Chương 10
"That sounds like a rich-person problem."
I looked at her.
She froze, as though she had crossed a line.
Then I laughed.
"That was almost rude."
"Sorry."
"Don't ruin it."
Her mouth twitched.
For a moment, the air in the room loosened.
Then my phone buzzed.
Daniel.
I stared at the name.
Clara saw it.
"Are you going to answer?"
"I haven't decided."
"It will stop ringing eventually."
"Excellent strategic advice."
She gave me a look.
I answered.
"Morning."
Daniel spoke too fast.
"Hey, are you up?"
"I'm talking to you."
"Right."
A pause.
"How are you?"
"Still devastatingly handsome."
"Good."
Another pause.
He was building toward something.
"What do you need, Daniel?"
"I wanted to come by."
"When?"
"Now, maybe."
"Why?"
"Can I not visit my friend?"
"You didn't yesterday."
"Yesterday was insane."
"For whom?"
"For everybody."
He exhaled.
"Listen, Martin scheduled a prep session for this afternoon."
"For Monday?"
"Yeah."
"Why didn't I get an invitation?"
Silence.
There it was.
"Daniel?"
"It's not really a normal prep session."
"What is it?"
"Board members talking through continuity options."
"Without the CEO."
"You've been out for a month."
"I'm still CEO."
"I know."
"Do they?"
He lowered his voice.
"That's why I want to come over."
I looked at Clara.
She was no longer folding towels.
"Come at eleven."
"Can we make it ten?"
"Why?"
"Martin's meeting starts at noon."
"Eleven."
"Okay."
He hesitated.
"Adrian?"
"Yes?"
"I should've said something last night."
"About Vanessa?"
"About a lot of things."
My chest tightened.
"Then say them at eleven."
I hung up.
Clara leaned against the table.
"Are you going to ask him about Tuesday?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because if he lies, I want to know what he lies about before he knows what I know."
She studied me.
"You do this a lot."
"What?"
"Talk like people are negotiations."
The comment irritated me because it was accurate.
"I run a company."
"You're not at work."
"Apparently I am."
She shook her head.
I almost defended myself.
Instead I looked at the neat stacks of towels.
"What would you do?"
"If my friend was hiding something?"
"Yes."
"I'd ask why."
"That's too simple."
"Maybe that's why you don't do it."
I had no answer.
At ten forty-five, Owen positioned himself in the adjoining library with the door open.
Not hidden.
Not theatrical.
Just present enough to intervene if needed and distant enough to let Daniel talk.
Vanessa had gone home.
My father had left early for the club, apparently unaware that his brother might be trying to take control of the company he founded.
I debated telling him.
Then I remembered his cardiologist warning us after his last episode that stress management was no longer optional.
For once, secrecy felt less like strategy and more like mercy.
Daniel arrived at 10:58 carrying two coffees.
He held one up when he entered.
"I remembered."
"Black, one sugar?"
"Black, no sugar."
"Then you remembered somebody else's."
He stared at the cup.
"Damn it."
"Lucy gets the horse."
"That's not legally binding."
"It is in this room."
He smiled weakly and set both coffees down.
Then he looked at the wheelchair.
His smile disappeared.
"You look tired."
"So do you."
"I have two kids."
"I have a board."
"Fair."
He sat across from me.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he rubbed his palms on his knees.
"Martin thinks Monday should be about activating the succession plan."
"Temporary?"
"He says temporary."
"Do you believe him?"
Daniel looked toward the window.
"No."
That answer came without hesitation.
"Why?"
"Because he has been calling directors individually."
"Since when?"
"About two weeks."
"Before or after he asked you to retrieve projections from my study?"
Daniel froze.
There was no dramatic reaction.
Just stillness.
Then his eyes returned to mine.
"Who told you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because whoever told you doesn't have the whole story."
I almost smiled.
Everyone seemed to love that phrase.
"Then give me the whole story."
Daniel leaned back.
He looked toward the open library door.
"Is Owen listening?"
"Probably."
"Great."
"He knows you accessed the restructuring folder."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Of course he does."
"He also knows you were in my study Tuesday."
His eyes opened.
"You've been investigating me."
"I've been investigating everyone."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
He stood and paced toward the fireplace.
"You want the truth?"
"I've been patient."
"No, you've been suspicious."
"Daniel."
"Martin asked me to pull projections."
"From my private study."
"Because you weren't answering work calls."
"I was in rehabilitation."
"You were also declining secure remote review."
"Because I wanted to see what happened when I stopped holding everyone's hand."
His head turned.
There was anger in his face now.
"Do you hear yourself?"
I said nothing.
Daniel came closer.
"Nine thousand four hundred employees, remember?"
The number struck me because Vanessa had gotten it wrong and he hadn't.
"Payroll doesn't pause because Adrian Cole is running a loyalty experiment."
My stomach tightened.
"What did you call it?"
"You heard me."
"I didn't tell you about any experiment."
His face shifted.
Too late.
Neither of us moved.
"Who used that word with you?" I asked.
Daniel looked away.
"Nobody."
"Don't."
"Adrian—"
"Who?"
He dragged a hand through his hair.
"Vanessa."
The answer hit sideways.
"When?"
"Last week."
"What exactly did she say?"
"That she thought you were testing everyone."
"Why would she think that?"
"I don't know."
"Daniel."
"I don't know."
His voice cracked with frustration.
"She said you were watching people more than usual, asking weird questions, refusing to release medical details."
"That doesn't equal an experiment."
"No."
"So what else?"
He sat again.
The fight seemed to drain out of him.
"She said you always do this."
"Do what?"
"Create conditions and see who fails."
I stared at him.
The description was uncomfortably familiar.
I had done it in negotiations.
May you like
I had done it with executives.
Once, I had deliberately withheld a supplier concession just to see which vice president would panic.
