The next two weeks passed slowly.
I didn't receive many calls.
The company lawyer occasionally contacted me to clarify details about the original agreement.
Each time, I answered as honestly as I could.
I didn't want to exaggerate anything.
I didn't want to make promises.
I wanted the truth.
Jeremy had started looking for another job.
He updated his résumé and contacted a few people he knew from previous projects.
He didn't tell many people what had happened at the Christmas party.
When someone asked why he had left the company, he simply said that the employment arrangement had ended.
I admired his restraint.
I knew he was hurt.
But he refused to let the experience turn him into someone bitter.
One afternoon, he came over carrying a cardboard box.
Inside were several photographs and personal items he had collected from his home office before the dismissal.
He placed the box on my dining table.
"Do you remember this?"
He pulled out a small photograph.
It showed him standing outside the company's original building years earlier.
He had been younger.
His shirt was wrinkled.
He was smiling.
I recognized the building immediately.
It was the same place where I had first met Doug's father to discuss the financing.
Jeremy looked at the photograph.
"I used to be proud of that place."
"You should be proud of the work you did."
He placed the photograph back inside the box.
"I don't know if I can look at it the same way."
I understood.
Sometimes the place itself wasn't the problem.
It was what happened there.
That evening, the company's lawyer called.
She said the review was ready for a formal discussion.
The meeting would take place the following morning.
I agreed.
Jeremy asked whether he should come.
I told him it was his choice.
He decided to join me.
The next morning, we arrived at the offices shortly before ten.
The receptionist recognized us.
She greeted us politely and directed us toward the conference room.
Doug was already inside.
So were the lawyer and the financial representative.
There were additional documents arranged neatly across the table.
The old leather folder sat in front of me.
I had brought it again.
The lawyer began.
"Thank you both for coming. We've completed the initial examination of the historical documents and the original agreement."
I listened carefully.
She explained that the company had compared the signed agreement with the records it had located.
The financial representative confirmed that the historical records contained references consistent with the original financing arrangement.
She also explained that the company had not found a document bearing my signature that clearly showed I had surrendered the ownership interest described in the agreement.
I remained still.
I had expected the review to take time.
But hearing that statement brought back the memory of signing those papers decades earlier.
The lawyer continued.
"The ownership provision is being treated as a serious matter. The company is preparing the necessary steps to address it formally."
Doug stared at the table.
I looked at him.
He didn't look toward me.
The financial representative turned another page.
She explained that the company would need to complete the appropriate accounting and corporate documentation.
The lawyer added that the final legal treatment would have to follow the company's governing documents and applicable requirements.
I nodded.
"That's understandable."
Doug finally spoke.
"Does this mean you're claiming thirty percent of everything?"
I looked at him.
"I'm asking for the ownership arrangement in the signed agreement to be recognized."
He shook his head.
"That's a significant portion."
"It was significant when I agreed to take the risk too."
He looked down.
I continued.
"Your father needed help when the company was starting. I provided it. We agreed on the terms. I kept my copy."
Doug rubbed his forehead.
"I didn't know about any of this."
I believed him.
But not knowing didn't change the history.
"I understand that you may not have known," I said. "But the agreement existed before you took over."
The lawyer interrupted gently.
"We should keep the discussion focused on the formal review."
Doug nodded.
For several minutes, everyone examined the documents.
Then the lawyer turned toward me.
"We would like to proceed with the formal recognition process, subject to completing the required corporate steps."
I looked at the pages.
The agreement was still the same.
The signatures were still there.
Nothing about the paper had changed.
Only the people reading it had changed.
"That is what I have been asking for," I said.
Jeremy sat beside me.
He looked relieved.
But he didn't smile.
There was still something unfinished.
The lawyer closed her folder.
"There is also the separate matter concerning Jeremy's dismissal."
Doug shifted in his chair.
The lawyer looked toward him.
"Would you like to address that now?"
Doug took a breath.
Then he turned toward my son.
"Jeremy, I want to discuss what happened at the Christmas party."
Jeremy looked directly at him.
"All right."
Doug paused.
"I should not have announced your dismissal in front of everyone."
My son remained silent.
Doug continued.
"It should have been handled privately."
Jeremy nodded once.
"Yes."
"I also recognize that you were not given a clear explanation at the time."
Jeremy leaned forward.
"Why did you fire me?"
Doug looked uncomfortable.
He glanced at the lawyer.
Then back at Jeremy.
He said that there had been concerns about performance and management expectations.
Jeremy listened.
Then he asked a simple question.
"Which assignment did I fail to complete?"
Doug didn't answer immediately.
Jeremy continued.
"Which deadline did I miss? Which project did I damage? Which customer complained about my work?"
The room became quiet.
Doug looked through some papers.
He mentioned general concerns.
But he didn't identify a specific failure that explained the public dismissal.
Jeremy lowered his eyes.
I could see that the uncertainty still hurt him.
The lawyer suggested that any employment records be reviewed separately.
Doug agreed.
Jeremy didn't ask to be reinstated.
He didn't ask for a promotion.
He didn't ask for money.
He simply wanted an honest explanation.
And for the first time, Doug appeared to understand that.
When the meeting ended, the lawyer explained the next administrative steps.
She said I would receive the relevant paperwork for review.
I thanked her.
I gathered my belongings.
Jeremy picked up the cardboard box he had brought with him.
Before we reached the door, Doug called my name.
I turned.
He stood beside the conference table.
"I would like to speak with you privately."
I glanced at Jeremy.
He nodded and stepped into the hallway.
Doug waited until the door closed.
Then he spoke.
"My father never told me about your contribution."
I looked at him.
"Perhaps he thought he had handled it."
Doug lowered his head.
"I've spent years believing I understood how this company was built."
I didn't interrupt.
He looked at the old leather folder in my hands.
"I should have asked questions before making assumptions."
I nodded.
"That would have helped."
He took a breath.
"I also shouldn't have treated Jeremy that way."
"No, you shouldn't have."
He didn't defend himself.
That surprised me.
I wasn't sure whether his apology came from regret or fear.
Perhaps it was a little of both.
But I had no intention of deciding that for him.
I simply said goodbye.
When I stepped into the hallway, Jeremy was waiting.
"Ready?"
I nodded.
We walked toward the elevator together.
For the first time in weeks, I felt that the company had finally begun dealing with the past instead of pretending it didn't exist.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Thirty Percent Became More Than a Financial Victory When the Company Finally Acknowledged the Woman Who Had Helped Its First Dream Survive
My Son Thought Losing His Job Was the Worst Thing That Could Happen That Night, Until I Asked One Question
Part 9 of 10
