Page 88 of The Perfect Mistake

Ha.

Alec: Let me guess. They’re trading sexy texts, and the hero just finished telling the heroine what he will do to her when he gets home from work.

There’s silence on the other end, and that sudden pause makes me smile. Yeah. The hero can do that, for sure. I have more than a few fantasies about Isabel. Lately, they’ve been occupying valuable real estate in my mind, leaving me distracted, on edge, and horny.

A sharp sound emits from my speaker, and then my assistant’s voice cuts through the room. “David Connovan here to see you.”

I run a hand over my face. Of course. Someone in the company, most likely Lauren, must have tipped him off about the board meeting.

“Send him in,” I say.

The solid wood door to my office opens, and Dad strides into the space that used to be his. His thick gray hair is brushed back, and his hands are locked behind his back.

I rise. “Dad. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He strolls past the bookcases in my office, pausing at times to inspect a book or a knick-knack on one of the shelves. His attention lingers on the image of his grandchildren I’ve placed there.

“Thought I’d attend the board meeting,” he says. “As a silent partner, of course. I won’t interfere with your leadership.”

Right.

But just him being there would. Interfere with how comfortable everyone around the table is, for one. Muddle the hierarchy when it’s actually crystal clear.

He’s Contron’s former boss. Not its current one.

Dad raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong with that?”

“No,” I say.

He sits down on the chair across from my desk. He’s shorter than me by two inches, and stockier in build now, but other than that, we’re very similar.

People love to comment on it.

“I think Mark is considering retiring from the board.”

Oh, fuck.

“He hasn’t made any formal decisions,” I say.

Dad runs a hand over the edge of the desk. “I think I should step back in. Retiring from the board was the wrong decision, and there’s still expertise I can share.”

Not being on the board doesn’t seem to stop you from doing that anyway, I think. I already know that Lauren still reports to him. Now he’s had an informal conversation with Mark, too?

I don’t want him back on the board. If he was thinking about what’s best for Contron and not with his own ego, he’d realize that, too.

Dad built Contron from a national brand to an international corporate superpower. A conglomerate with more legs than a spider. He made it what it is today. But that doesn’t mean it was a company without faults when I joined the executive team.

Under my stewardship, we’ve taken wiser risks, rather than clinging to the ones that made David Connovan feel good. We’ve gotten leaner and faster, streamlined management, and hired top-notch outside counsel. We’re not in the growth phase anymore. We’re thriving at the maintenance stage.

I also got rid of most of Dad’s “yes men.” He’d noticed, even if he only slyly commented on his former favorites being demoted, retired, or replaced.

“So?” he asks. “Will you make the announcement?”

He stares me down in the way that is so uniquely his. Cave, that look says. And for many years of my adolescence, I had. Every single time.

Why didn’t you get an A? Practice the piano. You’ll work here over the summer.

But he has no foothold left in Contron, apart from his shares.

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