A brand-new week, as a matter of fact.
Too bad it was only eight forty in the morning and not Friday night.
Blaise yawned.
The comfortable couch called to him, but he sat at his desk.
He set the alarm on his cell phone, rested his elbows on his desk, cradled his head, and closed his eyes. The darkness and quiet soothed the thoughts pounding in his brain. He called the brief periods of rest nano-naps. They helped him stay alert all day, especially when he arrived before the markets opened in New York.
Blaise inhaled, filling his lungs to capacity before exhaling through his mouth. That didn’t relieve the tension knotting the cords at the back of his neck. But he continued the breathing until…
Beep-beep-beep.
He startled. Opened his eyes. Straightened.
As he shut off the alarm, he noticed the time. Almost nine. He’d managed a few minutes of sleep, but he still felt wiped out. Far from typical for a Monday, but he hadn’t expected to be chastised for forty minutes by two board members this morning.
Stop micromanaging.
Let go of control.
Be nicer.
Smile.
Compliment people.
Attend an anger management course.
Blaise’s muscles tightened. They acted like he went on rampages with his staff. He didn’t or hadn’t. Yes, he expected hard work. Of course, he raised his voice, as needed. More than once he’d lost his temper. So had others in similar positions.
Well, everyone except Dash.
Nothing phased the Wonderkid.
Blaise wanting to know what was going on with a project shouldn’t be a big deal. This washiscompany. One privately held and making people an obscene amount of money. But the only thing the Board of Directors wanted to oversee these days was him.
Which was ridiculous.
His employees were fortunate to work at Blai$e. So what if he didn’t sing “Kumbaya” with them every day? Or put on a cheery morning meeting, AKA “asa no chorei,” as they did in Japan?
That wasn’t his style.
But he did what he could—and listened to the HR department’s recommendations—to keep his employees healthy and happy with extra days off and every on-site benefit known to tech employees on the West Coast. Not to mention giving yearly bonuses at Christmastime based on profits. Last spring’s move into a state-of-the-art corporate headquarters allotted dedicated space for mental health experts, ergonomic specialists, massage therapists, and personal trainers. He’d brought in experts on drug abuse, which had become an issue for companies because of the long hours, workload, and stress. The private gym rivaled commercial ones. Chefs provided healthy food and beverages to keep workers from relying on a steady diet of energy drinks and junk food.
But why wasn’t that enough?
Blaise balled his hands.
The board didn’t care what he did for employees. They wanted to focus on Blaise.
Hisfailings.Hisfaults.Hisflaws.
As if they’d been the ones who created a business in a studio apartment with one employee—him—and turned it into a top investment company with three hundred thirteen employees and billions invested with them. He doubted any of the board members even knew the exact number of people who worked at Blai$e as of this morning.
He did, because HR kept him posted, at his request. They were still down a few after the fiasco last month.
A knock sounded before Trevor peeked his head inside the office and then entered. “I rescheduled your four o’clock.”
