The Nerd Ascension Pt. 01

Author's Note: This two-part story is a follow-up to The Nerd Conquest.

*****

Chapter One

Brooke sat at her desk and scanned the empty classroom. The twenty-eight-year-old teacher was about to lose the job she loved. It would be her fourth position lost since graduating college six years earlier.

The sides of her lips curled slightly upward as she considered which excuse her principal would offer for her termination. Brooke assumed he would cite budget cuts or some sort of restructuring. One of her previous employers actually attempted to fire her for cause and ended up paying her a minimal wrongful termination settlement. Simple budget cuts are the smart way to get rid of someone; this Brooke understood all too well.

In a way, Brooke didn't blame the principal, the school system, or even her ineffective teacher's union. Like her, the system only served as a pawn in a much larger scheme. She couldn't fault the others for playing their part in her drama any more than she could personally accept responsibility for falling into this situation in the first place.

Brooke's problems all started when she was a senior in high school. Instead of enjoying a final year with her friends, she had to move to a different town and build all new relationships. Unfortunately, what started out as a rough senior year of high school turned into a decade of broken dreams and heartbreak.

Brooke's father, a college professor, got himself into trouble with one of his students. Unfortunately, that pupil, Janice Barnette, was looking for much more than a simple teacher-student fling. She secretly videotaped several of their meetings and even tricked him into a compromising situation at one of the sororities. Despite claims that he never had actual intercourse with Janice or anyone at the sorority, he lost his job.

Even after Brooke's father moved to another school, Janice continued to use her leverage against him. To avoid further embarrassment, he basically paid for Janice's education in addition to numerous miscellaneous expenses.

Determined to help her father escape Janice's blackmail, Brooke enrolled at his former university. During her freshman year, she made friends with Janice and eventually participated in extortion schemes against several other college students. She was committed to winning Janice's trust at almost any cost.

One of their victims eventually helped Brooke break into Janice's computer and steal the evidence against her father. Mark was different than the other guys Janice entrapped, however. He wasn't some pervert stalker or creep; he was just a coed who found himself at the wrong time and place.

Mark was a stereotypical genius, great with equations and computers but not so skilled with personal relationships. In a strange way, Brooke and Mark had formed an effective team. She used her social acumen to work her way into Janice's inner circle, and he used his computer savvy to secure evidence against both the professor and him.

Unfortunately, Brooke also took advantage of Mark's social limitations and used his situation for her own amusement. While she helped him secure his freedom from Janice, she also took every opportunity to humiliate him along the way.

After securing the damning evidence, Brooke reached out to her father and let him know that he was off the hook. She also confronted Janice and warned her father's tormentor to back off. Brooke figured she would never hear from Janice again; she was wrong.

Less than a year after Janice graduated college, Brooke's father divorced her mother and quit his most recent teaching job. While he denied as much, Brooke knew the divorce was somehow connected to Janice. Within a few years, the former professor was bankrupt and substitute teaching at a local high school.

Brooke eventually graduated and embarked on a teaching career of her own. She met a nice guy and planned to start a family. Despite her father's combination of poor decisions and bad luck, she was finally enjoying her life.

Two years into Brooke's first teaching job, her world crashed in on itself. Her problems started when she found a bouquet of lilies on her classroom desk. At first, she thought the flowers were a gesture from her fiancé, but she was wrong. The note on the bouquet simply read "Like father, like daughter." She realized immediately that the gift was from Janice, and that they weren't a kind gesture at all; they were a message, a threat even.

That same afternoon, Brooke lost her first job. Despite her positive performance reviews, the superintendent told her that the school district was restructuring and had to cut her position. Less than a month later, her fiancé broke up with her; he used some lame excuse about the heart wanting what it wanted and insisted that the breakup hurt him more than it could ever hurt her. Bullshit.

Over the next few years, Brooke lost another fiancé and two more jobs. Now she was going to lose her fourth job, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew Janice was somehow behind everything, but there was nothing she could do to prove it; she wouldn't even know where to start.

