Page 50 of Worth the Risk
“All in favor of mixed-use development with Highland preservation?”
I raise my hand without hesitation. Patricia joins me, followed by Donovan who looks genuinely conflicted but ultimately votes for preservation.
Three to three.
The silence that follows feels eternal.
“Three to three,” Harrison announces. “In the case of tied board votes, Pierce Enterprises bylaws require the chairman to cast the deciding vote.”
My heart pounds as I realize Highland’s fate comes down to Harrison’s single decision. The man who’s spent months trying to minimize community input is now the sole arbiter of Highland’s future.
Harrison looks around the table, his gaze lingering on Maya’s expectant face, then on mine. “Given our fiduciary responsibility to maximize shareholder return, and considering the increased profitability of luxury development with resolved Metro complications...”
He pauses, and I can see Maya holding her breath.
“I vote for proceeding with luxury condos as originally planned.”
Four to three. Highland loses by Harrison’s single vote.
The silence that follows is deafening. I watch Maya’s face as the reality sinks in—months of work, brilliant research, community hopes, all dismissed by one man’s decision to prioritize profit margins over partnership.
“Motion carries,” Harrison says with obvious satisfaction. “Pierce Enterprises will proceed with demolition and luxury condo construction to begin in six weeks. Miss Navarro, we appreciate your thorough presentation, but the board has decided to maintain our original development strategy.”
Maya sits perfectly still for a moment, her face carefully blank. Then she stands with mechanical precision and begins gathering her materials.
“Miss Navarro,” Harrison calls after her. “Pierce Enterprises will provide generous relocation assistance to ease Highland’s transition.”
Maya pauses, her back still turned to the table. When she speaks, her voice is steady but carrying an edge that makes everyone pay attention.
“Keep your assistance, Mr. Gordon.” She turns to face the board, and there’s something in her expression—not defeat, but a cold fury that’s more intimidating than any emotional outburst. “Highland Community Center has served this community for twenty years with minimal resources and maximum impact. We’ve survived economic downturns, natural disasters, and systematic neglect by city officials who forgot we existed.”
She steps closer to the table, her presence suddenly commanding the room.
“We’ll survive Pierce Enterprises too. But I want this board to understand something.” Her gaze moves from Harrison to each board member in turn. “You didn’t just vote against preserving a building. You voted against twenty years of after-school programs that kept children safe while their parents worked multiple jobs. You voted against ESL classesthat helped immigrants become citizens. You voted against cultural preservation that maintained connections between generations.”
Her voice grows stronger, more passionate.
“You voted against emergency shelter during crises, job training for teenagers aging out of foster care, and citizenship test preparation for people pursuing the American dream. You voted against community meetings where neighbors solved problems together instead of calling police. You voted against the kind of social infrastructure that actually prevents the urban decay your luxury developments claim to solve.”
The board members shift uncomfortably, but Maya isn’t finished.
“Most importantly, you voted to prove that when corporations promise community partnership, they mean partnership that doesn’t cost them anything. You’ve demonstrated that Pierce Enterprises considers community engagement a marketing strategy, not a business principle.”
She gathers the last of her materials, her movements deliberate and controlled.
“Highland will relocate. We’ll rebuild our programs in multiple locations, probably serving families more effectively than centralized programming ever could. We’ll prove that community strength doesn’t depend on corporate generosity or the buildings that house it.” Maya’s smile is sharp, determined. “And when we do, Pierce Enterprises will be remembered as the company that chose profit over partnership when given the opportunity to build something meaningful.”
She heads toward the door, then pauses to look back at the board.
“Thank you for the education about how corporate democracy actually works. Highland’s families will benefit from understanding exactly what they’re up against.”
The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving the board members sitting in uncomfortable silence.
“Well,” Harrison says finally, clearing his throat. “I think that went as well as could be expected. Declan, I’ll need you to coordinate the transition timeline with our construction team.”
I stare at him, processing what he’s asking. Coordinate Highland’s destruction. Manage the demolition of everything Maya cares about after watching her deliver the most powerful defense of community values I’ve ever witnessed.
“Of course,” I hear myself say. “I’ll handle the details.”
