Chapter 6 - Garrett’s Downfall
At 4:45 PM, Garrett Miller arrived at the glass-and-steel headquarters of Harrison & Vance Architecture in the heart of Camelback Corridor.
He had spent the last six hours at his mother’s house, stewing in a toxic brew of Lorraine’s outrage and Tabitha’s hysterics over the declined Nordstrom card. But as he adjusted his Italian silk tie in the mirrored elevator on his way up to the executive floor, he convinced himself that none of that mattered.
In Garrett’s mind, he was still the handsome, talented rising architect who was about to secure a sixty-thousand-dollar salary bump and the prestige of a junior partnership. Once he had his own partnership draw, he reasoned, he wouldn't need Avery’s money anyway. He would show her. He would buy a house twice the size of her condo, move his mother into the master suite, and leave Avery to rot in her self-righteous isolation.
The elevator chimed. Garrett stepped out onto the executive floor, his chest puffed out, flashing his best corporate smile at the receptionist.
“Garrett Miller to see Mr. David Vance,” he said smoothly.
“Mr. Vance is expecting you, Mr. Miller. Boardroom B, straight down the hall.”
Garrett walked down the carpeted corridor, practicing his firm handshake. He pushed open the heavy frosted-glass door of Boardroom B.
The smile died on his face.
Sitting at the head of the twenty-foot conference table was David Vance, looking immaculate in a bespoke three-piece suit. But David wasn't alone. Sitting to his right was Marcus Vance, his silver hair gleaming beneath the LED track lighting. And sitting to David’s left was a uniformed process server wearing a tactical badge, with a thick stack of legal papers resting between his hands.
“Garrett,” David Vance said, not standing up to shake his hand. “Have a seat.”
Garrett’s eyes darted frantically between David and Marcus. “Mr. Vance... David... what is this? I thought this was the final interview for the partner track.”
“It was,” David said coldly. “Until eleven o'clock this morning, when my cousin Marcus informed me that my potential junior partner was being served with an emergency order of protection for domestic battery.”
Garrett turned the color of damp chalk. “Wait... no! That’s a domestic misunderstanding! Avery is exaggerating! She’s crazy, David! She’s trying to ruin my life because we had an argument about my family!”
Marcus Vance leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Garrett, I suggest you stop speaking before you dig this hole into a federal wire fraud indictment.”
Marcus slid an iPad across the table.
On the screen was the video. Garrett watched himself in full, high-definition color, hoisting the laundry bucket and hurling freezing water over Avery’s curled, sleeping form. The audio was crystal clear: *“Get up. My mom, my sister, and the kids will be here in half an hour. You have breakfast to make...”*
David Vance shook his head in slow, profound disgust. “Is that how you treat your wife, Garrett? A woman who single-handedly designed the brand identity for this entire firm? A woman who recommended you to me two years ago when you were an underpaid drafter at a strip-mall engineering outfit?”
“David, please,” Garrett gasped, his voice cracking like an adolescent’s. “You don't understand the pressure I was under! My mom was pushing me, my sister needed help—I was just trying to get her to respect my role as the head of the house!”
“In this firm,” David said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal timber, “we design buildings for Fortune 500 corporations. We deal with institutional clients who value integrity, ethics, and emotional stability. If word got out that Harrison & Vance brought on a junior partner who abuses his wife on camera and steals corporate funds to finance his mother’s casino habit, our reputation would be destroyed overnight.”
David stood up, buttoning his jacket.
“Your interview is canceled, Garrett. Your current employment as a contract drafter with our junior affiliate is terminated immediately for cause under the morality clause of your standard subcontractor agreement. You have thirty minutes to clear your desk at the satellite office before security escorts you to the curb.”
“You can’t fire me!” Garrett screamed, his voice pitching into a panic-stricken shriek. “I didn't do anything at work! This is personal! You’re taking her side!”
“Of course I’m taking her side,” David Vance said coldly, walking toward the private exit. “She has talent. She has dignity. You, Garrett, are nothing more than a liability wrapped in an expensive suit she paid for.”
As the door clicked shut behind David, the process server stood up and walked around the table.
He dropped a thick, heavy envelope directly into Garrett’s chest.
“Garrett Miller,” the server said in a flat, bored voice. “You are hereby served with an Emergency Order of Protection issued by the Maricopa County Superior Court, a Petition for Dissolution of Marriage with prenuptial enforcement, and a formal summons to appear before Judge Katherine Alvarez next Thursday at 9:00 AM. Do not approach Avery Miller. Do not contact her via phone, email, text, or third parties. Have a nice day.”
Garrett stood frozen in the center of the boardroom, holding the heavy papers against his stomach, while Marcus Vance calmly gathered his fountain pen and leather briefcase.
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“I’ll see you in court, Garrett,” Marcus said with a pleasant nod. “Tell Lorraine I said hello.”
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