Page 39 of True Colors

“Maybe let’s switch to the numbers,” Erin says sweetly. “She’s better with those.”

Laughter.

My ears ring.

My throat closes.

I stare at the slide, but the numbers blur.

Vijay steps in gently. “The procurement shift creates a net reduction of about 4.7% variance if⁠—”

“No,” I whisper, forcing the sound. “I c-can—can do it.”

How many times do I have to tell him that this is not how he helps me—by making me feel small?

Erin sighs loudly, flipping her hair. “We don’t have all day, Anouk.”

I swallow hard and try again.

“I-if we renegotiate the th-third-tier supplier⁠—”

The word won’t come. I choke on it.

The humiliation hits like a fist.

And then⁠—

The door opens.

Luther strides inside, shirt sleeves rolled, his jeans casual and worn.

He pauses and takes in the scene.

What does he see?

Anouk Starling, stuttering. Again!

Erin, gleaming.

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

I try again, desperate. “Th-the th⁠—”

My throat collapses.

Luther sits slowly, watching me with a blank face that feels worse than anger. Disappointment. And it stabs right through me.

I finish the presentation in a humiliating hybrid—Vijay explaining half the slides, me stumbling through the rest, Erin correcting me even when I’m right.

When it ends, no one claps. No one even looks at me.

Luther stands. “I’ll review the materials,” he says simply.

He leaves, and I stay frozen for a few seconds. Then, slowly, I gather my laptop and papers on autopilot.

Vijay touches my elbow. “You did fine, Anouk. Don’t let Erin⁠—”

“I need to w-work,” I whisper.