Part 2My Clients Are My Real Equity

That afternoon, in the project meeting, Marcus asked me to update the team on the Mr. Thompson account.

Mr. Thompson was my biggest client.

Eight years we’d worked together.

He brought in $4 million in annual revenue.

After my report, Marcus said, “Vivian, this project is running smoothly. Make sure you keep that Thompson relationship airtight.”

“Will do.”

“Oh, and Dean is new, so let him shadow you.” Marcus gestured to the fresh-faced director next to me. “He’s a top-tier MBA, solid on theory, just needs some real-world polish.”

Dean smiled at me. “Vivian, I appreciate the guidance.”

I smiled back. “My pleasure.”

After the meeting, Sarah quietly sought me out.

“Vivian, do you know why Dean got 0.3%?”

I didn’t respond.

“His dad and Marcus were fraternity brothers at State U.”

I froze slightly.

“It was part of his contract from day one. The equity was baked into the deal.” Sarah lowered her voice even more. “Vivian, you should go talk to Marcus. Don’t let yourself get screwed.”

I shook my head.

Talk about what?

Marcus had already laid it out.

I was a foundational player; I didn’t need incentivization.

Translated, that meant: You’ve been a loyal dog for ten years. I can deny you equity, and you won’t leave.

He was betting on my immobility.

Thirty-five, mortgage for another fifteen years, and bills for my parents and my son.

Where was I supposed to go?

That night, I pulled up a decade’s worth of old work messages.

2014: “Vivian, we’re struggling right now. We’ll hold your salary for a bit. We’ll pay you back once the funding comes through.”

2016: “Vivian, hold tight on the options. We’ll lock you in after the Series B round closes.”

2018: “Vivian, the IPO is close. Just two more years of grind.”

2020: “Vivian, the pandemic hit us hard. We have to postpone the equity plan.”

2022: “Vivian, next year is definitely the year. We won’t forget you.”

2024: The stock option list came out.

My name wasn’t on it.

I tossed my phone onto the bed.

Ten years. That’s exactly how he made it worth my while.

Jake sat beside me and handed me a glass of water.

“Have you decided what to do?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe… resign?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Thirty-five. Where am I going to go if I quit?”

He didn't speak.

Neither did I.

That was the trap.

Stay, and keep being exploited.

Leave, and face an uncertain future.

Stuck.