“I know.”
“Then what might be more important than this?—”
“Everything is infinitely more important than this.”
The doors opened. I stepped inside.
Sam blocked the threshold. “When will you be back? I can reschedule?—”
“Don’t.” I met his eyes. Somewhere along the way, I’d become my father’s son, chasing his dreams and legacy, not mine. “I’m done with the IPO.”
His mouth fell open. “What?”
“I’m pulling the plug. West Games stays private.”
“You can’t—” He sputtered. “Do you know what you’re risking?”
“Nothing.” The word came out calm. Steady. “I’m risking nothing compared to what I’ve already lost.”
“Griffin, this is insane?—”
“You’re wrong. For the first time in months, I’m actually thinking clearly.” I took a breath. “You’ve been loyal, Sam, working very diligently for my father first and then me. But the IPO is canceled. West Games stays private.”
“Wait. Is this about Jessa?” He shook his head. “That woman. Since the day she arrived, you’ve been off your game.”
I stepped forward, fuming, close enough that he could see I wasn’t playing anymore.
“You’re fired.”
The elevator doors slid shut in his face.
As the car ascended, I opened my fist at the red noodle in my palm.
My missing piece.
Off the elevator, Marianne looked surprised to see me back from the meeting so soon.
“I just called off the IPO. Prepare a press release, please,” I barked. She gasped. At my door, I whipped back, calmer. “And Marianne, thanks for your years of service to my dad and to me. It’ll be nice to get things back to normal around here, doing what we do best, won’t it?”
She beamed from ear to ear. “Yes, sir. It will.”
For an hour, with her help, I made other calls to lawyers, investors, and my PR team, spreading the word to anyone who had been involved.
“West Games is staying private,” I told them all. “The IPO is canceled. Effective immediately.”
The protests came fast. Including several irate messages from Sam, which I forwarded to HR to handle.
When I hung up the last call, a strange calm settled over me.
“You did well today, Griffin.” Marianne gathered her laptop and notes to return to her desk. “Your father would have been proud.”
“Would he? Because he talked about going public a lot before he passed. I just destroyed our chances.”
She tilted her head in thought at first. “Maybe, but he also loved what he built here. Believe me, if he’d really wanted to take the company public, he would have done so before he passed away. I think he didn’t because he preferred knowing he could pass along something to you boys. I know he worked a lot, but you five kids meant everything to him.Youwere his legacy he left behind.”
I swallowed the lump in throat, only nodding as she left my office.
For a long time, I sat and thought about life, and everything that had happened lately.
