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Almost.
These shenanigans wouldn’t fly in a publicly traded company. Then again, neither would a dog on the board. In a private family company, all bets are off.
Listlessly, I raise my hand. “Aye.” We get a string of ayes.
She raises her hand. Her pretty lips part. Her chest rises slightly, and then she pauses, brows furrow. “Wait, I don’t even know what this is.”
I sigh and read it off. “All present in favor. Just waiting on you.”
She cranes her head forward, eyes narrowed.
“Can I get a definition of reallocation of plebiscite by seniority?” Vicky asks.
My heart sinks. “What is this, a spelling bee?”
“I just don’t understand it.”
“It’s a procedural motion to ensure continuing smooth operation. An agreement on forms of agreement. You’re going to have to get used to voting on matters of procedure.”
She watches Brett and Smuckers. “Specific definition, please,” she says softly.
Mandy groans.
“It’s procedural,” I say, sliding a packet of printed bullshit across to her. “A matter of continuation.”
She lifts her gaze back to me. She’s a fish out of water. A fish on land, really, flopping around, visibly confused. But she keeps flopping, keeps fighting. She’s a scrapper, really. “Reallocation of plebiscite?”
Everyone looks at me. She’s asking the right question. “The rule gives precedence to experience.”
“What’s plebiscite?”
“Ballot.”
Her chest rises again. Another intake of breath. I know exactly when it dawns on her, because that glow comes back in to her face. “Precedence to experience. As opposed to a…?”
She waits for me to fill it in. I sit back, as if bored. I’m anything but.
She fixes me with a wry smile that twists up some part of me. “Maybe as opposed to a fluffy little dog?” she finally supplies.
“Not how I was going to put it.”
“Well, then.” She sits up straight. “Smuckers has considered your amendment, and he’s decided to vote no.” She turns to Smuckers. “What is that, boy? Oh, I’m sorry, nay.” She glares at me now. “I can’t believe you tried to strip him of his vote. Do you have no decency?”
“When it comes to protecting this company? No.”
Her gaze intensifies. “Just no?”
“None at all,” I say. “No decency whatsoever. Nada, if you will.”
Her pretty lips part. It’s shock. Maybe a little bit awe.
I give her an amused smile, adjusting my jacket sleeve over my cuff just so. The suit was tailored by a man who charges three hundred bucks an hour and is worth every penny.
“Uh,” she says. “You think you’re all that? You’re not.”
“Oh, I am,” I say. “I very much am. And for the record, I will crush you in the end.”
“Smuckers had this medication once,” she says. “We tried to hide it in his food, and he spit it out. No matter what we did, he’d spit it out.” She puts one finger on the paper with the new amendment we printed up and slides it back across the desk. “Smuckers doesn’t like when people try to fool him. That’s his message for you.”
