“Living life instead of it passing me by. Sorry, did you call for something?”
“Yeah,” he says. Something in his voice is off.
I wait a moment before saying, “Charlie, what’s up? Even though I would love to read minds, it’s not a talent I was born with.”
“Your father is trying to sway the board to vote you out as CEO.”
And there it is. I didn’t realize I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen.”
“Where do we stand, then? And who did you hear this from?”
“Barrett called me just now to see if you’d be at the meeting tomorrow. Your father has been campaigning to several people that he should be put back in until you’ve married and settled down.”
Nothing like hitting the right pressure to make someone break.
And yet this time, I look at it as a challenge instead of pure panic.
“I appreciate the call, Charlie. I’m going to gather a few things and prep for tomorrow.”
“Do you need me to find anything for you, sir?”
“No. Go relax. We’ll chat after the board meeting and make a game plan for how to move forward.
I’m dressed in my nicest suit, my shoes polished and my hair in place. It’s a little stuffy after weeks of more casual attire, but I can do it from time to time.
I barely slept, finishing compiling all the information I gathered for this meeting around dawn. Charlie has a black coffee for me when I walk in. One sip in and I know I’m ruined for regular coffee forever.
“Thank you, Charlie. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Inside the room, everything is polished walnut, brushed steel, and carefully controlled tension.
No one speaks as I walk in, though several heads turn. Some nervous. Some relieved.
If I hadn’t gotten the call from Charlie last night, I would be panicking. But with enough time, I can build a case to combat whatever my father throws at me.
My father sits in the chair at the head of the table. My chair for the past eight years.
I take a seat on the other side without rushing, setting my phone beside the leather folder waiting in front of me. Someone has already poured water into crystal glasses around the table.
Wolfgang’s suit jacket is a light brown, reminding me of Avery’s eyes.
“You’re late,” he says calmly.
I glance toward the clock on the wall. “By forty-three seconds. I figured you’d survive.”
No one laughs.
The heater buzzes softly overhead. The rain streaks down the windows, finally melting the late snowfall we’ve had.
Across from me, Melissa avoids eye contact for half a second too long before sliding a folder closer in my direction.
Right.
This is really happening.
I flip it open and scan the documents inside, the first one outlined with bullet points under my name.
Leadership concerns.
