Chương 9
“Did she know Wrenfield was mine?”
“We haven’t established that.”
“Then how did this start?”
Thomas rotated his laptop.
“There was another email.”
It was from Friday morning.
Lydia had sent Derek a draft attendance sheet for Thursday.
Board members.
Elaine.
Corporate secretary.
Outside counsel.
Executive leadership.
At the bottom, under shareholder representatives, Wrenfield Capital Trust appeared beside a placeholder reading BENEFICIAL OWNER OR DESIGNEE.
Derek’s reply contained one line.
Find out who that is before Monday.
I read it twice.
“That sounds normal.”
Thomas nodded.
“It could be.”
“A CEO should know who owns ninety percent.”
“Yes.”
“So he asks.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
Grant answered.
“Then he receives your name Monday morning.”
“And thirty-one minutes later, he asks HR to fire me.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Elaine.
She was studying me now, not the papers.
“What?”
I asked.
“You want this to be simpler than it is.”
“That is an irritating thing to say.”
“I know.”
She folded her arms.
“But you do.”
I sat at last.
“What is complicated about it?”
“You were already fighting with him.”
“I was challenging decisions.”
“You were fighting with him.”
Her tone was not hostile.
That made it harder to dismiss.
“He complained about you in executive meetings.”
“What did he say?”
“That you resisted direction.”
“I did.”
“That you bypassed hierarchy.”
“I didn’t.”
Elaine gave me a look.
I waited.
Then I remembered three separate occasions when I had gone directly to her about spending controls after Derek dismissed concerns.
“I went to finance.”
“You went around him.”
“Because he wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m not saying you were wrong.”
“You’re saying he had reasons before Monday.”
“Yes.”
The anger inside me shifted again.
I hated the movement of it.
I had wanted the timeline to form a clean straight line from discovery to retaliation.
Human motives rarely respected straight lines.
Thomas said, “We need to distinguish between a termination he was already considering and one triggered by learning your ownership.”
“Did HR have anything before Monday?”
I asked.
Grant flipped through his notes.
“No formal request.”
“Any performance documentation?”
“Some.”
My stomach tightened.
“From when?”
“Beginning in June.”
That surprised me.
“What kind?”
“Manager notes.”
“Derek’s notes?”
“Yes.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
I held out my hand.
Grant did not give me the papers.
“They are part of the review.”
“I am the subject of the review.”
“You are also the controlling shareholder.”
“So?”
“So we are not handing you personnel files because you’re angry.”
I withdrew my hand.
He was right.
I hated him for approximately the ninth time that day.
“What do the notes say?”
Thomas answered instead.
“They describe you as resistant, politically connected, and unusually confident that your objections would be protected.”
I stared at him.
“Politically connected?”
“His phrase.”
“To whom?”
“He doesn’t specify.”
Elaine said, “He once asked me why nobody ever seemed willing to discipline you.”
My attention snapped toward her.
“When?”
“July.”
“What did you say?”
“That I had no idea what he meant.”
She looked uncomfortable now.
“Which was not completely true.”
“You knew I owned Harborstone.”
“Yes.”
“So what did you tell him?”
“Nothing.”
That word changed the room.
I sat back.
Elaine’s fingers tightened around one another.
“He asked whether you were related to somebody on the board.”
“And?”
“I told him employee relationships weren’t my area.”
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”
“Because you made it extremely clear that your ownership was not to affect your employment.”
“That isn’t the same as lying.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You let him operate without information.”
Her eyes hardened.
“So did you.”
The sentence hit exactly where it was aimed.
Thomas looked between us but did not interrupt.
Elaine continued.
“You wanted to be treated like everyone else.”
“Yes.”
“But everyone else doesn’t own the company.”
“I never used that at work.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She pushed her chair back an inch.
“People who knew were constantly making decisions about what could be said around you, to you, or about you.”
“That wasn’t what I wanted.”
“It was what existed.”
I felt heat rise into my face.
“Are you saying Derek was justified?”
“No.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying you built a situation where half the leadership team knew a fact that materially changed your position, and the other half was expected to treat you like an ordinary analyst.”
The room stayed quiet.
Grant looked down at his notes.
Thomas watched me with the expression he used when he believed discomfort was doing useful work.
I hated them all for about five seconds.
Then I hated myself because Elaine was not entirely wrong.
“What should I have done?”
I asked.
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
“I don’t know.”
That answer surprised me more than certainty would have.
“I really don’t,” she said.
“Maybe disclose it when Derek was hired.”
“I was afraid everything would change.”
“It did anyway.”
Nobody argued with that.
Grant closed the binder.
“This is relevant, but it does not excuse manipulation of board reporting.”
Elaine nodded.
“Obviously.”
“Nor does it resolve whether the termination was retaliatory.”
I looked at him.
“Then what does?”
“Evidence of motive.”
“Which we may never get.”
“Correct.”
Thomas said, “We may not need perfect motive to decide whether Derek should remain CEO.”
That shifted the conversation.
“Because of the reporting?”
I asked.
“Because of the reporting, Ridgewell, Carlos, and the pattern of management decisions.”
Grant lifted a finger.
“Careful.”
Thomas looked annoyed.
“I did not say we had reached a conclusion.”
“You were approaching one at speed.”
Elaine stood.
“I need coffee.”
“There’s a machine outside,” Thomas said.
“That machine produces brown regret.”
“I’ve been drinking it for twelve years.”
“That explains things.”
She picked up her jacket but did not put it on.
At the door, she stopped and looked at me.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Derek understood what he was walking into with you.”
“That sounds almost sympathetic.”
“It isn’t.”
May you like
Her mouth twisted.
“I also don’t think you understood what everybody else was walking into.”
