Page 40 of The Betrayer
There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by that I wasn’t grateful those moments were behind me. But Paul didn’t remember any of that, and I was also thankful for that. It also meant he didn’t have a frame of reference for much of my life experience.
Maybe in the intervening years, I had grown a bit soft because the difficult feelings between Paul and myself had thrown me into a freefall I wasn’t sure I had experienced before. Paul and I had never been extremely close, but I had obviously underestimated our relationship’s role in my life for his anger toward me to affect me.
The investor’s comment had also danced through my head all night—what had he meant, exactly? Did the man genuinely think I would do something to seriously jeopardize my company? The guy hadn’t mentioned a thing during our meetings and had been amiable and open to our partnership. Part of me thought it had been a negotiating tactic or even a test, but what did he have to negotiate, and what was he trying to test?
But between Paul and that guy, I figured I had to be at least slightly more careful.
The entire incident felt bad enough that I was determined to make these next two weeks go well—I was going to relearn my company and see what Paul had changed. I was curious, to be honest, but I had never taken the time to have a proper look at what my son had done since taking over as COO.
What had he learned earning his MBA at that fancy Ivy League of his? It had to be decent, knowing how smoothly the company seemed to run.
I felt a newfound excitement as I stepped off the elevator onto the executive floor. I also didn’t miss the heads turning my way or the looks of surprise trailing after me to see me so bright and early.
“Tara.”
The woman had her head bent over a tablet on her desk, tapping with one hand while typing on her computer with the other. It was an impressive sight and must have taken up all her concentration because she jolted when I said her name. Either that or she, too, was startled to see me here so early.
“Mr. Finlay?”
Maybe more of the latter, then.
I jerked my head in the direction of my office. “Come with me for a sec?”
The young woman almost stumbled in her haste to get up from her desk and follow me as I strode down the row of offices to the largest one in the corner. She looked around uncertainly as I leaned back against my desk and crossed my arms.
“So, I’m sure Paul let you know what was happening.”
She nodded.
“To do that, I’m going to have to figure out how this all works now, and I’m going to need your help to figure it all out. Can you do that?”
Tara looked less uncertain now and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Finlay. I’d be happy to do that for you.”
What followed was a procession of the executive team to give me rundowns of the state of things, from financials to marketing to processes, while Tara translated what I didn’t understand. I quickly saw that it was awe-inspiring what my son had done to the back end of our company. He’d done it in an incredibly short amount of time. Everything Paul had said about his role here and what he had done to boost the company made more sense—it was all true. I would never have been able to design anything half as good.
Several hours later, my head spun with everything I had tried to pack into my head all morning. I had to get out of the office and let it settle before doing anything else.
The day was warm, and I was glad I had left my coat in my office as I headed out for lunch and a walk to clear my head. I rolled up my sleeves, glad to feel the sun and warmth.
As I headed down the sidewalk, for the first time in a long time, I had a bounce in my step.
Even though I knew the company was doing well, I’d never taken the chance to truly understand how it ran under Paul’s leadership. I had to admit, the practices Paul had put into place were masterful. Everyone had their position, everyone had their role, and there was a process for everything.
I had run the company well, I had always believed, but never would I have thought to come up with something like this. The company was the European sportscar of businesses, every element running the way it should, every part with the resources it needed.
I knew my kid was smart and good at what he did, but I hadn’t taken the time to realize how talented he was. It was gratifying, and there was indeed an amount of pride included.
Dodging a kid riding down the sidewalk on his skateboard, I rounded a corner to find my favorite coffee shop. At least, in concept, it was my favorite. I was rarely here myself, but I often sent my assistant here for coffee for three reasons: single origin, house-roasted, and some of the best baristas outside of Italy I had found. Their creative take-out wasn’t anything to snub, either.
Conversation, the whir of a coffee grinder, and the high-pitched hissing of the espresso machine greeted me as I pulled open the door, along with the sweetly acidic scent of freshly-ground coffee.
“Hi, how can I help you?” The young woman behind the counter smiled warmly.
“I’ll have an espresso, triple shot, and”—I leaned over to check out the display case full of sandwiches, wraps, pastries, and salads—“one of those. And that.”
I pointed to a boxed salad and a pastry I couldn’t pass up. I knew where they sourced their baked goods, and they were good.
“Sure thing.” The young woman ducked to collect and box the items. When she straightened, she smiled at me again, her gaze lingering slightly longer than it should have. I couldn’t help but return the smile, my trademark grin pulling at one side of my mouth.