Brooke didn't even bother meeting with her boss. Instead, she boxed up her belongings and left her school keys in the desk drawer. She had been through enough layoffs to understand that she would get a month of severance pay as negotiated by her ineffective teacher's union. She would receive her last check via certified letter in a week to ten days. She also realized that it would be tough to find a fifth teaching job since she had already been laid off from every district in the area.

Brooke's mind raced as she drove out of the teacher's parking lot for the final time. She had no idea how to proceed with her life and career. Her bills were already piling up from several periods of unemployment. Her family was broke, and she didn't have time to go back to college. It was more than she could bear. Once a safe distance from the school, she pulled her dated red Corolla into a gas station parking lot, dropped her head to the steering wheel, and cried.

Eventually, Brooke managed to refocus. She had never been a quitter and wasn't about to give up now. She had no idea how she would deal with her current crisis, but she was prepared to press on with her life. She would worry about the specifics later. For the time being, she would go home, take a warm bath, and drink a glass of wine.

The drive home felt like it took hours even though she lived only a short distance from her former workplace. As Brooke pulled into her driveway, she was surprised to find a black SUV parked in front of her garage. She couldn't figure out who would show up unannounced at such a difficult time; her only guess was that Janice might be paying her a surprise visit. Brooke almost hoped it was Janice; a confrontation would make her feel at least a little better.

Brooke parked behind the SUV and attempted to look through the tinted windows. It didn't appear as though anyone was in the truck. Would Janice, or whoever's vehicle this was, actually break into her house? How would the visitor get past the alarm? Brooke thought for a second that it might be a thief but quickly convinced herself that such a scenario was unlikely.

Brooke cautiously opened her front door and peered inside the house. The alarm warning tone failed to sound indicating that someone had definitely disabled it. "Hello," she yelled through the entryway. "I've called the police. They'll be here any minute."

"You didn't call the police," a voice returned from Brooke's living room. "Come on in, Brooke. I just want to talk."

The voice sounded familiar to Brooke, but she couldn't place it; it sure as hell wasn't Janice. "Who are you?"

"Come on in," the voice insisted. "I'm here to help, and I imagine you could use some support about now."

Brooke stepped into her living room and saw a beautiful woman with long blonde hair sitting on the couch. The woman was wearing a professional blue skirt suit with a white ruffled blouse. She had an expensive leather satchel opened on the coffee table beside a tablet computer and a stack of papers.

"Hi, Brooke," the woman said extending an arm toward an empty recliner. "You don't remember me. Do you? I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take it however you want," Brooke snapped. "Who are you, and why are you in my house?"

"I'm Emily," the woman answered brushing her curly blonde hair over her shoulder and motioning again for Brooke to take a seat. "We went to college together."

"Emily?" Brooke replied. She sat down and leaned in toward her guest with squinted eyes. "Emily Childress? How long's it been? Five...six years?"

"Emily Chapman," Brooke's former acquaintance corrected. "It has been a while. Ten years, actually."

Perplexed, Brooke leaned back in her chair. Why would someone she barely knew from college show up out of nowhere? Why today?

"You're confused," Emily consoled. "I don't blame you at all. Like I said, I'm here to help you. Mr. Griffin sent me."

"Mr. Griffin?" Brooke laughed. "You mean Mark?"

"Yes," Emily returned. "Mark Griffin sent me."

"Mark sent you to break into my house?"

"Mr. Griffin," Emily corrected. "Mr. Griffin sent me here to help you."

"Help me?" Brooke replied. "How exactly are YOU going to help ME?"

"Mr. Griffin has been keeping tabs on you," Emily offered. "You and Janice both."

"Me and Janice," Brooke snapped at the mention of her nemesis. "What the fuck does Janice have to do with this, and why is Mark keeping tabs on me?"

"Mr. Griffin knows about what happened at your school today," Emily continued. "Mr. Griffin also knows that Janice is responsible for your termination. This isn't the first time Janice has cost you your job. Is it?"

"What...But, how?"

Emily continued. "Mr. Griffin also believes that Janice is responsible for breaking up both of your engagements."

"But how does Mark know all this?" Brooke asked. "And why do you keep calling him Mr. Griffin?"

