Chapter 2

Twenty-five hundred dollars.

I stared at the bank alert on my phone, then looked at the printed hotel restaurant receipt in my hand.

That was the price of last night’s victory.

To secure that million-dollar contract from our client, I had paid out of my own pocket to host their project manager and lead engineers at a five-star hotel.

By the time the whiskey ran dry, we had finalized the details, and they signed the contract right there at the table.

"It was worth it," I told myself.

When I got back to the office, I filled out the expense report, attached the receipts, the contract copy, and a detailed explanation, then sent it to finance.

Three days later, it was rejected.

A cold, robotic line of text sat in the status section:

"After review, this expense has been deemed a voluntary personal action and does not meet the company’s standard for business entertainment reimbursement."

I went straight to the finance office. The finance manager, Bradley, casually tossed my printed report onto his desk.

He took a slow sip of his coffee and said, "Look, Logan, the system is clear. If it’s rejected, it’s rejected. Nothing I can do."

"But this money was spent to close the Apex Tech deal," I said, clenching my fists and forcing my voice to remain calm. "You know how critical this contract is for our company’s Q4 targets."

"Hey, I'm just the finance guy," Bradley said, waving his hand dismissively. "Save the speech. I just follow the guidelines. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m buried in paperwork."

I stared at him, took the rejected paper from his desk, and walked out without another word.

Next, I went to my direct supervisor, Arthur Vance, the department manager.

Arthur was in his mid-forties, with perfectly styled hair and a sharp suit. He leaned back in his leather chair, listened to my explanation, glanced at the rejected report, and threw it on his desk.

"Logan," he said, using that patronizing, fatherly tone he loved so much. "I heard about this. But finance has their rules. You didn't submit a pre-approval request before taking them out."

"Arthur, it was an emergency," I argued. "The client’s executives only had that one free night. I had to make a move. And I got the contract. It’s worth a million dollars."

"And you did a great job. The company will remember your contribution," Arthur said. He stood up, walked over, and patted my shoulder. The luxury watch on his wrist caught the light.

"But rules are rules."

"You're young, Logan. You need to keep your eyes on the long game. Don't sweat the small stuff."

"Sometimes, taking one for the team is a blessing in disguise."

His hand on my shoulder was warm, but his eyes were filled with condescension.

I looked at his smug face, then down at the flimsy receipt on his desk. I nodded.

"I understand, Arthur."

I picked up the receipt, turned around, and left his office.

Back at my desk, I folded the $2,500 receipt once, twice, and tucked it into the deepest corner of my wallet.

Oh, I was going to get this money back. With interest.