Chapter 2

With Dad's personality, once he found out I was no longer working at Blue Harbor Seafood Select, there was no way he would keep supplying them.

As he liked to put it, "That leech of a boss exploited my daughter, and now, he wants to exploit me too? I'd love nothing more than to punch him in the gut."

I called Dad directly, no small talk, no detours. "Dad, if we stop the company from our distribution line, would it mess up the sales channels?"

There was a brief silence on the other end. His voice turned serious.

"For most products, it's fine, but for the live seafood and a few fresh categories, once they leave the port, they have to go straight into cold chain logistics. They don't store well.

"If your company's line gets cut off, they won't be able to find a buyer that big on short notice. A lot of inventory will probably go to waste. What's going on? Did something happen at your company?"

My heart sank a little. I didn't want the local suppliers and fishermen to suffer losses just because of me. I then quickly gave Dad a brief explanation and hung up.

As I was just thinking about how to secure an alternative sales channel, Cole walked over, looking awkward. "Louise… Mr. Wright, he… He said your resignation is still being processed, so you shouldn't be idle for now."

He avoided my eyes. "He wants you to sort out the warehouse."

Sorting out the refrigerated warehouse?

I raised an eyebrow and followed Cole toward the back storage area of the company. Before we even stepped inside, a thick, nauseating stench hit us head-on. It was so strong it almost made me gag.

The warehouse was in complete chaos.

Crates that were supposed to be neatly stacked were toppled over at odd angles across the floor. Sticky, murky water pooled everywhere. Dead seafood had been dumped carelessly into the corners.

Fish lay with pale, glazed-over eyes. Shrimp had turned black along their bodies. The air was thick with the stench of rot and decay.

"What happened here?" I asked, covering my mouth and nose. This wasn't a warehouse anymore. It looked more like a dumping ground.

Cole looked utterly drained. "Don't even ask. That new guy, Zachary, told Mr. Wright we need to 'cut costs and optimize operations.' Next thing you know, he cut ten warehouse clerks down to just three.

"Now, they can't even keep up with incoming shipments, let alone clean this mess."

He pointed at the mountain of crates and sighed.

"Mr. Wright said, since you're free anyway, you should get this cleaned up by the end of the day. I tried to say that a few of us could help, but he made it clear. Anyone who helps you gets fired on the spot."

I patted Cole on the shoulder but didn't say anything. I looked at the half-human-high stacks of crates. Each one was filled with ice water and rotting seafood. Every crate easily weighed over 100 pounds.

They wanted me to clean all this up alone. It was clearly designed to make things difficult for me.

I was still thinking when a mocking voice came from the doorway. "Hey, Ms. Langford, why are you just standing there? That doesn't really fit your usual get-it-done attitude, does it?"

Zachary walked in, pinching his nose with obvious disgust. "Uncle Mitch said the company's been supporting you for years. Doing a bit of labor work is just to get you moving a little. It's good for you.

"If you can't even handle something this small, then you're clearly not fit for the job. And as for severance? You can forget about that."

I glanced at him and suddenly laughed. Slowly, I raised my hand.

"First, my employment contract states my position is procurement, which is a white-collar role. Assigning me heavy manual labor is a unilateral change in job duties. I have the right to refuse."

My gaze shifted to the stacked crates. "Second, each of these boxes is estimated to weigh over 110 pounds. Occupational safety guidelines recommend that adult women should not handle loads above 44 pounds.

"You are openly assigning unsafe work conditions. If I get injured, the company will be fully liable for medical costs and workers' compensation."

My voice was calm, but every word landed with weight. "So, if the company has no professional work for me to hand over, I'll take that as confirmation that my departure process is complete. I'll pack up and go home now.

"Please ask Mr. Wright to transfer the 280 thousand dollar severance to my account as soon as possible."

With that, I no longer looked at Zachary's face as it shifted from pale to red. I turned around and walked out.

Behind me came his furious curses. "Keep that attitude to yourself, bitch! No one wants a troublemaker like you to stay!"