“So,” she said casually, “how long do you think Dalton and Pierce runs smoothly without you?”
I considered the question carefully.
“A few weeks,” I said. “Maybe a month.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “That long?”
“They still have strong clients,” I explained. “And the staff is capable. But the system depended on someone coordinating everything. And Gregory Dalton isn’t that person.”
“No,” I said simply.
Victoria nodded. “That’s what I suspected.”
The first call came on Wednesday afternoon. I recognized the number immediately. Daniel Whitaker, North River Manufacturing.
“Adrien,” he said when I answered. “You started your new job yet?”
“Two days ago.”
“Good.”
There was a pause.
“I called Dalton and Pierce yesterday,” he continued. “And they didn’t seem to know who was managing our account.”
That didn’t surprise me. Gregory had probably assumed someone inside the company could step in quickly. But stepping into a relationship built over eight years isn’t simple.
“What did they tell you?” I asked.
“They transferred me three times,” Daniel said. “Then Gregory joined the call, and he couldn’t answer half the questions about our campaign.”
I leaned back in my chair.
Daniel exhaled slowly. “Adrien, I’ll be honest with you.”
“Go ahead.”
“If things keep running like that, we’ll have to reconsider our contract.”
“I understand.”
“I’m not asking you to interfere,” he added quickly.
“I know.”
“But if Hayes Strategic ever wants to discuss working together…”
His sentence trailed off. The meaning was obvious.
“I’ll pass the message along.”
After the call ended, I stared at my phone for a moment. Then I walked down the hallway to Victoria’s office. She looked up from her laptop.
“Let me guess,” she said. “First crack in Dalton and Pierce.”
I nodded. “North River Manufacturing.”
Victoria smiled slightly. “That was faster than I expected.”
I leaned against the doorframe. “This is just the beginning.”
Because what Gregory Dalton still didn’t understand was something every experienced business leader eventually learns. Companies don’t collapse all at once. They fracture slowly. First, a client gets confused. Then, a vendor stops responding. Then, employees begin to question leadership. Each moment feels small on its own. But together, they create something far more dangerous. Momentum.
And once that momentum begins moving in the wrong direction, it becomes almost impossible to stop.
The problems at Dalton and Pierce Marketing didn’t explode overnight. They spread quietly, like cracks forming inside a foundation that had been under pressure for years. At first, the signs were subtle. A delayed email response, a client waiting too long for answers, a vendor asking questions no one seemed able to resolve. Small things.
But in business, small things accumulate, and Dalton and Pierce had built its entire reputation on reliability. Once that reliability disappeared, clients began noticing.
The second call came the following week.
Laura Bennett, Crestline Robotics.
Her voice carried the calm professionalism of someone trying very hard not to sound frustrated.
“Adrien,” she said, “quick question.”
“Sure.”
“We’ve had three different people contact us from Dalton and Pierce in the last four days.”
I frowned slightly. “Three?”
“Yes. None of them seemed to know what the others promised.”
That didn’t surprise me. Without a central coordinator, campaign information was probably scattered across departments.
“What happened?” I asked.
Laura sighed. “They scheduled our campaign launch meeting yesterday. And Gregory Dalton joined halfway through.”
That alone told me everything I needed to know. Gregory rarely joined operational meetings, only strategic ones.