"Don't worry about how Mr. Griffin found out," Emily suggested. "Just know that he has very powerful friends. I call him Mr. Griffin because I work for him, and he prefers a more formal relationship."

Brooke covered her face with her hands and mumbled under her breath. All of this was too much for her. The last time she saw Mark, or Mr. Griffin, he was essentially Janice's bitch. Now Emily was working for him, and he was apparently so well connected that he had access to everyone's personal information?

"It's a lot to take in," Emily assured Brooke. "Don't worry about Mr. Griffin. He's only looking out for you. He believes that he owes you since you helped him with Janice."

"But why is Janice fucking with my life?" Brooke asked. "Why would she even care about me after all this time?"

"Come on, Brooke," Emily returned. "You know Janice. Did you really think she would let you get away with what you did?"

"What I did?" Brooke chided. "I only gave my father the evidence Janice was holding over his head. It's not like I was able to save his job or even his marriage for all that matters."

"I don't know what else to tell you," Emily added. "Janice is determined to destroy your life. Mr. Griffin feels as though he owes you, and that's why he sent me."

"How exactly is Mark going to help me?" Brooke queried. "It's not like he can get my job back."

"He can get your job back," Emily offered. "If that's what you want, you can return to work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Brooke begged. "How's that even possible?"

"It's like I said," Emily returned. "Mr. Griffin is very well connected."

"You're serious?" Brooke scoffed.

"I am serious," Emily responded. "There's a catch, though."

"Of course, there's a catch," Brooke returned sarcastically. "There's always a catch. Isn't there?"

"I don't know about always, but there is a catch in this instance," Emily continued in a professional tone. "Someone on the school board had arranged for you to be laid off; he did it to cover up his own affair. Janice was going to expose him unless he helped remove you from your job. If it's what you want, we'll handle the situation and make sure your position is restored."

"Wow," Brooke answered. "You can do that?"

"We can," Emily returned. "But, as I said, there is a catch. If Mr. Griffin gets your job back, the two of you are even. He will not expect anything from you in return for his intervention, but he will also refuse to help you when Janice comes after you again?"

"So you'll help me now," Brooke clarified. "Then if Janice gets me fired again, I'm on my own."

"That's correct," Emily assured. "That's your first option."

"My first choice?" Brooke asked. "What other options do I have?"

"Your other option is that we deal with Janice once and for all," Emily responded. "You wouldn't get your teaching job back, but you would be taken care of."

"Once and for all?" Brooke answered. "What are you going to do? Kill her?"

"No," Emily responded with a condescending chuckle. "Mr. Griffin's not a killer. He's a problem solver, and, frankly, you have a big problem."

"How exactly would you deal with Janice, then?" Brooke asked skeptically. "It's not like she's just going to stop fucking with my life. Shutting her down will require a hell of a lot more than a problem solver."

"If you choose the second option," Emily retorted. "Janice will not only leave you alone; she'll be punished for meddling in your life and the lives of others."

"Punished?" Brooke asked. She enjoyed the idea of Janice facing retribution. "How so?"

"Don't worry about that for now," Emily insisted. "You need to make a decision. You can take the first option and go back to work tomorrow, or you trust us to solve the problem once and for all. Just know that the second alternative comes at a cost."

"I would have to pay this cost?"

"That's right. If you want Janice dealt with once and for all, you would have to make those arrangements with Mr. Griffin."

"Oh, I see," Brooke snapped. "Mark wants revenge for what I made him do in college even though I'm the one who helped him escape Janice's blackmail."

"It's not about revenge," Emily insisted. "Mr. Griffin's technology and connections provide him with a tremendous amount of influence. He believes that justice must accompany such privilege."

"I don't even know what that means," Brooke chided. "Sounds like a fucking power trip to me."

"That's fine," Emily answered. "Mr. Griffin generally doesn't worry about what other people think of him, but I'm afraid I need an answer from you right now. We can get your job back, or you can meet with Mr. Griffin tomorrow. He'll work out the details with you in person."

"What about my job?" Brooke responded. "If I meet with Mr. Griffin tomorrow, would I still get my job back?"

"That's between you and Mr. Griffin," Emily said. "Just know that your financial needs will be taken care of no matter what."

