My Clients Are My Real Equity

“The finalized stock option list is out.”

Sarah Miller, our Head of Operations, handed me the file.

I took it and scanned the names, top to bottom.

Ms. Elena, the cleaning staff, 0.1%. The girl at the front desk, 0.05%. Dean Harrison, the new Director who joined six months ago, 0.3%.

I flipped through it three times.

My name wasn’t there.

“Vivian.” Marcus King, the CEO, walked out of his office. “Stock options are for incentivization, and you, as a core player, are already motivated. You don’t need them.”

I looked up at him.

His smile was perfectly sincere.

I smiled back.

“Got it, Marcus.”

I put the list back on the table, my lips holding the curve of that fake smile.

Ten years.

1

My name is Vivian Lee. I’m thirty-five.

I’ve been at this company for exactly ten years.

A decade ago, we were twenty people. I was Employee Number Eight.

Marcus couldn’t afford office space then, so we crammed into his living room and wrote code on the sofa.

I didn’t have a desk; I worked hunched over his coffee table.

No AC in the summer meant sweat soaking my t-shirts; no heat in the winter meant my fingers were stiff and raw.

“Vivian,” Marcus used to say, “just hold on a little longer. When we go public, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

I believed him.

And I held on for ten years.

In that time, the company grew from twenty to two hundred people.

We moved from a cluttered living room into a sleek downtown high-rise.

We went from missing payroll to pulling in tens of millions in annual revenue.

Along the way, I led three project teams, trained three of our current project managers.

I personally managed eight core clients, which accounted for sixty percent of the company’s total revenue.

I thought I was a founding pillar.

I thought that when this day finally came, my name would be right at the top of the list.

And the result?

Ms. Elena, the cleaning lady, got 0.1%. Based on our current valuation, that was $50,000.

The front desk girl got 0.05%.

Dean Harrison, who’s been here six months, got 0.3%.

Me?

Zero.

I stared at the list for a long time.

Sarah walked over, lowering her voice. “Vivian, maybe talk to Marcus? It could be an oversight.”

An oversight?

I’d been here a decade. How could he possibly forget me?

I just smiled and shook my head, saying nothing.

That night, my husband, Jake, asked what was wrong.

I said, “Nothing.”

He saw my face and pressed me again.

“The company released the stock option list,” I finally said.

“How much did you get?”

“Ms. Elena got 0.1%.”

“That’s good for her,” he paused. “What about you?”

I didn’t answer.

He frowned, and the realization hit him.

“Goddamn it.”

It was one of the few times I’d ever heard Jake swear.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling until morning.

Ten years.

I worked until ten every night and spent most weekends tethered to my laptop.

My mom took our son, Leo, to his first day of kindergarten because I was on a business trip.

Jake took time off work to care for Leo when he was hospitalized with a fever, because I was closing a deal.

I missed so much life.

I told myself it would be worth it.

Now, I realized how utterly ridiculous that was.

The next morning, I walked into the office as usual.

Marcus passed my desk and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Vivian, you saw that list yesterday?”

“I did.”

“The options thing, well, it’s for incentivization,” he said, still smiling. “You’re a foundational player. You don’t need those kinds of carrots.”

I just looked at him.

He continued, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your year-end bonus reflects your hard work.”

Year-end bonus?

Last year, my bonus was $15,000. Dean, in his first year, pulled in $25,000.

“Marcus,” I said. “I understand perfectly.”

He nodded, satisfied, and walked away.

I watched his back, but said nothing more.

2

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.

3

The next day, I went to work as normal.

Passing Marcus’s office, I heard him on the phone.

“…Don’t worry, Vivian’s stable. Where can she go, honestly? She’s thirty-five. What company in the Valley is going to want her now?”

I stopped dead in my tracks.

“…Yes, I thought this through. Give options to the old guard like her, and you have to give them to everyone. We won’t have enough left in the pool…”

I didn’t need to hear the rest.

I turned around and walked back to my cube.

My heart was racing, but strangely, I wasn’t surprised at all.

That afternoon, Sarah found me again.

“Vivian, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“Dean’s equity is more than 0.3%.”

I looked up.

“I saw it in the HR system. He has an additional 0.2% in options. Total is 0.5%.”

Zero point five percent.

At our current valuation, that was $250,000.

A new hire, here for six months: $250,000.

Me, ten years: zero.

“Vivian, you look awful,” Sarah said, worried.

“I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Just going to the restroom.”

I walked into the bathroom and stared at the woman in the mirror.

Thirty-five. Fine lines around my eyes. The dark circles looked like bruises.

I gave the best years of my life to this company.

And what was the return?

“You’re a foundational player. You don’t need incentivization.”

“Where can she go? She’s thirty-five.”

I took a deep breath and splashed cold water on my face.

When I came out, I bumped into Dean.

“Vivian, are the materials ready for the afternoon meeting?” he asked, smiling confidently.

I looked at him.

Top-tier MBA. Suit pressed sharp. Full of ambition.

Six months in, 0.5% equity secured.

Me, ten years, nothing.

“They’re ready,” I said.

“You’re always so reliable, Vivian.” He gave me a thumbs-up. “I still have so much to learn from you.”

Learn from me?

You have 0.5%, and I have 0%.

You’re asking me for advice?

I smiled. “Anytime.”

That evening, when I got home, I made a decision.

I opened my laptop and updated my resume.

Ten years of experience. Managed a hundred-person team. Secured eight core clients. Contributed millions in annual revenue.

The moment I hit ‘Send’ on that first application, I felt a sudden, profound lightness.

I helped carry this company from twenty people to two hundred.

And in the end, I was valued less than the cleaning staff.

If that was the case, then I owed Marcus King nothing.

Three days after submitting my resume, a headhunter called.

“Vivian Lee? I’m Amy from Elite Search. I have a few roles that would be a perfect fit.”

The voice on the other end was polished and professional.

“Tell me about them.”

“There’s a publicly traded company looking for a Regional Director for the East Coast. Your background is highly sought after.”

“What’s the salary range?”

“Starting at $250,000, plus equity.”

I blinked.

$250,000.

My current salary was $150,000.

“How much equity?”

“0.1%. Guaranteed in the contract.”

Zero point one percent.

More than Ms. Elena.

“Are you interested in scheduling an interview?”

“Yes.”

I hung up the phone and sat at my desk, stunned.