I look down at my dark jeans and T-shirt and shrug. My wardrobe decisions have been a point of contention for years, but I can see they will be even more of an issue now. Wearing a suit makes me crawl out of my skin. When I’m sitting behind his desk, that’ll be the first thing to go.
“Granddad never wore a suit.”
“He also got his receptionist pregnant. He may have led this company for years, but I’ve told you before, and I will remind you again today, my father was far from a good example.”
I suppress a laugh at how incredibly cliché our family must seem.
“You say that like you're not talking about your mother.”
He looks up from his computer with a stern expression but doesn’t respond.
“You told me you wanted to prove that you could take this over. You said that it was important to you to keep your great grandfather’s business in the family, but I’ve yet to see you try.”
When I don’t take the bait, he continues, “Your brother is leaving for Europe whether I like it or not, and then it’ll just be you and me. It’s time you grow up and start taking this seriously. I would like to move forward with my plans by the end of the year, and currently I don’t have much confidence that is going to happen.”
That look I know too well covers his face, and my heart sinks into my stomach. He’s right. I’m fucking it up, and it’s been less than two weeks. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. It’s clear I’m in way over my head.
“Are you listening to me?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He checks his watch and continues, “I need you to grow up. Stop the partying, or whatever it is you do with your free time. Try showing up to work before eleven.”
“I show up before eleven.”
He shakes his head. “That attitude is precisely why I doubted you would ever be ready for this amount of responsibility, but you assured me. Your mother assured me. Hell, when your grandfather was alive, he constantly championed you for this role, but it’s been twelve days and you’re still dressing like that and waltzing into the office at eleven. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were self-sabotaging.”
My jaw ticks at the dig, but I internally stop myself from saying anything else that might prove he’s right about me.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”
“Good. Now onto business. We are scrapping your plan for the Cedar Hill project.”
“You’re what? But we're set to break ground at the beginning of November,” I reply incredulously.
“Then it looks like I caught your fuck up just in the knick of time. I reviewed the proposal again, and the cost is unnecessary. We will move forward with demoing the building, but it will be solely a multi-family complex.”
“But I worked so hard on that plan. My team worked so hard on that plan.”
“First lesson in being the CEO. Sometimes it isn’t about what you want; it’s about the bottomline. The money it would take to bring your little project to light would be a financial nightmare. Think of this as your opportunity to show me what you can do here. If you want me seriously to consider you for my position, I need to see that you can put your wants aside for the sake of the company.”
I’ve already volunteered myself like some sort of Mitchell family martyr. Shouldn’t that be enough?
“At the end of the project, if I’m impressed and it’sprofitable, then I’ll know you’re serious about your future, and I will begin to move forward with the plan. You will take over my role, and I will fall into the background as chairman of the board, just like your grandfather did.”
My stomach turns.
“I expect the revised plan on my desk by the end of the day Monday. Is that understood?”
“But my new roommate is moving in this weekend.”
“And?”
“I wasn’t planning on working. I need to be there to help.”
His head falls back, and he audibly exhales. “I need the plan by the end of the day Monday. This is not negotiable. If that doesn’t work for you, then I will start looking for a new CEOoutside of the family.”
He emphasizes the last four words.
