Even if they’re offering me full equity partnership, it doesn’t change the way I feel. It doesn’t change me. Mrs. Farley was right: I’ve blossomed. I’m not a husk anymore.
Why would I go back to being a husk?
I clear my throat.
“It’s a tremendous honor to be offered such an amazing opportunity,” I say earnestly. “And I’m very grateful. Truly. However … the reason I came back wasn’t to get my job back. It was to clear my name. To prove that I didn’t make a mistake.” I can’t help shooting a look at Guy. “The truth is, since leaving Carter Spink I’ve … well … moved on. I have a job. Which I very much enjoy. So I won’t be taking up your offer.”
There’s a stunned silence.
“Thank you,” I add again, politely. “And … er … thanks for the champagne.”
“Is she serious?” says someone at the back. Ketterman and Elldridge are exchanging frowns.
“Samantha,” says Ketterman, coming forward. “You may have found opportunities elsewhere. But you are a Carter Spink lawyer. This is where you trained, this is where you belong.”
“If it’s a question of salary,” adds Elldridge, “I’m sure we can match whatever you’re currently—” He glances at Guy. “Which law firm has she gone to?”
“Wherever you are, I’ll speak to the senior partner,” says Ketterman in a businesslike way. “The personnel director … whoever would be appropriate. We’ll sort this out. If you give me a number.” He’s taking out his BlackBerry.
My mouth twists. I desperately want to laugh.
“There isn’t a personnel director,” I explain. “Or a senior partner.”
“There isn’t a senior partner?” Ketterman looks impatient. “How can there not be a senior partner?”
“I never said I was working as a lawyer.”
It’s as if I’ve said I think the world is flat. I have never seen so many flummoxed faces in my life.
“You’re … not working as a lawyer?” says Elldridge at last. “What are you working as, then?”
I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. But on the other hand, why shouldn’t they know?
“I’m working as a housekeeper.” I smile.
“ ‘Housekeeper?’ ” Elldridge peers at me. “Is that the new jargon for ‘troubleshooter’? I can’t keep up with these ridiculous job titles.”
“You’re on the compliance side?” says Ketterman. “Is that what you mean?”
“No, it’s not what I mean,” I say patiently. “I’m a housekeeper. I make beds. I cook meals. I’m a domestic.”
God, I wish I had a camera. Their faces.
“You’re literally … a housekeeper?” stutters Elldridge at last.
“Uh-huh.” I look at my watch. “And I’m fulfilled and I’m relaxed and I’m happy. In fact, I should be getting back. Thank you,” I add to Ketterman. “For listening to me. You’re the only one who did.”
“You’re turning down our offer?” says Oliver Swan incredulously.
“Samantha, this is crazy!”
“No, it’s not!”
“I can’t let you ruin your career out of … out of … pique!” he calls, and I wheel round indignantly, nearly falling down the stairs.
“I’m not doing this out of pique!”
“I know you’re angry with us all!” Guy joins me on the staircase, breathing hard. “I’m sure it makes you feel really good to turn us down, to say you’re working as a housekeeper—”