Page 88 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

I continued in a more serious tone. “Earlier today, news came out of the many criminal charges against Clyde Roarke, son of Robert Roarke. I’m sure you’ve all seen it and formed your own opinions about him, insightful as you all are. I will not speak of the charges since the matter is in the hands of the courts now, but I wanted to let you all know that I will also be filing my own civil lawsuit against Clyde Roarke for spreading that malicious video of me.”

My announcement elicited gasps from among the crowd of journalists, who were now eagerly waiting for my next words.

“Yes, I have evidence,” I told them. “And I’ll even tell you the reason why he did it: because he was a coward who wasn’t man enough to have a conversation with me.”

That concluded the bit about Clyde. Now, for the harder, more important part.

I drew a breath. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been a coward, too, for the past few years. Taking charge of a company was a role my grandfather and my father tried to prepare me for all my life, but when the moment came, I still found it to be too much. I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the responsibility thrust upon me, suffocated by the expectations I had to meet. Like most of us do when life gets to be too much, I ran away to keep myself from breaking. But I’m done running. For the past few years, while my wonderful sister led the company to new heights…” I paused to throw a grateful glance at her. “I studied, and I gathered my wits, and did my best to prepare myself to fill my grandfather’s and father’s shoes, and now, I can proudly say I am ready.”

Irina and several other people from Xosmo applauded.

“And the first thing I’m doing? Cutting ties with Roarke Industries and choosing to work with smaller, startup companies with talented people and great ideas from all over the world. I want to bring about more creative and meaningful technological innovations, which we will be telling you more about in the coming months.”

There was another round of applause, this time both from the people in the company and the press.

“Oh, and one more thing.” I took off my tie and my jacket. “No more suits in the office. We’re going more casual.”

I heard cheers of approval from backstage.

I took a bow. “Thank you.”

Once again, cameras flashed. Hands went up in the air.

Irina’s secretary stepped forward. “Mr. Shelton will just be taking five questions.” Then she pointed to a man in the navy blue suit in front.

He stood up. “Mr. Shelton, I’m Pete Barnes from Channel Eight News. Are you saying that video of you is fake?”

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” I greeted him. “It was edited, yes. But I will admit that I do like bikes and dirt bike racing. Maybe I’ll let you know the next time I participate in a race.”

Another reporter stood up. “So, you’re not in a biker gang?”

Technically, it was a motorcycle club.

“I have friends who love bikes and who are some of the most trustworthy people I’ve ever met,” I answered.

“Aren’t you worried that it’s a little too late to step up now?” a female reporter asked next.

“I am,” I confessed. “But I’d like to think it’s never too late in life to do the right thing.”

The next question came from an older man wearing glasses. “Since Roarke Industries is in hot water, there’s a chance it will go bankrupt. Would you be willing to buy out the company in that case?”

I touched my chin as I pondered the question. “I’d be willing to offer the honest, capable workers who are laid off jobs, since I do have some plans for future expansions, but no, I don’t think Xosmo will buy Roarke Industries.”

Irina’s secretary pointed to a woman in her twenties who had been enthusiastically raising her hand for the past three minutes. “Last question.”

The young woman stood up. “Lisa Tanner from NewBiz.com. I was just wondering if you’re married or engaged since that information has not been released.”

My eyebrows arched. “It hasn’t?”

She chuckled.

“Well, Ms. Tanner, I’m happy to say that I am seeing someone very special,” I said. “And do you think you can keep a secret?”

She shrugged. “Yes?”

Some others chuckled.

“I might just propose. Hopefully, she says yes.”

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