My father bolts to his feet. “Who do you think you are?—”
I cut him off. “Following the shareholder vote to confirm Carmen, I will also be distributing my twenty-five percent share of the stockholdings of Miles2Go to the individual franchise owners across the North American continent, putting more control of the company directly into the hands of the people who interact daily with the customers who keep our business running.”
The murmurs become a swell of voices.
“Are you mad?” Davinia Kasper, the company’s CFO, asks me.
I smile at her. “I was. Very angry, in fact, for most of my tenure here. Happy to report I’ve found a new purpose in life and will be leaving Manhattan permanently very soon. I trust you’ll be in good hands with Carmen.”
“He’s lost his marbles,” someone I can’t identify says. Probably Jerry McFee. He’s always thought there was something wrong with me.
“Thank you for your belief in me and in the company my great-grandfather founded,” I say to the room. “As I’m no longer your CEO, I won’t be staying. But if I could ask for one favor—it would be an honor to see the philanthropic efforts continue when I’m gone. I spent the past two weeks traveling the country and seeing for myself the difference we’ve made, and I believe the company will only benefit from continuing to be a good neighbor to the world.”
I nod to the room. “Thank you. Enjoy your meeting.”
I don’t take questions. I don’t address my arrest—public sentiment was so firmly on my side that it wouldn’t have been an issue even if I’d wanted to stay.
I don’t shake anyone’s hand.
Except Carmen. I stop, thank her personally for everything she’s done the past four years, shake her hand, and wish her luck.
She’s the second person with my new phone number.
She’d be the third, but Archie’s a dick who hasn’t gotten me Daphne’s phone number.
Also, I don’t think she’ll use it.
She doesn’t need me.
Archie’s waiting for me in the lobby of the building. “Someone live streamed that,” he tells me as we stroll outside to his waiting car.
“Klein’s assistant. Figured he would. Might have said the right thing to the right person to make sure it happened.”
“Still live streaming. Want to see?”
“No.”
“Not at all?”
“Truly don’t give a single fuck what else happens there.”
“Even if it’s—huh. Weird.” He pauses and waves his phone at me. Margot’s calling him. “This might be for you.”
I wince.
The dickhead grins, then answers. “Morning, Margs. What brings you into my ear today after ignoring me all weekend?”
He climbs into his car.
I follow him. He’s giving me a lift to my car, so I have to, unless I want to experience New York City taxis.
Could be fun.
But I’d rather have fun with Daphne than do this on my own.
“Uh-huh,” he says into his phone. “Sure, sure. Understood… Great. See you then.”
He hangs up and grins at me. “Have an extra twenty minutes?”
