PART 7 – The More Carefully We Examined Lumina Tech’s Numbers, the Less Room There Was for Its Leadership to Rely on Appearances

The review meeting began shortly after lunch.

I arrived with the documents I'd marked the night before.

The team had organized its findings into three sections.

Operating expenses.

Financial projections.

Funding assumptions.

Nothing in the folder offered a complete answer yet.

But the questions were becoming more specific.

One analyst explained that Lumina Tech's expenses had risen faster than expected.

Another pointed out that some projections relied on future growth that had not yet been supported by the available figures.

I listened without interrupting.

Then I asked what information we still needed.

"We need a clearer breakdown of several costs," the analyst said. "And we need to understand the assumptions behind the revenue estimates."

"Has the company been asked to provide that?"

"Not yet. We wanted your approval first."

I nodded.

"Send the request. Keep it focused on the figures we need to verify."

The analyst wrote something down.

I continued through the report.

There were no conclusions about misconduct.

There was no basis for making that claim.

What we had was a business facing questions about its financial performance and a leadership team that needed to explain its position.

That was serious enough.

A company could look impressive from the outside while struggling to manage its resources.

It could also look troubled on paper and still have a reasonable explanation for its difficulties.

The work was to find out which situation we were dealing with.

I wanted no one to forget that.

After the meeting, I returned to my office and reviewed the proposed request before it went out.

The language was direct.

The questions were clear.

Nothing mentioned Sloane personally beyond her role as CEO.

Nothing referred to my divorce.

When I approved it, I felt relieved.

Not because the company was in trouble.

Because the process was moving forward without becoming entangled in my feelings.

I had spent enough of my marriage trying to keep different parts of my life from colliding.

This time, I could at least make sure my own decisions remained separate.

The response from Lumina Tech would take time.

In the meantime, I continued with the rest of my responsibilities.

I reviewed a proposed acquisition.

I spoke with colleagues about an investment that needed additional capital.

I read through several reports that had nothing to do with technology.

By the end of the day, my eyes were tired and my desk was covered in notes.

I gathered the papers into their folders.

One of them had a small mark beside the words Lumina Tech.

I touched the edge of the page, then put it away.

I wondered whether Sloane knew how much scrutiny the company was receiving.

She might already be preparing explanations.

She might be confident that the numbers would support her decisions.

Or she might be worried.

I had no way of knowing.

I also had no reason to guess.

That evening, Brent sent another message.

He asked whether I was enjoying my new life.

I stared at the words.

There was something almost childish about the question.

As if I had left him in order to make a point.

As if every decision I made afterward had to be a statement about him.

I typed a response, then deleted it.

I didn't want to explain that my life had not suddenly become glamorous.

I still woke early.

I still worked long hours.

I still ate simple meals when I was tired.

I still had to make difficult decisions and live with their consequences.

The difference was that I no longer had to pretend those things were less important than someone else's ambitions.

I put the phone away.

The next day, I received confirmation that Lumina Tech had been sent the request for additional information.

The review team would wait for the response and then compare it with the records already examined.

I read the confirmation and moved on.

A few hours later, my assistant brought me a separate folder for an upcoming investment discussion.

I opened it, checked the summary, and asked for one missing document.

The work continued.

That was something I had to remind myself of.

My marriage had ended, but the world had not stopped.

Businesses still needed decisions.

People still expected answers.

There were still mornings when the coffee was too strong and afternoons when the numbers refused to cooperate.

I had imagined that leaving Brent would feel like stepping into a completely different life.

Instead, it felt like returning to the one I'd been living all along, only without the constant effort to make it appear smaller.

I was still Whitney Mercer.

I still preferred quiet rooms to crowded receptions.

I still liked simple clothes.

I still had no interest in discussing my position merely to impress someone.

None of that made me less successful.

It only meant that success had never been the performance Brent expected.

Late that afternoon, I received an update from the review team.

The requested information had not yet arrived, but the team had identified additional points that needed to be checked once it did.

I approved the next stage of the work.

Then I closed the folder.

I wasn't going to anticipate the outcome.

I wasn't going to decide that Sloane had failed before she'd had the chance to explain.

And I wasn't going to rescue her simply because Brent had chosen her.

The company would be judged by the information it provided and the responsibilities its leadership had accepted.

That was the only fair way forward.

I left the office after finishing the last of my work.

Outside, Manhattan was busy with the evening rush.

People moved around me with coffee cups, shopping bags, and phones pressed to their ears.

I walked for a few blocks before heading home.

The city looked much as it had on the night of the restaurant encounter.

But I felt different.

I was no longer waiting for Brent to understand what he had lost.

I was beginning to understand what I had spent years giving away.

My attention.

My confidence.

My willingness to speak honestly about my own life.

I couldn't recover those years.

But I could stop repeating the same mistake.

Click here to continue reading: PART 8: I Had No Intention of Using My Position Against Sloane, but the Questions Facing Her Company Could Not Be Ignored