Page 66 of 12 Days

Chapter 26

Sean

A secret that I keep between to myself is that the boardroom and the conference table always look intimidating when it’s just me here.

Not that I mind, though. The emptiness is like a challenge, and sometimes those other eleven guys can almost fill things up too much and make it too easy.

The addition of Alyssa almost feels like things are finally complete, like she’s the missing piece of a puzzle that makes this whole project make sense.

But is it the fragrance that makes me feel this way? If it is, why am I thinking like this?

It’s like she completes the puzzle but then creates a whole other puzzle–unless if I’m just overthinking it.

This is what I need my collaborators for–to figure out enigmas like these.

I always like some time alone in the boardroom before meetings, if I can help it. Except this time, I’m relieved that it’s only a few minutes between calling the meeting and hearing the footfalls of the entire group–I have that sound memorized by now–getting closer.

“At your beck and call as always, my liege.” Owen’s the first to enter, with some mild snark. I don’t know what I’m pulling him away from.

“This is more important,” I fling back.

“Oh, but of course.” Owen takes the seat closest to me, laughing lightly. He’s fine.

The ten remaining board members file in with the usual flood of wingtips clacking on the floor and the soft tones of tailored fabric brushing up against itself. There is a new urgency this time–more rush to pull seats, get settled, and begin paying fucking attention than usual.

“Gentlemen,” I begin, and already there’s a swell of laughter, because nobody expects me to talk like that, “I just want to say that I’m enjoying this new enthusiasm.”

“Is that why you called this meeting?” Owen’s still digging in. This time I laugh and no one else does. Some associates I have.

“Just the first item on the agenda,” I assert, and there’s another round of laughter. “I’m glad you’re all on my side again.”

“We just know that there’s no fucking agenda.” Nico punctuates his obvious statement with a sharp little guffaw.

“Thanks for enlightening us, Nico,” spouts Ethan, picking up the slack for me.

“Now, now, I’m not running into this blind. I think we’re all getting to be somewhere on the same page.”

I’m taken by surprise at how forceful, how serious I sound–not that I have trouble being forceful or serious when I want to be. But at work, even with something as monumental as this fragrance, I try to keep some kind of balanced detachment from it all. I don’t let my emotions get involved.

I sense the air getting sucked out of the room. I’m definitely hitting some kind of nerve, one that rarely affects twelve steely-eyed fucking bosses with more than enough demonstrated toughness to be considered rising stars in the entire fucking industry.

We’re all feeling it, though. I know I am. All of us are sitting in this room, with considerable power between us, unable to have a collective word to say.

“We’re obviously not,” Ty adds, snapping me back into reality, “or else we wouldn’t all be sitting here waiting to hear whatever it is that’s so important.”

“It’s Alyssa.” There are so many levels to those words as I speak them. They sure get everyone’s attention.

“Yeah,” says Tristan, trying to control a quaver of excitement in his voice. “What’s new, though?”

If there is something new, and I think there is, it’s of great interest in this boardroom. I know I’d never be able to get the degree of undivided attention splashed across the eleven other faces at this conference table on my own. I quickly mull over using this rare opportunity to get one or two things off my chest, but I can’t even think of one or two things besides this pressing–potentially evolving–Alyssa situation.

“Everyone at this level,” I begin, delivering my words like it’s the defining speech of my career, “has ulterior motives. Sometimes it’s nothing, but sometimes it can really be something.”

“You’re talking about Alyssa?” Finn is half-asking, half-accusing me of tiptoeing around the point, and he’s right.

“What’s your ulterior motive, then, Sean?” Tate doesn’t even give me half a second to respond to Finn before beginning his own interrogation, although he sounds more amused than solemn like Finn.

“None. I’m referring to Alyssa. To how we’re all getting taken in.”

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