Possibly I don’t care on this one.
I get in touch with Carmen, and over a private dinner at Archie’s place on Sunday, I tell her my plans for the board meeting tomorrow.
Should’ve done it sooner, but apparently stress had short-circuited my brains, and it took clearing my head with the trip across the country with Daphne to realize I didn’t want to go intothe next phase of my life without closing out this phase the right way.
It’s a relief to know Carmen’s in.
Her feral smile indicates she’s going to relish being involved, in fact.
And Monday—Monday arrives faster than I think it will, even though every waking minute of the weekend, there’s lingering worry over Daphne and a desperate need for me to be done here so that I can go find her again.
Archie’s put out that he doesn’t get to do this for me, but when I walk into the boardroom, dressed in a suit that feels foreign after the past two weeks of living in clothes Daphne picked for me, I have no doubts.
I have to do this.
I have to finish the job my father made me take.
I stroll into the board of directors meeting as if nothing’s wrong.
The same people who have sat there for the past four years, sometimes berating me, sometimes questioning me, sometimes praising me, are all in their spots around the table. The only difference is that my father has rejoined the table, taking the seat I’ve occupied for the past four years as though reclaiming his former title is a foregone conclusion, even without board and shareholder approval.
A row of windows overlooks the Manhattan skyline, and I pause for a brief moment to recognize the finality of this view for me.
It’s majestic in its own way.
And I can’t wait to get the ever-loving hell out of here and discover my new life through Daphne’s eyes.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may, before we begin?” I say as I stop beside my father’s chair.
There’s an uncomfortable murmur.
The kind that says my father’s been schmoozing and has made it known that he’s learned some kind of lesson and will be an even better CEO if he takes over.
The kind that says they’re anticipating a fight.
Dad looks up at me with a genial grin. “Guess you’ve been starting this meeting for a while now, haven’t you? Go ahead, son. Show me what you’ve learned. We can give it to you one last time.”
More murmurs.
I make eye contact with every last person sitting at the table, then with Carmen, who accompanied me inside and is seated along the wall beside the door with the other executive assistants, and then I begin.
“Four years ago, I walked into this office for my first board meeting, unprepared and ill-equipped to do what you were about to ask me to do,” I say. “While no one would say it out loud, every last one of us knew that Miles2Go was in serious financial trouble, and that my ability to do the job that you had little choice in choosing me to do would determine if we survived or if the corporation my great-grandfather founded would become a footnote in history.”
“It wasn’tthatbad,” my father grouses.
I ignore him. “In the years since, the world has come to regard me as a success, which is one more lie to have come out of this company. Yes, our profit margins are poised for growth. Yes, our franchise owners are the happiest of all major convenience store chains. And yes, this will be the year that shareholders quit holding their breath and see that all of the changes these past few years are paying off.”
A few nods happen around the table.
Someone mutters something about me needing to address my arrest last week.
I ignore that too.
“But here’s the lie—I haven’t been running this company. Every decision I’ve made, with the exception of two, has been at the guidance of Carmen Miller. I am not the CEO of Miles2Go. I’m the man who insisted we keep selling corn dogs, the man who insisted that all profits be diverted to philanthropic endeavors, and the man who did everything else exactly as Carmen advised me to do. Therefore, I’m tendering my immediate resignation from the company, with my full endorsement behind Carmen for the role of the next CEO of Miles2Go.”
Everyone around the table sits straighter.
There are the expected whispers between the people you’d expect to whisper to each other. A broad grin or two from the people who probably suspected this truth all along. Bewilderment from the two or three people who will be loyal to my father forever.
