Page 77 of Forty, Flirty & Fired

"No." I watch Mac thoroughly demolish Keith's suggestion of a "revolutionary renaissance faire" with the kind of efficiency that makes me want to drag her into my office and... "But maybe clear my calendar for lunch."

"Of course, sir." She makes a note. "Though you might want to know... Keith's planning something called 'Love's Labor's Not Lost: A Revolutionary Romance Revival' for the holiday party."

I nod. “I expected nothing less.”

Watching Mac handle yet another of Keith's enthusiastic ideas, her eyes bright with suppressed laughter as she somehow transforms chaos into progress, I feel that familiar warmth in my chest. But Gerald's words echo: "You know who it is, don't you?"

My phone buzzes - Richard Drake's quarterly check-in, right on schedule. My father's timing has always been impeccable, especially when it comes to uncomfortable reminders.

RICHARD:Interesting article about Drake Enterprises in the Journal. Your mother would have loved all this "corporate culture revolution" talk.

Another text follows immediately:

RICHARD:She had similar ideas about changing Drake Technologies. Right before the '99 crash. Remember how that ended?

I do remember. Every detail of that year is carved into my memory: The way my mother's passionate ideas about "humanizing business" had started changing my father's company. How the board had loved her initially, calling her vision "revolutionary" and "forward-thinking." The way she'd lit up board rooms with her enthusiasm, just like Mac does now.

Then came the crash. The accusations. The choice she made when her new life offered more than the company could.

I look through the glass walls at Mac, remembering my mother in old photos - same passionate gestures, same belief that business could be more than just profit margins. My father had encouraged that belief, right up until it cost him everything.

RICHARD:Saw your Q4 projections. Solid numbers. Don't let... distractions blur your focus. You built something stronger than Drake Technologies ever was.

The unspoken message is clear:Because you chose business over sentiment. Because you learned from my mistakes.

I watch Mac redirect Keith's revolutionary fervor into actual productivity, and my chest tightens. She's changing everything, just like my mother did. Making the company better, just like my mother tried to do.

Right before she walked away, leaving my father with a failing company and a sixteen-year-old son who learned all the wrong lessons about love and business.

My father's final text arrives:

RICHARD:Having dinner at the club tonight. Your usual seat's open if you want to discuss... strategy.

Strategy. His code for "letting you make the same mistakes I did." We've had this dinner a hundred times over twenty years - me choosing the seat that faces the wall where DrakeTechnologies' logo used to hang, him drinking scotch and subtly reminding me why the Drake name means something again.

Because I chose differently. Chose better. Chose business.

Until now.

Through the glass, I watch Mac work her magic on the office dynamics. She's brilliant, passionate, everything I never knew I needed.

And terrifyingly similar to the last woman who made a Drake believe love and business could coexist.

23

DANGEROUS DETAILS

MACKENZIE

Ten days before the Drake Enterprises Christmas Gala, I'm staring at an email from Alex that makes the heavy Seattle snowfall outside my office window feel significantly less festive:

FROM: Alexander Drake

TO: Mackenzie Gallo

SUBJECT: Latest Blog Post Draft

Mac - Saw your draft about executive compensation structures. While I support your mission for transparency, some of these numbers are problematic. The board is asking questions about information security. Can we discuss?

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