Page 115 of Power
“That’s ridiculous,” Marcus spat.
Randolph turned to me. “First, you buy this bad company, missing out on the much higher profits of the other companies we had the opportunity to buy. Now, you’re dating an employee when you know it has the power to take down a half-billion-dollar deal.”
“I didn’t know she worked at this company when we started dating,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Did you know last night?” Randolph asked, and so help me, he might as well have had a handlebar mustache that he was twirling. “Marcus will take over as CEO.”
“So, you’re going to sabotage the deal, bankrupt this company, put over six thousand people out of work, and try to steal my company out from under me?” My voice was deadly quiet. “You think I’ll let you get away with that?”
“You seem to be under the impression that we don’t have the power to do it.” Randolph’s smug expression made me want to put my stapler through his esophagus.
Power. The word stopped me cold, and I realized that in this moment, this was what Scarlett was talking about. When other people held power over you and wielded it against you like a weapon.
“This is absurd,” Marcus said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I will not become the CEO. In fact, if you do this, if you oust Jace? You’ll have my resignation by the end of the day.”
Randolph nodded to his fellow board members as if this was the response he’d expected.
“Tempers are hot in this room,” Randolph said, feigning reasonableness. “We’ll give you some time to think it over. I implore you to reconsider, Marcus. Because if you don’t take over this company, we will find someone else to do it.”
“Jace is the best leader I’ve ever worked with,” Marcus insisted.
“And you’ve been his right-hand man this entire time,” Randolph countered smoothly. “You know this organization inside and out. You know how companies are turned around.”
“Jace is the CEO,” Marcus said firmly. “I will never oust him.”
“We’ll give you thirty minutes to reconsider,” Randolph said, gathering his things. “Otherwise, Lockwood Holdings will likely go under.”
59
JACE
“He’s bluffing,” Marcus said, running a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tight.
I sank into my chair, the weight of reality crushing down on me. “He’s not.”
“They can’t do this.” Marcus paced the office. “We have a team of lawyers. We’ll go over that contract with a fine-tooth comb. Both the purchase agreement and whatever bullshit rights these board members think they have.”
“Marcus—”
“Did you even see that photo?” His tiny eyes narrowed to slits. “I caught a glimpse before he snatched it away. It was grainy as hell. There’s no way they can know for sure that’s Scarlett in that photo.” He hesitated, and I watched him slip from colleague to friend. “Is it true? You two dating?”
When I said nothing, he dragged a hand over his face. “You could date anyone, Jace.”
The unspoken words hung between us:dating her, of all people, jeopardizes everything we’ve built.He had every right to be pissed, every right to remind me what was at stake. But being the friend he was, he swallowed the lecture. My stomach twisted into knots.Poor Scarlett.
“I can’t believe someone was following us.”
“So, all we have to do is convince them that it’s not an employee in that photo.” Marcus snapped his fingers, the sound sharp. “We could even hire someone to play the role of your girlfriend. If there’s no proof it’s an employee, there’s no morality clause to execute. If Scarlett is willing to deny this relationship and deny it’s her in the photo, they have no ground to stand on.”
“I just admitted to dating her,” I reminded him.
He flicked his fingers, like this was a minor detail. “We’ll retract that statement, say you misspoke. To execute the clause, they’ll need cold, hard proof. Witness statements.”
A strange feeling washed over me. Not the familiar burn of anger at being betrayed or the cold calculation of business strategy. This was different. Protective, fierce. “I won’t put Scarlett in that position. I won’t ask her to lie for me.”
“Look,” Marcus said, his voice gentler now. “I know you’re honorable and noble or whatever?—”
“Am I?” I asked, snapping my eyes to him, the weight of my past pressing down on me.
