Page 18 of My Best Friend's Bully

I do. They were fudgy, packed full of chocolate chips, and perfect to come back to after playing all day. They made the whole house smell like chocolate, and Mom always left the mixing bowl out for me so I could scrape the batter and lick it from the rubber spoon she used.

“I’ll probably be late. Go ahead and start without me, I know you won’t miss me. Eat the last brownie, I don’t give a fuck. Invite your little bimbo and make a night of it.” It hurts to call her that after the other night, but Cole doesn’t need to know that. I rinse my mug and put it in the dishwasher as I turn and head out of the kitchen. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

I escape to the shower, feeling Cole’s eyes on my back as I leave. Twenty minutes later I’m dressed and heading out the door with the phone to my ear on a call to the office to let Rebecca know I’m going to run the board meeting from Chicago. Fortunately, the early traffic is light and I make it back to the penthouse by eight, with plenty of time to set up the video conference with Rebecca for our board meeting.

“Good morning, boss,” Rebecca says. “Have you had your coffee? You look like you could use one.”

I flash her a smile. “I did. Thanks for setting up the video conference. You’re amazing, Rebecca.”

“Everyone’s already in the conference room. Good luck, and don’t let them get to you.” She squeezes my arm.

“Never,” I respond.

“Okay. I’m going to patch you into the board room,” Rebecca continues. “Are you all set? Do you have your video conference controller?”

“Yes. I’m good to go. Thanks again, Rebecca.”

The image of the conference room pops up on the video screen in my office, and before I can pan the camera across the room to identify everybody, Fred Allison’s annoying voice pipes in. “There he is. Trouble getting out of bed?” Fred laughs at his own joke. “I guess you missed your flight.” I zoom the camera in on him. God, he reminds me of my father. Same dismissive attitude, same insults disguised as humor.

I know I’m not more than a minute late and they obviously got together early to scheme without me.

“There’s a little thing called exercise I like to do in the morning, Freddy. You might give it a try. Your wife might even consider touching you again.” I mime rubbing a large, round stomach and smirk when his face turns red. “Let’s get right into it today, shall we?”

I click the button on my controller and the agenda pops up onto the screen. I dive in, taking the board members on a tour of the product and its upcoming launch. I pan the camera to watch their body language, and they all seem to be eating it up, jotting down notes in their laptops or, for the older ones, on a notepad.

“We should launch by the end of next week if everything goes as planned,” I announce. There’s a lot that can go wrong during a launch and I’ve learned over the years that it’s better to give an estimated launch date than a firm one. Best to under promise than to disappoint the market.

“We’d like it to launch by Monday,” Fred interrupts. Some of the other board members nod in agreement while the others keep their eyes down on their notes or keep their gaze on the screen, avoiding looking into the camera for fear of making eye contact. “Our customers are eager to get their hands on this and we want to strike while the iron’s hot. You can prod the team a little, can’t you?” Fred continues.

I toggle the button in my hand and the camera zooms in on Fred. “They’re already pushing extremely hard.” I grit my teeth. “They’re loyal, and if you let them, they’ll put their own lives on the line to get the job done. I will not force them into overdrive. Some of them are already working eighty-hour weeks.”

“It’soneweek. They can man up and handle it for one week, and that’s when we want it done,“ Allen, who is sitting next to Freddy, chimes in.

“Not. Happening.” I shrug, lifting my hands up. “I won’t push them like that. The product will be out by the end of next week, barring anything going wrong.”

“So, you care more about your little computer nerds than your board members?” Fred’s brow wrinkles, bringing his shaggy eyebrows down over his eyes like a wrinkly hound dog.

“Yes,” I say. “Theyactually work for a living. You should respect that.”

Fred squirms in his chair, and the uncomfortable silence that follows is better than a double shot of espresso. Before the two buffoons can form another sentence, I push forward. “Now, as you can see, marketing has been highly effective. Preorders exceed those received for the launch of version one and we can expect to see those numbers climb in the upcoming days.”

I pan the camera to Tina, head of the marketing team, who has been sitting silently at the back of the room. “Tina has done a fantastic job with the pre-launch,” I continue. “Show us what you’ve got, Tina,” I encourage her.

She stands up tentatively and I flash a reassuring smile into the camera for her. Tina shuffles to the front of the board room, the nervousness showing in her drooping shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed as she fumbles with the remote to begin her presentation.

“Take your time, Tina. I know that thing can be a little finicky.” She turns to the camera and shoots me a grateful smile.

“Tina will take you on a walkthrough of the sales projections.”

I handover control of the presentation to her and she launches into the sales forecast. Her prior nervousness transforms to confident enthusiasm as she gets going, obviously good at what she does and excited about the product. The pride of what she and her team have accomplished shines through in her presentation, and I make a mental note to give her a congratulatory bonus.

“All right, sweetheart,” Fred interrupts Tina mid-sentence, “now, how would these numbers look if we launched, say… tomorrow?”

Tina’s momentum stalls and she stammers, “T-tomorrow? I don’t think that’s possible, the team isn’t ready yet.”

Fred’s henchman Allen pipes in. “But they would be better, wouldn’t they? The numbers would be higher if we could get it out sooner. If the team pushes a little harder. Or are you so incompetent over there in the marketing department that you don’t even know how timing affects these things?”

“Come on, look at her.” Fred leers, gesturing up and down at Tina’s body. “You can’t expect her to be smart too.”

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