“I still think this is a bad idea.” Brian Rautenbach interrupted Ryan again.
There were eye rolls all round, and sighs filled the room.
“Oh come on, Brian. We’ve been down this road before. We have been going down this road with you for the last six months. You were outvoted, the construction continues. It’s what is best for the company,” Charles Grey piped up.
“Well, I disagree,” Brian countered. “This is not in line with the vision of the company. It is not in line with what Ryan Senior would have wanted either.”
“Ryan Senior wasn’t trying to weather a recession,” Charles shot back. “When he was alive, the financial climate was very different.”
“This is a mistake.” Brian folded his arms, and Charles glared at him.
“Okay, okay,” Ryan interjected. “We really can’t talk about this issue anymore. We have to move on.”
Brian turned and looked at him. “Ryan, you know this is a mistake. There was another solution.”
Brian was glaring at him now and he felt his stomach tighten. He was starting to think Brian was right. He looked around the room. The other twenty board members and shareholders shook their heads at him, and he felt himself falter.
“Okay, let’s just move on,” he said, feeling his confidence waning a bit.
“Fine. But let the record show that I disagree,” Brian said and turned his attention to Doris. “Hi there,” he said to her. She didn’t respond. “In the corner, what’s her name?”
“Miss Granger,” Ryan said, and she looked up at him.
“Mmm?” she asked, looking directly at him.
Brian looked over at her. “I want you to write that down, Miss Granger. I disagree and am against this project.”
Doris nodded and then scribbled in her notebook. “Noted,” she said.
“Right.” Ryan looked down at his watch. At this rate they would be here all day. “Let’s move on. We have a lot to cover.”
At that, everyone in the room settled back down. For the next ten minutes, things went smoothly until a noise from the corner made them all turn and look.
Doris had opened a can of Coke with a loud, long fizzing sound. “Sorry,” she said, looking at everyone. “Thirsty.”
One of his shareholders, Adam Sharp, who was probably the youngest in the room, other than him—which made him at least fifty—smiled at her and jumped out of his seat.
“Let me get a glass for that.” He reached across the table and grabbed one. “Ice cubes?” he asked, looking over at Doris.
Ryan rolled his eyes.
“Thanks,” she said sweetly, in a sing-song voice.
Wait, was she flirting with him?
He straightened up and looked at the two of them closely. Adam was definitely being flirty. He was a straight-up asshole under normal circumstances, never a knight in shining armor who fetched ice cubes for damsels in distress.
“Here we go, allow me. Please.” Adam flashed Doris a big, white, toothy smile and then took the Coke from her and poured it into a glass.
What an asshole!Flirting shamelessly withhispersonal assistant.
“Perhaps you should consider investing in a restaurant next,” Ryan said, without thinking.
A few of the others looked amused, and one or two chuckled. Adam did not; instead he turned around and stared at Ryan. This didn’t bother him. He raised a disapproving eyebrow at Adam, letting him know that he knew what the hell he was up to—and how it wasnotappropriate for boardroom meetings. Adam sat back down and Ryan was just about to start talking again when the fucking pigeon walked in and made a loud cooing noise.
He was going to kill that bird!
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
