Chapter 88
Diana's POV
The conference room felt smaller with the three of us around the table. Lena had spread the Harrison case files between us—all the evidence I should have verified before filing.
"We move quickly," Lena said. "Withdraw the complaint, deliver a written apology, post a public statement, and compensate Mr. Harrison for legal fees and reputational damage."
"How much?" Rachel asked quietly.
"Fifteen to twenty thousand." Lena's voice was matter-of-fact. "Reynolds uses top-tier counsel. Plus the reputational harm—the rumors, the legal blog post, the internal forums."
My stomach dropped. "I'll cover it. This was my mistake."
"Diana." Lena's tone was firm. "We're partners. We handle this together."
I looked down at my hands. "I let personal feelings cloud my judgment. I almost destroyed an innocent man."
"You did," Lena agreed, and I appreciated that she didn't sugarcoat it. "But you're also the lawyer who took the sexual harassment case no one else would touch. One mistake doesn't define you."
"It almost defined Jack Harrison."
"Almost." She slid a folder toward me. "But we caught it. Now we make it right."
Inside were the prepared documents—withdrawal motion, apology letter, public statement. All precise and professional.
"The meeting's at three," Lena said. "They'll have demands. We'll meet them."
---
Reynolds Industries headquarters was all glass and steel. The receptionist directed us to the twentieth floor, and we rode up in silence.
The conference room had glass walls. Jack Harrison sat at one end, expression carefully neutral. Next to him was their general counsel. At the head of the table sat Rowan Reynolds.
I'd seen photos, but in person he radiated authority. He looked up as we entered, his gaze moving from Lena to me with cool assessment.
"Ms. Grant, Ms. Clarke, Ms. Kim." He nodded. "Please, sit."
Lena began immediately. "Mr. Reynolds, Mr. Harrison—we're here to take full responsibility."
She laid out our prepared documents. "We filed a complaint without properly verifying the evidence. As a result, Mr. Harrison's reputation was damaged. We're withdrawing the complaint immediately and issuing a formal apology."
Rowan picked up the documents and read in silence.
Then everyone looked at me.
I met Jack's eyes. "Mr. Harrison, I owe you a personal apology."
He held my gaze, and I saw the hurt beneath his neutral expression.
"This was my mistake," I said. "My mother experienced something similar to what my client described. When I heard the story, I saw my mother's pain in it. I wanted to help—to get the justice she never got."
I kept my voice steady. "But that's not an excuse. I'm supposed to be objective. I failed to verify the facts, and I nearly destroyed your reputation based on fabricated evidence. I'm truly sorry."
The silence stretched.
Rowan finally spoke. "We appreciate your directness. However, Mr. Harrison has endured significant stress from these false accusations."
He slid a paper across the table. "Our terms: immediate withdrawal, which you've agreed to. A notarized written apology. A public statement on your website. And financial compensation—twelve thousand in legal fees plus reputational damages. Total of twenty-two thousand dollars."
Rachel inhaled sharply beside me.
Lena didn't flinch. "We accept all terms."
She pulled out the prepared documents. "The withdrawal and apology are signed and notarized. The statement will be posted within twenty-four hours. We can have a check tomorrow or arrange a wire transfer."
Rowan reviewed the documents, conferring quietly with his counsel. Jack remained silent.
Finally, Rowan nodded. "These are acceptable." He looked at Jack. "Jack?"
"Wire transfer is fine," Jack said quietly.
"Good." Rowan stood. "We'll have accounting contact you tomorrow."
We all rose. Lena shook hands with Rowan and his counsel. I turned to leave, but Jack's voice stopped me.
"Ms. Clarke—wait."
Lena and Rachel moved toward the door, giving us space.
I turned back slowly, bracing for more anger.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "I just... this was messed up, but at least it's over now?"
I blinked. That wasn't what I'd expected.
"I saw your apology," he continued awkwardly. "You looked like it was really hard for you."
"Not as hard as what you went through."
He shook his head. "I kind of get it. Why you believed her." He paused. "My mom—when she was young, some guy made her all these promises. Marriage, a life together. She quit her job, moved across the country for him. Then he dumped her."
His jaw tightened. "Took her years to trust anyone again. So I know that kind of thing changes how you see the world."
Something in my chest loosened. "That doesn't make what I did okay."
"No," he agreed. "But it makes it more understandable."
Awkward silence. Jack suddenly patted his pockets. "Hang on—" He pulled out a tissue packet, and his keys clattered to the floor.
"Shit—sorry—" He crouched to gather them, face reddening.
I bent to help. "It's okay."
He straightened, holding out the tissues. "Thought you might need one."
I took them, touched despite everything. "Thank you."
"My boss wanted me to tell you something," Jack said. "He said, 'verify your evidence next time.'"
I nodded. "Fair."
"But he also said—privately—that you did good work on that sexual harassment case. The intern one."
I stared. "He knows about that?"
"Yeah. He had me look into your background." Jack scratched his head. "Found out you're pretty principled. Just made a mistake this time."
He paused. "You were trying to help someone. You just helped the wrong person."
Before I could respond, he added, "Don't give up on being a lawyer. You're good at it. Just... check your evidence first."
He gave an awkward half-smile, then headed for the elevator.
As the doors closed, I heard him mutter: "Okay, that wasn't too bad..."
I stood in the empty hallway, holding the tissues, relief and residual guilt washing over me.