Page 3 of That Fake Feeling
Everyhead nods.
Oh, they have no right to do this.
Bubblesof fury rise and burst inside me.
Ifit weren’t for me and my company, these people wouldn’t be sitting here now, with great jobs, industry-leading salaries, and the finest benefits package anyone could wish for.Andeating a free breakfast.
“JesusfuckingChrist.”Tooagitated to stay in my seat,Ishove my chair back from the table and stand up. “I’mnot going to sit here and listen to this shit from you.”
Iwince as my head throbs again from getting up too quickly.
“Wethought not,”Jorgesays as he taps at his laptop. “So, we’ve lined up a couple of people we think youwilllisten to.”
Theimage of my peeing form, thankfully, disappears from the screen.
It’sreplaced by a video call with my older brother,Max, and our cousin,Walker.Walker’smore like a brother than a cousin, and more like a best friend than a brother.
Myhands land on top of my head as if trying to contain my exploding brain.Howdare they?
“Whatthe ever-loving fuck,Jorge?It’spretty low to bring my family into this.Theseguys have nothing to do with this company.”
“Butwe have very much to do withyou,”Maxsays.
Walkernods.
They’resmiling—but concerned smiles, not happy ones.
“Thefigures don’t lie,Connor.”Jorgeleans back in his chair, even more confident now that his two secret weapons are on the screen. “Thedrops in sales coincide with those…Whatshall we call them?”Hewaves his hand around. “Antics.”
“LikeIsaid,”Ingridchips in, “it’s not very becoming.”
“Yup.”Jorgeclicks his pen again. “Yourwholesome, squeaky-clean toy company called.Andit wants its image back.”
Hisself-satisfied smirk says he’s been working on that line for a while.
I’mdesperate to tell him what a pathetic, superior asshat he is.ButMaxandWalkerare watching, soIclench my jaw. “Thisisn’t my fault.Youcan’t blame me.”
Jorgestands up. “We’vehad enough,Connor.”
Iblow out a big puff of air. “Oh,Ican promise you, no one in this room has had enough of this more than me.”
Hefaces me along the length of the table, like we’re two toy tycoons about to fight a duel withNerfguns.
“We’reprepared to vote you off, you know.”Hissmirk could not be more arrogant.
Whatthe hell?Isthis a boardroom coup?Didthis bunch of disloyal bastards plan this?
Ican’t decide ifIshould be hurt and enraged or ifIshould just walk out, leave them to it, and not give a shit.
Thelatter is pretty tempting.BeingaCEOthese last few years hasn’t exactly been the most funI’veever had.But, hellfire, it’s my fucking business, and they don’t get to kick me out of it.
“You’dvote me off?Offthe board of my own company?”Ijab my finger into my chest so hard it hurts. “ThatIstarted?Fromscratch?”
Ingridnods.
Everyoneelse fiddles with the remainders of their breakfasts…thatIpaid for.
Let’ssee what these shitheads are made of. “Okay, let’s do this now.Let’svote right now.Handsup, who votes me off?I’llgo first.”Iraise my own hand.
