Page 76 of Forty, Flirty & Fired

"The timing of a security breach," Gerald snaps. "This blogger is a liability?—"

"This blogger is the reason we're leading the industry in corporate culture reform." The words come easily, naturally. "The reason other companies are following our lead. The reason our stock is up fifteen percent since implementing these changes."

"Alexander," Barbara starts, but I'm not finished.

"Did you read the latest post? Actually read it?" I pull up the article on the display screen. "About the human cost of our old policies? About the real impact of treating employees like assets instead of people?"

"That's exactly our point," Gerald interrupts. "The post shows intimate knowledge of our previous practices?—"

"Because those practices were wrong." I stand, unable to contain my energy. "And someone was brave enough to say it. To show us a better way."

Through the glass walls, I catch sight of Mac walking past. She's explaining something to a group of developers, her hands moving animatedly, her entire being radiating the passion that made me fall for her in the first place.

"The blog posts aren't a threat," I continue, turning back tothe board. "They're a gift. A mirror showing us everything we needed to fix. And instead of hunting down the source, we should be thanking them."

Silence falls. Even Amelia Zegen looks thoughtful.

"You know who it is," Gerald says slowly. "Don't you?"

I meet his gaze steadily. "I know that witch hunts don't improve corporate culture. I know that anonymous criticism often comes from people who care enough to risk everything for change. And I know that if this board spent half as much time implementing improvements as they do searching for someone to blame, we wouldn't need anonymous bloggers in the first place."

"Alex," Barbara's voice softens slightly. "This isn't just about the blog anymore, is it?"

I think about Mac in my cabin, snow falling outside while we built something real. About her passion for change, her brilliance, her courage in fighting for what's right.

"No," I admit. "It's about what kind of company we want to be. What kind of leaders we want to be."

My phone buzzes – Mac:

MAC:Keith's organizing a "love revolution lunch hour." There are heart-shaped berets involved. Send help.

I smile despite the tension.

"The board needs to vote," Gerald insists. "About pursuing this investigation?—"

"The board needs to read the actual impact reports," I cut in. "About how our new policies are improving lives. Creating real change. Setting industry standards."

"But—"

"I have another meeting," I stand, straightening my jacket. "About implementing phase two of our mental health initiatives. Unless the board would prefer to discuss why we're afraid of positive change?"

I leave them sitting there, shellshocked. Emma falls into step beside me.

"That was..."

"Revolutionary?"

"I was going to say 'career-risking,' but yes."

I smile, heading for Mac's office. Through the glass, I can see her dealing with what appears to be Keith's attempt at choreographing a dance number about corporate romance.

"Some things," I tell Emma, "are worth the risk."

"Like love?" She asks dryly.

"Like change." I pause at Mac's door. "Though sometimes they're the same thing."

"Very philosophical, sir." She checks her tablet. "Should I cancel the rest of your meetings?"

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