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“Angela,” my aunt called after we wrapped up.
“Yes?”Papa’sassistant poked her face into the conference room.
“Sendthem in, please.”
Thedouble doors opened within minutes, and a horde of men entered the room.Istalked everyone online before this meeting to familiarize myself and matched each face to their social media profiles.
HenryandJoeMaxwellentered first withHenry’ssons,AlexanderandJasper.Theywere followed byJoe’stwin sons,CaledonandDamonMaxwell.
Twinsmight’ve stepped inside the room, butIimmediately identifiedDamon.Hisdirty blond hair was slightly longer and messier thanCaledon’s.Hecommanded my attention, along withRose’s.
“Damon’shere.”
Myeyes narrowed atRose’ssmall outburst.Myimpossibly shy eighteen-year-old cousin rarely spoke in the presence of others.Italso didn’t escape my attention thatRose’spupils were blown at the sight ofDamon.Interesting.
“Youknow him?”Iasked her.
Roseducked her head. “Justa little,” she mumbled. “Fromaround campus.”
Iwatched her quietly, then cut my glance back toDamon.Myneck strained to catch his whole frame.Acrisp white shirt hugged his torso, pairing well with chinos.Theversatile outfit was carefully selected to transition between a business appointment and a casual yacht day in case the meeting occurred on the deck.Smartand prepared.
Broadshoulders and a solid-set jaw emanating dominance made it impossible to believe he was only twenty-one.Iwould have peggedDamonfor the role ifIdidn’t knowHenryandJoeMaxwellto be the co-CEOs.Perhapsthe enigma came from years of priming as the future ofMaxwellCorp.Neitherhis cousins nor his brother were interested in taking over, soDamonhad been groomed for the role from an early age.
Justlike me.
Damonwas in college but spent every waking moment shadowing his uncle to remain relative in the company's collective culture.Peopleresponded to consistency.He’dbe a shoo-in to replace his father without anyone crediting it to nepotism.Afterall, his natural presence dwarfed his father’s, who had skipped into the room as if searching for a novelty item rather than attending a business meeting.
Theeight board members ofAmbaniCorpstood on cue to serve as the welcoming committee.Thisboard shared a rhythm, instinctively knowing who’d speak first.Oneday,I’dshare this chemistry with them.
Myaunt,Shital, did the greeting.ShitalAmbaniwas the epitome of poise, tall and slim, with her hair pulled back in a tight bun.Hervoice was velvet as she welcomed theMaxwells. “Hello,Mr.MaxwellandMr.Maxwell.”Shesmiled stiffly at bothHenryandJoe. “Thankyou for coming all this way to meet us.Howare you today?”
JoeMaxwellstopped in his tracks instead of acknowledgingShital.Hisgaze flickered as if searching for a rare jewel.Theinitial excitement in his eyes dimmed upon scanning each face on the other side of the conference table.
“WhereisMr.Ambani?” he asked briskly.
Someof my uncles snickered at the question while others exchanged perplexed looks.HenryMaxwellfrowned, andDamon’sface showed a hint of irritation.Theirreactions were valid.Everyonemeeting with this board had the good sense to research the members or at least learn their names.Youshould never enter a lion’s den unless fully prepared.Wewere a family business, and our board only consisted of individuals with the last nameAmbani.Fivemen were on the board, includingPapa.Allwere referred to asMr.Ambani.
Joeraised his eyebrows. “DidIsay something funny?”
“Theyare allMr.Ambani,”Henryhissed atJoe.
Noone else pointed outJoe’sfaux pas.Theproper etiquette for conducting ourselves at work had been drilled into us since birth.Everyonein this room would rise above it instead of dwelling on being slighted.
Oneof my uncles,Yash, elaborated onHenry’scomment, “Halfthe people at this table are referred to asMr.Ambani.I’mYashAmbani.Apleasure to meet you.”
“AndI’mYash’sbrother,NikhilAmbani, but please, feel free to call meNick.”
Myaunt,Shital, was next and opened her mouth to introduce herself.
JoeMaxwellswiftly cut her off. “Idon't need the whole assembly lineup.”
Everythingcame to a screeching halt atMr.Maxwell’ssharp tone.Thetemperature in the room dropped by several degrees.Takenaback by the rudeness, the mood in the room soured.
Shitalseemed mortified. “E-excuse me?”
“Iwas talking aboutJayAmbani,” the man replied crudely instead of apologizing for his outburst. “WillthatMr.Ambanibe joining us?” he snapped, doubling down on his poor manners.
Whatan asshole.
