Chapter 3: Walking Away with Dignity

“Jenna, don’t get cocky. You’re still a ways from beating Sam Caldwell.”

“As far as I know, more than half the branch’s deposits and investments come from her. If you could get all that…”

“Don’t worry, Manager Whitaker. I know exactly how she keeps clients.”

“It’s just chatting and sending little gifts. Those wealthy folks love perks. Offer a small benefit and they’re all in.”

She paused, then started flattering him:

“Mainly, it’s because our branch has great products.”

“Under your amazing leadership, we’re already a regional leader. Everyone envies us for having you as our boss~”

Those words hit Whitaker right in the ego.

He was an outsider, never accepted by the old guard. Everyone resented him but didn’t dare say it to his face.

But he could feel it.

Jenna’s flattery made him beam:

“I knew I didn’t misjudge you.”

“Sam Caldwell—what’s she so arrogant about? Isn’t she just selling our products?”

Jenna echoed: “Exactly. Without your wise leadership, she’d be nowhere.”

“She thinks it’s all her.”

“She’s just a salesperson. People call her manager and she actually thinks she’s a leader?”

“No self-awareness at all.”

Their voices dropped, but I still heard Whitaker say:

“I taught you that trick about blocking the parking lot, remember?”

“If it weren’t for my guidance, you couldn’t have delayed her that long.”

“Old dogs know a few tricks. Jenna, you still have a lot to learn from me.”

They kept whispering in the office. I couldn’t listen anymore and went to HR to start my exit paperwork.

Linda from HR stared at me in shock: “What? Sam, you’re quitting?”

Her eyes got huge behind her chunky glasses. “What’s this branch gonna do without you?”

“Did Whitaker push you out?”

“Ugh, I used to think he was just clueless, but now I see he’s hopeless!”

“He’s always nitpicking and never does any real work! I’ve reworked this payroll report ten times! He just told me it was worse than the first draft!”

I calmed Linda down and told her the whole story. She immediately fast-tracked my resignation:

“I’ll push this through right now!”

She rolled her chair over, nearly knocking over her mug. “To think she dared to steal your client! And you even told everyone to look out for her back then.”

“Turns out she’s just ungrateful.”

She was angrier than me, ranting about Jenna for a while, then hesitantly asked: “So the $700,000 investment commission really goes to Jenna?”

“She just gets to reap the rewards for nothing?”

“I’m so mad I could scream. My blood pressure’s through the roof!”

I patted her on the back and gave her a sly smile: “Don’t worry, Linda. They won’t get away with it.”

My resignation letter was quickly sent to headquarters.

Linda told me in secret that Whitaker wrote a whole essay in the manager’s comments, all about how I was arrogant.

“He really knows how to stir the pot.”

“He said you neglected clients, slacked off, were never around, and just chatted during work hours.”

“Even I, in HR, know that advisors have to keep up client relationships. He, as a manager, doesn’t?”

“It’s just a shame you won’t get the severance package. That’s a lot of money.”

Looking at the just-approved resignation from headquarters, I replied calmly:

“Linda, do you know how much interest my clients’ deposits and investments generate every day?”

“Leaving a day earlier is a win for me.”

Everyone here only knows I brought in $15 million in new deposits when I was recruited.

But keeping up that growth every month isn’t just about good products or perks—honestly, without connections, it’s impossible.

With that much money, you think those business owners are just leaving it here for the tiny interest?

If it weren’t for the $150 million my dad deposited for me, and all those visits to big clients with him, I never would’ve hit these numbers.

It’s not like nobody tried to poach me.

This branch has good products, solid perks, and most importantly, it’s close to home.

My dad only has one request: spend more time at home with him.

After saying goodbye to Linda, I went back to my desk to pack up.

Over the years, I did get attached to this place.

The sunlight slanted across my desk, highlighting the faded photos tacked to my corkboard—team outings, holiday parties, even the goofy Halloween contest where I’d dressed as a dollar bill. I backed up my files to the cloud, wiped my computer, and shredded all my client notes before getting ready to leave. I paused, running my fingers over the corkboard one last time, feeling a mix of nostalgia and relief.

Unfortunately, I ran into Jenna, just back from a facial, her skin still shiny from the treatment.

She pointed dramatically at the storage box in my hands: “Sam, you actually quit?”

She tossed her shopping bag on the reception desk and leaned in, eyebrows raised, voice dripping with mock concern. “Are you afraid my numbers will beat yours next month, so you’re rushing to quit now?”

“Oh well, that’s normal. The sales champ can’t always be you.”

“Now the economy’s tough. Without connections and background like mine, it’s hard to bring in big money.”

“How about you try cold-calling for a change?”

Her petty, triumphant look—I wondered how long she’d keep laughing. I let out a bitter little laugh, shaking my head.

I rolled my eyes and shifted the box in my arms, better to avoid trouble, so I brushed off my shoulder where she touched me and replied with a smirk:

“This branch has to rely on outstanding employees like you.”

“Do your best. Don’t let Whitaker down.”

She was momentarily speechless, her face flushing as she glared at me: “You don’t need to say that!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll surpass you. You’re old news now.”

I ignored her and said goodbye to my coworkers.

They looked at me reluctantly. A few came up to hug me, saying, “If I ever strike it rich, I won’t forget you.”

At that moment, Jenna suddenly darted forward and knocked the box out of my hands.

“In such a hurry to leave, Sam, are you taking company property with you?”

“I need to check it carefully!”

My pens and photos tumbled across the carpet. I took a deep breath, willing myself not to snap. The branch was watching, but I’d already made my exit. I knelt, gathering up the scattered pieces of my career, and smiled up at Jenna, calm as ever. “Knock yourself out. Just don’t get a paper cut.” Let her have her moment. I was already gone.