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It’s too late for all of that. Even if it wasn’t, I’m too tired to stand in front of that emotional firing squad again.
After the late night in Mexico, not sleeping a wink on the plane, and now, pulling a second late night here, I feel dead on my feet.
It probably isn’t good for the baby to be this exhausted and this stressed. Didn’t Timofey tell me that was the most important thing? Making sure me and the baby are healthy?
I press a hand to my stomach and close my eyes. “No matter what, he’ll take care of us. I know it.”
Then I ball up my jacket as a pillow and lay down. “I’ll lie down for just a few minutes. Then everything will be better.”
I know that isn’t true, but I fall asleep anyway.
32
TIMOFEY
The board meeting ends with a whimper.
The members, too afraid to even look me in the eye, scurry out of the room like roaches fleeing a nuclear bomb. I sit back in my chair and watch them.
They have no clue the mistake they are making. These men joined my board because they were wealthy. Because they had the kind of money and connections that I could manipulate. Without me, they have no idea how to pull the right strings.
They’ll be back.
I just hope it isn’t too late when they realize it.
The room is nearly empty, but a chair at the end of the table remains filled. “Go on, Ron,” I say, gesturing to the door. “Flee with the rest of the vermin.”
He crosses his legs, making it clear he isn’t going anywhere. “I’m too old to flee. Craig was supposed to wheel me out, but you must have shamed him into amnesia.”
Despite my black mood, the old man draws a laugh out of me. “He’s probably going to make sure I haven’t already called his wife.”
Ron arches a brow. “Have you?”
“No. It wouldn’t do any good. She knows he’s cheating on her.”
“And she doesn’t care?”
“She doesn’t exactly hold the moral high ground here. She’s cheating on him with her trainer. They’re both fucking clichés. They deserve each other.”
Ron’s mouth falls open for a second. Then he cackles. “Well, here I was feeling bad for you. Now, I feel bad for Craig.”
“Fuck Craig. You should still feel worse for me,” I tell him. Then I second-guess it. “Actually, save your pity. I don’t need it.”
He meets my eyes. “I know you don’t.”
I watch as he strokes his beard, deep in thought. “You must realize that these men are going to regret this decision,” I say. “You know I’ll be back at the helm shortly.”
“They’ll definitely regret it. But I’m not sure you’ll be CEO again anytime soon.” He props his soft chin on the palm of his hand, his mouth pulled to one side. “I’ve been around these kinds of men my entire life, Timofey. They don’t admit when they’re wrong and they don’t apologize. We’ll have a revolving door of failed CEOs in here before they even consider bringing you back. Men who can’t hold a candle to you.”
“Manuel wouldn’t risk losing his investment for his pride’s sake.”
“Oh, no, he’ll bring you back long before he’s lost his money,” Ron agrees. “But not a second sooner. You’ll have to sit back and be patient, my friend.”
I want to tell Ron he doesn’t have a single fucking clue what he’s talking about. I want him to be some delusional old man who isn’t hip with the times. But I brought Ron onto the board because he always seemed to understand what was brewing under the surface.
Criminals, murderers, and gangsters? I know their motives like the back of my hand.
Weaselly fucking businessmen? They’re like another species to me. Ron, however, speaks their language.
