“It’s true.”
“Then what?”
I look around at the many eyes around the table, and the board members online that I’d completely forgotten about.
“I tried to stay away from her in the office. But then I had to move down to the creative area, as we agreed at the previous board meeting, and she was everywhere. One day, she clocked it.”
Nia gasps. “Then what happened?” she asks, taking over from the PR consultant.
“We started seeing each other in secret. I knew it was wrong, but it felt so right. I wanted it to work out.”
“Is there a way it can work out?” Nia asks, her voice thick, looking at Graham and Hana. They turn to the PR team.
They all shake their heads. “If you stay in a relationship with the intern, that’s all people will see,” the young woman says again. “Another Infinio CEO stepping over that reprehensible line and not making an effort to rectify the situation. What message does it send to the rest of the company? You’ll struggle to regain everyone’s respect, especially because of Rey’s …lifestyle,” she says the last word with such contempt it stings me. Is that how people will talk about us? Even when they know the truth? “The only way we see this working out is if you do as Hana says.”
“Sebastian.” I seek out my old friend, hoping he’ll say something else. “What do you think?”
He blows out a breath. “I don’t know what to think,” he says. “You take over as CEO after that wanker, claiming you’re better than him. You knew how fragile this company is, and still went and shagged an intern, and you lied about it? What’s the deal here, man? I thought you cared about Infinio.”
He’s pissed. Clearly. Fuck, I should’ve told him earlier. I chew the inside of my cheek, not sure if he’s finished.
“I thought I knew Damian,” he continues. “We all have trust issues after that, and you do this? What else are you lying about?”
He’s more than pissed. He’s hurt. I’ve not been the loyal friend to him that I thought I was.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“So fix it,” he says. “Don’t be the reason the company tanks. What’s worth more to you? That girl, or your legacy here?”
That’s not a question I can answer. I love her.
But Infinio ismy life.
I look around at everyone.
Nia is crying. Tears stream down her cheeks. She presses her lips together in a sympathetic frown. The only person at this table who seems to remember I’m hurting.
Hana nods when my eyes meet hers. “Sebastian is on to something. Your secrecy, sneaking around, and especially this—” She waves towards the laptop, looking for her words. “Thisactin the office. It screams poor leadership. This has already cost us millions in share price reduction.”
“Mark,” Graham interjects. His familiar face stretched in a grimace of such concern and disappointment, I can hardly look at him. “We discussed replacing you along with Damian last year, and I defended you until I turned blue in the face. But I can’t do it again if I think you’re no longer the sensible, reliable man I’ve always known you to be. The Mark who founded this company would never degrade himself like this. What has happened to you?”
“Fuck,” I breathe, reality sinking in. I hate that they’re right, or at least they have a point. I’ve worked so hard for Infinio. For the respect this role demands. Not just here, but in my other investments, my role as a tech entrepreneur, a contributor in the business world. I can’t have everyone look at me the way these people are now.
It’s not only about being perceived as Damian, which is a narrative I realise I can’t control right now. I must keep their respect, and my dignity, whatever is left of it.
My chest clenches hard, and the ache works its way into my throat. I lean my forehead on my arms on the table, looking down at the green carpet and the leather shoes I wore the night I got caught in the rain. The night I spent at Rey’s. I drag in a shaky breath. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Without lifting my head, I utter the word I’ll regret forever.
“Okay.”
The burning in my throat is unbearable. I want everyone to leave.
“We’ll draw up a statement for internal comms and the press. You just need to review and sign it off,” Kurt says.
“Okay,” I say again.
“You should probably call Rey,” Nia says, her voice gentle in my ear. My phone appears in front of my face, and I shift to take it, but still without lifting my head. I don’t want my entire board, PR consultants, and HR to see me falling apart.
