Page 42 of Collateral Damage
“I’m doing well, Sybil,” he says. “I want to see howyouare doing?”
I don’t know him well enough to tell him the truth, and it’s not as if I can be completely honest with my boss. He’s not my father, someone I told almost everything to. Dad and I were close. Sure, Vale has been around the company for years since he was the chief operations officer before stepping into this interim role, but he was Dad’s business associate. He wasn’t really a family friend.
Frankly, Vale lacks charisma, but he makes up for it with ambition. He’ll do whatever it takes to get that CEO position, even if that cost includes buttering me up.
“I’m doing well,” I answer carefully. “It’s been busy, but I’ve got Laurence at the forefront of my mind.”
Vale nods, silvery eyes assessing me. He’s in his fifties, with graying hair to match those gray eyes. I’ve always found him a little unsettling. He’s not a warm person, but he’s done a good job since Dad died. The shareholders are happy, and the pressure for the board to promote him officially has been growing.
But with Conrad King’s newest bombshell, our stocks are precarious again, andTop of the Worldneeds to be flawless. Not only so Laurence can make our investment worth it, but that five percent Cooper owns is making people nervous.
“I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” Vale drums his fingertips on the top of my desk. “But I want you to report directly to me for the time being.”
I swallow hard. I’m fully aware a lot of eyes in the company are currently turned in my direction, so I’m not surprised Vale wants to keep close tabs.
“We have a lot riding on your success,” he confirms. “I so wish your father were here to see it. I know you’ll succeed. He knew it, too.”
Something about the compliment rings false.
I sit up taller. “Am I right to assume you don’t just want reports on the foundation work, but you want me to share what’s going on with Top of the World?”
His eyes flash with approval. “That’s correct. Everything you’re working on is important. You have a lot to juggle, my girl.”
He says “my girl” like my father used to, like he thinks of me as a child looking for his guidance. It makes me instantly miss Dad and puts a sour taste in my mouth about Vale.
“I won’t fail,” I reply.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you. Talk to HR about hiring an assistant. You’re going to need help, and I expect you’ll do whatever it takes. Do you understand?”
I run my hands across imaginary wrinkles in my skirt. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He knocks once on my desk as if to seal the deal. “Every Friday, I want a full report. Contact my admin to set up a standing fifteen-minute one-on-one meeting.”
With that, he exits the office, closing the glass door behind him. It’s not until he’s completely removed from my eye-line that my muscles relax. Vale never made me nervous before. He wasn’t someone I needed to worry about. My dad had my back, and I knew no matter what, I had a place at Laurence International.
Now? I’m not so sure.
Just because I don’t need this job for money doesn’t mean I don’t want this career.
I love this job. This is my company, too.
My legacy.
As a massive conglomerate with holdings in many sectors, there are a lot of things I could do here, but the foundation work holds my heart. I don’t see myself doing anything besides nonprofit work. Sure, I love interior design, but that’s a hobby, and it doesn’t fulfill me like this fulfills me. There are other ways to do it, of course, but The Laurence Foundation is mine.
Just then, Miriam Katz, my real boss and the current president of the foundation, barrels into my office like an angry Karen, ready to ask for the manager.
“What wasLance Valedoing in here?” she demands, spitting his name out like it’s a curse word.
I sigh and lean into my chair. “He wants me to report to him now.”
Which means he wants me to go above her.
She presses her hand to her heart in outrage, eyes going wide underneath her round spectacles. “That man! Iknewhe never liked me.” She mutters a few Yiddish curse words and paces the length of my small office. Miriam isn’t the type to sit down for long, even at her age. Not that I know her exact age. She treats it like a state secret, but she’s got to be pushing seventy.
I shake my head. “He likes you fine, Miriam. He wants me to report to him because of the show I’m co-producing and the issue with the five percent stake in the company.”
She knows all the drama, but she still turns on me with her hands on her hips and incredulous lines around her mouth. “As if you’d ever fail. You’re the most capable employee I’ve managed in decades. That greedy little bastard is trying to get me to retire faster. Mark my words, he wants me out. He’s neverliked me, not since I told him off in 2003 for wearing too much cheap cologne and giving me a migraine.”
