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“Please come in for a minute,” I request.
She pokes her head into my office shortly after.
“I want to discuss your idea,” I state, motioning for her to join me on the couch across from my desk.
Once she is seated, I begin, “Your proposal is interesting, but I know the board will never approve it as it is. As I mentioned at lunch, I've been trying to make this company more efficient and environmentally friendly, but the board has always opposed me, supported by my father. And when it comes to renewable energy and blockchain, it will be too much for them. Then there’s the foundation I envision, which might just push them over the edge.”
“Imagine the impact of having a non-profit organization in the heart of the neighborhood. Think of how many people we could help!” she exclaims.
I have specific plans for the office space I bought from Ana, but it’s too early to go into the details before I have the majority of the shares in my name.
“I understand your perspective, Ana, but the board…” I begin to explain.
I lean back in my seat and cross my legs. I'm determined to push my plan to drastically reduce the pipeline's impact using new technology, turning it into a win-win situation for everyone involved.
“Thank you for your ideas. Let me see how far I can get with the board,” I say abruptly, wanting to cut the conversation short.
Ana gasps visibly and audibly, clearly astonished. “Oh… okay.”
The buzzing sound of the intercom interrupts us. Charlotte manages to save us from an even more awkward situation.
I press the intercom button and reply, “Yes, Charlotte?”
“Brando, your daughter's school is on line one,” she announces through the intercom.
I never receive calls from the school during the day… ever.
“Ana, please excuse me. I need to take this call,” I state, not waiting for a response. I quickly move behind my desk and pick up the office phone receiver. “This is Brando Sanders. Is everything okay?” I can't help but assume that something is wrong with her.
“I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Sanders, but Addison is in the nurse's office with me. She isn't feeling well. She has a slight fever, a sore throat, and nausea. It might be best if someone picked her up.”
“Can I please speak with her?” I ask, pursing my lips.
“Daddy.” Addison's thin voice comes through the loudspeaker on my phone.
“Are you alright, pumpkin?”
“Daddy, I don't feel that good. I've thrown up, and I feel dizzy. Can you come and pick me up?”
My heart wrenches at the sound of Addison's weak voice. It's rare for her to be unwell.
“I'm on my way, pumpkin,” I assure her before ending the call. I barely notice Ana standing beside my desk, her gaze fixed on a photo of Addison and me on my daughter's tenth birthday.
“Can't her mother pick her up?” Ana blurts out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?” I snap at her, my tone harsh. “Her mother is… unavailable to get her,” I grind out, trying not to sound too rude.
I gather my belongings as quickly as possible, attempting to make my way out the door. Ana is still standing there, and although I'm sure she wants to help, there's really nothing she can do. The mention of Addison's mother caught me off guard. I collect my wallet and keys while Ana hands me my jacket.
“I'm so sorry, this is inappropriate,” she mumbles apologetically. “It's just that schools typically call the mother first,” she continues, as if possessed by an evil spirit, sounding frazzled.
Why is this woman putting her foot in her mouth? Amusement has replaced the initial shock I felt at her remark.
“I don't mean to sound sexist, but it's often the case. Usually, moms pick up sick children if the parents are divorced or in a situation where the father might be working,” she rambles on.
She pauses, looking at me in horror. It’s next to impossible for me to keep a straight face.
“Oh, my God, please ignore me. I’m babbling.”
