The penthouse is silent around me, and somewhere beyond that closed studio door, Rosanna is working on illustrations of impossible gardens. And I'm standing here with unsigned paperwork, and a board vote scheduled for Friday.
I stand in the hallway and listen to the silence, trying to figure out how to survive the next seventy-two hours.
Chapter twenty-eight
The Board
The boardroom is quiet as Graham steps inside.
The long glass table is half full. Chen reviews a printed packet, Robert pours coffee from the carafe at the sideboard. Malcolm stands near the windows, hands clasped loosely behind his back, staring down at the grid of streets below.
Only one seat remains empty.
The chair at the head of the table.
Graham sets his folder down and takes his own seat beside it.
"Seamus running late?" Robert asks mildly.
"Possibly," Graham says.
He doesn't elaborate.
The truth is simpler: Seamus confirmed attendance for Friday's formal vote, not today's strategy meeting. Which means the board has a narrow window to settle things before the vote.
Sometimes leadership means making space for a CEO to save face.
Sometimes it means removing the choice entirely.
Malcolm turns from the windows as the last board member slips into her chair.
"Shall we begin?" Graham asks.
No one objects.
Graham folds his hands on the table. "First item: Heritage Street."
He lets the words settle before continuing.
"I think it's fair to acknowledge that Seamus finds himself in a difficult position."
Several eyes turn toward him.
"His wife is pursuing the historical designation," Graham continues. "His personal feelings are clouding his judgement."
Robert frowns.
"Seamus has handled difficult situations before."
"Of course," Graham says easily. "And no one here doubts his commitment to the company."
He pauses, letting the implication settle.
"But we would be remiss not to recognize the pressure he's under."
Chen speaks quietly.
"You're suggesting he's compromised."