"Can I sleep on it?" Brooke asked.

"No," Emily returned quickly. "I need an answer now."

"Well, that doesn't give me much of a choice then," Emily responded. "Does it?"

"Not really," Emily agreed. "I'll inform Mr. Griffin of your decision."

Chapter Two

Brooke stepped into the massive atrium to Mr. Griffin's office building and looked for the security station. According to Emily's instructions, Brooke had to obtain a visitor's pass before making her way to his top floor office. She was quite nervous about seeing Mark for the first time since college, and she found it hard to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks.

The massive office building itself spoke to Mark's new position in life. The twenty-eight-story facility featured rows of glass elevators streaking up and down the marble atrium walls. The large foyer wrapped around a three-tiered water fountain. The fountain stood adjacent to a kiosk where visitors lined up for coffee and bakery items. Several clothing and gift shops along with a fast food restaurant occupied the office building's inner walls.

Just opposite the coffee stand stood a large marble desk with three security guards. There would be no way anyone, let alone Brooke, would get to the elevators without passing a security check.

Anxious to get on with her rendezvous, Brooke stepped up to the first security guard, a large man with a scraggly mustache.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the guard asked inattentively.

"Uhm, yes," Brooke responded. "I'm here to see Mar...Mr. Griffin."

"Name?" the guard returned in an apathetic tone.

"Brooke Mitchell."

"Yes," the guard responded. "I see you on my list. It says we need to clear you before your meeting with Mr. Griffin."

"Clear me?" Brooke queried. "Isn't that what we're doing now?"

The large man rolled his eyes. "Sign here," he said as he handed Brooke a clipboard. Just as she started to scribble her name, the man ordered her to "look up." Before she had to time to lift her head completely, the guard snapped a quick photo of her face.

Brooke handed the signup sheet back to the guard in exchange for her badge featuring what was probably the worst picture she had ever taken.

"Go to the twelfth floor," the guard said turning his eyes to the next person in the security line. "Tell them you're here for Mr. Griffin."

"What do I need to do on the twelfth floor?" Brooke asked.

"They'll go through all that when you get there," the guard responded. He again shifted his attention to the next person in his growing line. "Next please."

Brooke clipped her visitor's badge to her red blouse and stepped through a turnstile next to the elevator bank. Within a few seconds, she was zipping upward in the elegant glass car; the fountain and security desk appeared progressively smaller as her carriage ascended the atrium wall.

After a few laps around the twelfth floor, Brooke finally found the security station. She stepped nervously into what felt more like a doctor's office waiting room than a security center. The lounge smelled of fresh flowers and was furnished with plush leather couches and expensive chairs. In the back of the room, she noticed a small refrigerator with a tinted glass door and a coffee machine stocked with various hot drink options.

One of the two women in the room looked up at Brooke briefly before returning her attention to a magazine. The waiting area's single male occupant took a little longer to inspect the group's newest member.

Brooke stepped up to a large glass window and looked back into the office area for anyone who could help her. Within seconds, a young woman with long brown hair and a blue skirt suit stepped up to the window.

"Can I assist you?" the woman asked.

"Uh, yes," Brooke responded. She was considerably more nervous than she had figured to be. "I'm supposed to meet with Mark Griffin. The guard downstairs told me to come up here. They said I had to be cleared or something."

"Oh," the desk lady responded. "Do you have your paperwork?"

"My paperwork?" Brooke asked anxiously. She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just here to visit with Mr. Griffin. Why would I need paperwork?"

The woman behind the glass smiled condescendingly at Brooke. "No one meets with Mr. Griffin without clearance." The woman pulled a stack of documents from her drawer and extended them through the window. "Please read through these. Initial the bottom of each page, and sign the last sheet. You'll need to hurry since your appointment is in less than thirty minutes."

Brooke looked at the thick document. She was taken aback that she had to sign the equivalent of a mortgage application just to meet with her former college friend. "Is this for real? I just need to meet with Mr. Griffin. I even have an appointment."

"Sorry," The woman said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If you want to meet with Mr. Griffin, you have to sign the release forms." The receptionist closed the window between her and Brooke then stepped out of view.