. Ryan asked a question.”
Ryan’s face flushed. “Wait—are you saying you’re…?”
I exhaled. The truth wasn’t dramatic to me anymore. It was paperwork and late nights and a thousand decisions no one applauded. “I’m the founder,” I said. “We rebranded two years ago, but it’s the same company.”
Brittany’s eyes flicked around the room, calculating how many people had heard. Unfortunately for her, plenty. A couple near the dessert table had gone quiet. Someone stopped mid-laugh. Even the DJ seemed to lower the music by instinct.
Brittany recovered first, because she always did. She pasted on a bright smile and gave a theatrical little chuckle. “Oh my God. Ethan, you always loved attention.”
Marcus’s grin widened. “Yeah,” he said. “Attention. That’s why he keeps his name off half the marketing and lets the product speak.”
Ryan’s hand dropped from the air where it had been hovering. “Brittany… you said you worked there.”
“I do,” Brittany snapped, then softened instantly and touched Ryan’s arm. “I’m in partnerships. I’ve been there forever. Ethan and I—” She glanced at me like she could rewrite history with eye contact. “We go way back.”
Ryan’s voice got smaller. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Brittany’s smile strained. “Because it wasn’t relevant.”
I watched Ryan’s face as the pieces clicked together—her bragging, her little digs, the way she’d set this up to humiliate me. He wasn’t stupid. He was just new to her.
Ryan turned to me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine,” I replied. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Brittany stepped closer, lowering her voice like she was offering peace. “Ethan… can we talk? Like adults?”
“Sure,” I said. “But not like this.” I nodded toward Ryan. “If you’re going to build your life on someone, don’t use them as a prop.”
Her face hardened. “You’re enjoying this.”
Before I could answer, Ryan pulled his arm away from her touch. It was subtle, but it landed like a slap.
“I need air,” he murmured, and walked away toward the hallway.
Brittany watched him go, then turned back to me with fury so quiet it felt dangerous. “You just ruined my night,” she whispered.
I leaned in, equally quiet. “No, Brittany. You planned to ruin mine. It just didn’t go the way you rehearsed.”
And that’s when she said something that made my stomach drop.
“You think this ends here?” she hissed. “I know things about your company you don’t want people hearing.”
Part 3
For a beat, I didn’t respond. Not because I was afraid of her gossip—Brittany had always exaggerated to feel powerful—but because I recognized the tactic. When she couldn’t win with charm, she reached for leverage.
I straightened my tie and kept my voice level. “If you have a concern, you can email HR like everyone else.”
Brittany’s eyes flashed. “HR?” She scoffed. “You’re acting like I’m some random employee. Ethan, I made connections for you. I could make things difficult.”
Marcus shifted beside me, his grin gone. “Careful,” he said. “Threatening your CEO at a public event is… bold.”
Brittany’s mouth opened, then closed. She realized how it sounded—because now people were fully watching. She adjusted, switching to performative sadness. “Wow,” she said louder, letting her voice carry. “So this is what success did to you. Cold. Petty.”
I didn’t rise to it. I simply said, “I’m not petty. I’m honest.”
That’s when Ryan came back from the hallway. His eyes were red like he’d splashed water on his face. He looked at Brittany, then at me, like he was choosing reality over the story he’d been sold.
“Brittany,” he said quietly, “you told me you were basically running the place.”
Brittany froze. “I never said that.”
“You did,” Ryan replied, voice stronger now. “You said you’d ‘built’ the partnerships team. You said you could ‘get me in’ anywhere. You told me you were dating someone with real drive because you were tired of losers.” His jaw tightened. “And you made a whole scene tonight just to… what? Prove something?”
A few people nearby shifted uncomfortably. Someone coughed. Brittany looked around, desperate for allies, but her friends had suddenly become fascinated with their phones.
Ryan turned to me. “Ethan, I don’t want special treatment,” he said. “But I also don’t want to start my job under… whatever this is.”
I nodded. “You won’t. If you join, you’ll be evaluated like anyone else. If you don’t, I respect that too.”
Brittany’s voice cracked, angry and thin. “Ryan, don’t embarrass me.”
Ryan stared at her like he was seeing her clearly for the first time. “You embarrassed yourself.”
He walked away again—this time not for air, but toward the exit.
Brittany stood there, breathing hard, then snapped her gaze back to me. “Are you happy now?”
I picked up my drink, the ice clinking softly. “I’m not happy,” I said. “I’m just done letting you write the story.”
I left the reunion early with Marcus, stepping into the cool night like I’d been holding my breath for ten years. My phone buzzed once—an unknown number.
Text: This is Ryan. Can we talk about the job? And… what she’s really like?
I stared at the message, realizing this wasn’t over. Not for Brittany. Not for Ryan. Not for me.
If you were in my shoes—would you answer him… or let him figure it out the hard way? Drop a comment with what you’d do, because I’m genuinely curious how most Americans would handle this kind of real-life workplace drama.
