Page 87 of Shifting Gears

Renée looks too stunned to speak.

“I’ll be presenting a new proposal at the next quarterly meeting,” Nora says. “A case study for introducing clean energy to our docket. The first step will be starting an environmental department at CromTech.”

“You’re committing career suicide,” Renée says in quiet disbelief. “No investor will ever back that. It’s a financial black hole.”

“It’s a proving ground for our new direction. The world is changing. This company is changing. If you’re set on opposing that change, I suggest that you retire or find a position elsewhere,” Nora says, aiming for an air of finality. “Otherwise, I think it’s high time we put aside petty personal squabbles and move forward.”

“So you truly believe that you’re the best person to be at the helm?” Renée snaps, standing up suddenly and planting her hands on the table. “You’re going to run this company into the ground.”

Nora raises a calm eyebrow. “As opposed to you doing it yourself?”

Renée looks around the room for support. The smugness she started the meeting with is slipping away with the lack of vocal disagreement amongst the other board members. “Why not? You’re not the only one in the room with a business degree.”

“So that’s what this has all been about,” Nora says, folding her arms. She’s done this long enough to understand that half of business is theatre. All unwitting, Renée has walked right into a trap. She’s shown her hand too early. Too eagerly.

The energy in the room seems to shift.

Renée’s voice is shrill. “This is about your absence and the financial strain you’ve put on—”

“Apparently this is about your inability to accept that the man you were married to for less than three years didn’t leave his entire legacy to you,” Nora says sharply.

A murmur runs along the table. Renée’s jaw twitches, her fingers turning white against the polished wood.

“If this is the way you would plan to run this company,” Nora says, looking around and making eye contact with each person in the room, “I’d advise everyone else to make backup plans. Underhanded dealings and secret meetings can switch targets on a dime.”

Cowed by the now significantly less friendly eyes on her, Renée sinks back down into her chair. The creak of springs is audible in the otherwise silent room.

“Let’s get to the crux of this meeting,” Kayla says, breaking through the awkwardness with utter confidence. “All in favour of removing Eleanor Cromwell from her position as CEO of CromTech?”

Renée’s hand shoots into the air. A few of the others look to each other, nervous and twitchy — Roger McMurray, Renée’s right-hand man, starts to raise his hand under Renée’s glare before his neighbour elbows him. He lowers it quickly.

“And all opposed?” Kayla says. She raises her hand first, but slowly every other arm in the room goes up. Renée stands alone in their midst.

“Motion denied. Almost unanimously,” Ash says jovially.

“And with that, I believe this meeting is concluded,” Nora says, the exhaustion catching up with her all at once. She flips her folder of notes closed, gathering them and heading straight to the door. “I’ll present my findings and new proposal at our regularly scheduled meeting at the end of the month.”

Nora has but a few minutes alone in her office before Kayla and Ash arrive, flush with pride and intent on celebrating the win, but celebration is the last thing Nora feels like doing. Her so-called victory feels emptier than the empty apartment waiting for her at the end of her very long day.

Victory is making Dani laugh. It sounds like the gratefulness in Dani’s voice when Nora put in the effort to accommodate her needs. Victory tastes like pizza and beer on the River Run patio, smells like fresh air and cool water after a day in the sun with her friends. It feels like the warmth of Dani’s kiss.

This day is just another heavy weight on Nora’s shoulders.

The sheer legwork involved in proving her plan is viable at least gives Nora the opportunity to put her sorrows out of her mind. There’s less backlog in the regular work than she assumed there would be—Ash and Kayla have done a great job in her absence, fitting into their temporary roles more easily than Nora ever did—but there’s still so much to catch up on after four and a half months away that, for a while, she can cope.

All Nora needs to do to avoid missing Dani is work incessantly, exhausting herself every day and interrupting any unwelcome thoughts with paperwork and research.

Ash and Kayla try to help, filling Nora’s time and making sure she eats enough to keep her blood sugar up, but Nora can see the way they share worried looks every time they think she isn’t looking. It’s almost a return to routine, if it weren’t for the ever-present ache in Nora’s chest that worsens whenever she has a spare moment to think.

Nora’s belongings arrive from Riverwalk a week after her departure. Folded carefully at the top of the third box of clothes is Dani’s blue-and-red checkered flannel.

* * *

In this rhythm, Nora doesn’t thrive, necessarily, but she survives. Her old clothes feel stiff and restricting after a summer of jeans and sundresses, her feet aching now that she’s abandoned her flat-soled boots, but she steps back into her dusty stilettos and adapts.

September turns into October. October to November. Nora’s project is approved by the board with few alterations. Kayla takes the lead on restructuring the departments, and Ash dives headfirst into networking and fundraising. Nora’s life is a cycle, going around and around and around as she consistently fails to re-acclimate to her old patterns. Everything feels shaky and unfamiliar—from her morning commute to her hectic schedule—and she’s walked away from the one person who ever made her feel stable.

Thoughts about Dani are restricted to the few moments before she falls asleep, when her brain relaxes enough to let her guard down and that bright smile comes floating back into her memory. More often than not, Nora wakes up with the foggy perception that she’s still in Riverwalk. Opening her eyes to find stark white walls instead of warm yellow is a crushing disappointment every morning, but she drags herself through the days anyway.

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