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“Of course, it is,” I say softly, my cheeks flushed.
“Let's go talk to the board,” he says and pulls me by the hand.
“Right now?” I stumble behind him, my heart thumping in my chest.
“They are waiting in the conference room.” He grins. “Bring your laptop, I need detailed meeting notes.”
The long table’s polished surface in the boardroom reflects the harsh overhead lights. Brando takes a seat at the head, and I drop down beside him as I open my laptop, feeling out of place among the stuffy businessmen in their thousand-dollar suits. I get ready to copy down everything that transpires during the meeting.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Brando announces. His presence automatically commands the room, and the chatting murmurs recede like the tide. “You are probably already guessing why I have called this meeting.”
He pauses and takes a deep breath as I furiously type notes on my laptop. “You are aware that we have not seen eye to eye over the past months, and that I was looking for a way to take this firm in another direction.”
The board members around the table exchange glances, shifting in their seats uncomfortably.
“As of last night, I control 60 percent of the shares. The first thing I want to do in my new capacity is to dissolve the Board of Directors,” Brando continues, as a low murmur spreads. “Change is overdue, and we are starting immediately. I will bring this firm into the twenty-first century by modernizing its processes and initiating new environmentally friendly projects that will not only serve our bottom line, but also ensure a future for the children of our children.”
The board members listen intently, their expressions ranging from skeptical to hopeful.
“Change is indeed overdue,” a slender woman with a stern expression breaks the tense silence. “Your father’s stubbornness has held the firm back for far too long. Sanders International needs to embrace modernity if it wants to stay competitive.”
“Indeed,” chimes in another. He flashes an encouraging grin in Brando’s and my direction. “Your resourcefulness is exactly what this company needs.”
An equal measure of pride and gratitude wash over me as a few more members express their support, while others continue looking grim. Brando looks pleased, his posture relaxed and confident.
“Alright, then,” the board president concludes. “We will put it up to a vote at the next shareholders meeting, and we will propose a new governance structure. It is pro forma, since Brando now holds the majority of the shares.”
As the meeting adjourns, Brando turns to me. His fingers lightly brush against mine as the board members filter out of the room. As soon as it’s just us, his gaze turns serious. “There’s one more thing. Now that it’s official, I need to go down to Palm Beach to tell my father in person. You are coming with me.” His tone doesn’t allow for dissent.
I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest, scared but also excited. “Fl-Florida? With you? Why?”
Brando's fingers brush against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
“Why not?”
Though I feel an overwhelming urge to run away, I force myself to step back. Fear and excitement battle within me. This is happening too fast.
My heart is in my throat as I stutter out a response. I know I should accept, but all I can think about are the obstacles ahead: his father's disapproval and, most of all, how quickly things could go wrong. I'm not sure if I'm making the right decision, but Brando's grip on my hand doesn’t allow me to say no.
“Yes, I . . . I don’t know . . . yes,” I grind out, finally figuring out how to string a verb and a subject together. “This is unexpected.”
His grip on my hand is gentle, yet firm.
He’s not letting me go.
CHAPTER22
BRANDO
The heavy scentof saltwater and bougainvillea permeates the Florida air as I step out of the car, adjusting my tie. Ana follows, stunning in her little black dress, a far cry from her usual attire. I take a moment to appreciate her beauty, the way her dress hugs her curves, and the way her hair falls in soft waves around her face. Addison skips ahead, laughing as she takes in the sights and sounds of Palm Beach’s lavish Royal Poinciana Way district, with its luxury shops, lush landscaping, and Mediterranean-inspired architecture.
I can't help but smile at her infectious energy.
As we approach the entrance to the upscale restaurant, I notice my father standing outside, showcasing the ever-present scowl on his face. I feel a twinge of irritation.
“Dad, I want you to meet Ana.” I embrace him and step back. He is not an easy man to please, and I can't shake the feeling that he’s not thrilled. It’s not surprising, considering that I now firmly hold the reins of Sanders International in my hands.
“Nice to meet you, Ana,” my father says in a tone that doesn't quite match his forced smile. “I’m glad that Brando has finally decided to hire himself an assistant.”
