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Linking my arm with hers, we continue walking through the packed parking lot, seeing our dad waiting by the car with a satisfied expression.
“The real issue is what are we going to do about dad and this Alba woman?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
27
BIG SHOES TO FILL
Sex & Stardust by ZZ Ward
Miles reopens the door to my office and stands at the entrance, his bowtie askew but tablet firmly clutched against his chest. There is only so much information I can give Miles at this time, and the little bit that I could has him rattled. He’s been my assistant for a long time and has been privy to confidential information before, but nothing like this.
“Anything I can do?” he asks, again.
“You should start that monthly birthday celebration again,” I say. “Everyone seemed to like that.”
“Okay,” he nods, “but I meant for you,” he clarifies.
Closing my laptop, I hold it close to my chest. I shouldn’t be smiling at a time like this, but I can’t help it. Adrenaline has already started coursing through my body and it makes me fidgety.
“I have everything I need.”
Miles steps out of the way as I walk down the long hallway, past reception, to the board rooms on the other side of the building. Glen called an emergency Board meeting after yesterday's events. Before entering the room, I check to make sure there are no wrinkles in my skirt and check my blouse. The third button has come loose, most likely from my laptop pulling at the fabric. Reaching to refasten it, I stop myself, thinking that if there were ever a time to leave it unbuttoned, now would be it. So I leave it open and push the board room doors open confidently.
The chatter stops as they watch me walk in, but I pay no attention to them. They know exactly why they’re here. The only one who doesn’t know the nature of the meeting is sitting at the far end of the table looking annoyed, no doubt upset that his tee time had to be canceled.
Asa Waterman.
If he’s not happy about that, he will definitely not be happy about the announcement I’m about to make.
The room quiets as I place my laptop on the table. I don’t take a seat; instead I stand at the head next to Glen. His tight smile and nod by way of greeting lets me know I’m free to begin whenever I’m ready.
“What’s this all about?” Asa pipes up from the other end of the table. His casual golf shirt and khakis confirm my suspicion.
“Welcome, Mr. Waterman,” I say with a slight smile, and watch as his eyes travel from my face to that strategically unfastened third button. My conversation with Glen all those months back comes to mind.
While men like Asa Waterman are distracted by that third button, they never see me coming.
“Let’s get to the point, I’m missing my tee time,” he grumbles. Looking at the other stone faces around the table he sits back in his chair, and I can tell he’s worried.
I address the Board and tell them what they already know. “It has been made clear that your company is overvalued,” I explain, addressing Waterman directly.
He has the nerve to laugh, but I expected as much. “I assure you the company is valued correctly, unless you’re trying to get a deal. In that case, this isn’t Bargain Hunters,” he says sarcastically hoping to get a laugh, but no one in the room finds him funny.
“There’s a problem with your Accounts Receivable, Mr. Waterman.”
“You called a meeting just for that?” Asa demands, annoyed. “Grant Weatherly, my CFO, will look into it.” He waves it off as if it’s no big deal, but it is.
“We’ve already looked into it,” I clarify.
“Are you accusing me of something, Ms. Kennedy?” Asa stands up, looking directly at me with challenging eyes. Maybe he thinks I’m bluffing or just plain dumb, but I am neither of those things. From all my years in finance, I am certain of one thing – Financial Statements don’t lie, unless someone makes a liar out of them.
“You’ve falsified your financials,” I pause to look him in the eye, “so no, I’m not accusing you of anything, Mr. Waterman. I’m here to remove you from your title.”
Asa slaps his palms to the table, rattling my laptop and several cups of coffee. The gentlemen in the room stiffen, and I bristle. “I don’t know what you are playing at, little girl,” he says, venomous eyes fixed on me, “But the only one losing their title here will be you.” He points an angry finger at me.
I can’t help but laugh just a little because it’s like watching a cornered rat trying to find its way out, but it can’t. Asa does what rat’s do when they’re cornered – bite.
“Glen, are you going to stand here and listen to this garbage?” Asa demands, and then turns his attention to Lewis looking for an ally, but Lewis stares back at him stone-faced.
