Page 47 of Handling the CEO

Well, fuck, I had hoped that hadn’t reached them.

“We had some documents sent to one of our competitors, yes, but we found the person and she is no longer with the company and we have disabled the means of communication she was using. We are continuing to monitor email traffic and the spot checks on our employees—I am confident that Lex Aviation won’t be getting any more of our suppliers, and none jumped ship in the last months or so. Is that it?”

“Thank you for clarifying Jon,” he corporate-speaks at me, “but can you confirm if the police arrested the person?”

“Unfortunately, we didn’t have any evidence which would stand up in court due to Florida’s two side consent rule, so the videos we had couldn’t be used. We also cut a deal with her so we can get her files and any proof she had against Miranda, which is obviously more important,” I admit, tapping my fingers against the table.

“But aren’t all employees asked to sign a waiver to that law? We must have had cameras on her?” he presses on, clearly on a witch hunt.

“Anya has confirmed she made both me and Michaela sign exceptions for her. Mike can confirm as well.”

“I can’t support that actually, I would’ve never signed anything like that,” she pipes up and the rug is being pulled from under me. Mike said that? Fuck, is it she who called the Board?

“What do you mean, you were there when we caught her? She specifically mentioned she made us both sign!”

“I do not recall having signed anything Jon, I am sorry. If you check the files, it is only a form you endorsed, which is in the folders.” I am stunned—one of the people I relied on the most in the world just threw me to the sharks. If the board wasn’t in the room, I would start screaming at her.

“Apologize for interrupting,” Amelia intervenes, “but did you say ‘Anya’, your executive assistant?”

I do not answer, but I see the mood shift even more, everyone looking extremely shocked, exchanging glances.

“That is worrying news Jon, especially as you hired her personally, direct interview and all that.” Gus is going through some papers on his desk, and it dawns on me the size of the setup I walked right in. They know who the leak was and are ready to crucify me for it. Still, Mike won’t look me in the eye. I won’t bother pointing out it was my VP who brought Anya in for the interview.

“Well, I admit it was a bit of a whirlwind, but let’s all take a breath and consider we caught the person. The company is secure. I just sat with all our suppliers, and everyone is happy if not happier with us now.” I try to get them back to reality.

“Right, the company is secure,” Gus mumbles, and I know this is more than a witch hunt. It is a goddamn execution, and they have more they want to say.

“Jon, you not only hired the EA, but recently you also got an IT firm to work with us, ‘J-AvTech’,” the new board member comments, “owned by Dahlia Jara.”

Where are they going with this?

“I have indeed—the weather predictor will be one of our biggest draws for our planes—you all know those rich people like nothing more than saving money and owning a unique piece of kit.” I move in my seat, surveying the room. Some of them listen to me, but many watch Gus and, even worse, some of my father’s previous friends, including Lemkin, follow my VP, making me clench my fists. “Is there a question in there?”

“Yes, actually. We got this ‘personal relationship at work’ form as well, with your name on it—and hers. A tad worried you are giving your girlfriend millions of dollars. You can see how it looks, Jon,” Gus says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I explode. “She wasn’t my girlfriend then. Also, she created Hove. It’s not like she’s a stripper, but is recognized in the industry, and we are lucky to have her. We only wrote the form to be out in the open. Otherwise, I suspect you’d all be chastising me for not reporting it!”

“She is well known indeed, but so is her husband, right? We saw he works for Lexington. The competition, you admit, has been spying on us. I thought they just presented a similar software?” the old boy presses on.

“Ex-husband. Actually, it was Dahlia who found out how the data was being transmitted, and she absolutely hates him for trying to pass her code as hers. She’s here to make sure he and Miranda are taken down a peg or two.”

“Quite a complicated story you weave, Jon, but we are beginning to think it is you who is out of the loop.” Ms. Ibrahim looks a bit disappointed in me now and starts picking at the papers on the table. “For example, you say Dahlia Jara hates her husband, but then, why was he at her house this morning?”

What? This morning? I just dropped her off. She was supposed to meet her real estate agent.

Amelia picks up a few printed images and walks over to my chair. The click clack of her heels is foreboding, and I don’t even acknowledge what she is wearing as she stops next to me, pulling her a strand of her curly black hair behind her ear. She lays the first photos in front of me and I freeze.

Richard is standing at DJ’s door, leaning in as if he owns the place.

She puts another picture down. This time, he is touching her. He is fucking touching her! I grab the paper to look in detail. His fucking hand is on my woman! I am about to get out of my chair when she adds two more.

First—he is in the house! She let him inside her home?

Second—he is touching her hair!

I am seething, wanting to squash the images and wipe them from my brain. But after the reporter and Miranda, I hope there is more to the pictures. DJ would not do this to me. She would never.

“As you can see, they don’t appear to be at war with each other, more like the opposite,” Gus—the son of a bitch—talks.

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