She was his—only his.
* * * * *
The door clicked shut behind Gregory. Charlize sank her face into her palms. There wasn’t time for this, the exec meeting was minutes away and she had to get herself together. She breathed deeply. No thinking about Connor. No thinking about his cocky smile, the hot, hard touch of his hand between her legs… She flipped open the file and gazed down at the paperwork—paper. She lifted out the solitary white sheet with its paragraph of figures and simple bar graph.
Damn it all.
One page. One freaking page and not what she’d requested. Gregory had provided her with the same information she’d been given before. Overall salary analysis—no breakdowns. Her chest constricted, hampering air to her lungs. Her eyes stung with new tears. She would not cry. Would not cry at work. This is what they wanted—to see her break.
Frank and Gregory and their bunch of boys who thought she had no business leading them. They wanted her to back down and if not, they’d take her down by making her look useless.
They’d soon see she wouldn’t go down so easily.
* * * * *
Charlize leaned against the high-backed chair at the head of the conference table and watched the scene. It was kind of like watching monkeys fling poop across a boardroom. Fifteen suited-up executives crammed around the table, all talking over one another. She’d realized after the third consecutive interruption this meeting was simply a meticulously choreographed murder of her credibility. She’d never had the chance to prove anything. Not even banging her shoe on the table could capture the room’s occupants’ attention. She looked powerless.
Incompetent. An impotent leader.
Instead of fighting a losing battle, she’d sat back and watched. Who yelled the loudest, who was deliberately contentious, who was in on Frank’s game.
Neville, the director of manufacturing operations, leaped from his chair and leveled his finger at Gregory. “How can we achieve anything when our budgets have been slashed? I can barely afford to—”
“And my team is massively understaffed,” Sales Director Darren shouted.
Beside her, Frank rose, fastening a shiny button at the waist of his impeccable black jacket. Charlize sucked the inside of her cheek. She’d been waiting for him to make his move.
Frank raised his hands, his diamond cuff links flashed. “Everybody please, this is not getting anywhere,” he said, voice firm but not elevated.
Even the loudest of the voices quieted immediately.
What a surprise.
Frank bowed his head toward the desk then looked back up and pressed his fingertips together. “If I could have everyone’s attention for a moment. I have a solution that could pull Halifax back from the brink.”
The murmurs died off and everyone in the room directed their attention toward Frank’s distinguished figure.
“For the past months I have been investigating strategies to stem the massive losses Halifax is facing each month and finally I have hit on the solution.” He picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The projection screen at the rear of the room lit up. “WHM is a premier offshore manufacturing company and I have a negotiated contract to produce Halifax’s current hardware components at one fifth of our current production cost.”
Sneaking backstabber.
Charlize’s stomach sank into a bitter pit of bile. She swallowed. Not only had he done this behind her back, his words were a jab at her—implying he was doing what she hadn’t—but worst of all his actions brought them one step closer to losing the last of Halifax’s soul. More of her uncle’s tactics. If in doubt, sell it or get it done offshore. Never mind none of these tactics had worked, never mind that sales were dropping, never mind their brand had all but disintegrated.
Frank continued, flicking graphs across the screen. “This would immediately up profits and slash costs dramatically.” He clicked to a new slide. “Here you see Halifax would be out of debt and back in the black in twenty-four months.”
Charlize studied the graph on the screen, which was decisively vague as to how those estimates were calculated. Frank clicked again and the bile in her stomach started to boil.
Assholes!
He’d used the very reports she’d asked for—the reports they’d withheld from her but that he now used to articulate his point.
“Unfortunately this manufacturer is in high demand and we must seize the opportunity before our competitors do. All they require is the approval of our CEO and we can begin planning immediately for a stronger Halifax Enterprises.”
Frank turned to Charlize. He did nothing more than look at her but she saw the triumph in the smug arch of his forehead as clearly as if he’d leaned over and whispered “checkmate” in her ear. She curled and uncurled her fingers.