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“It has to do with the fact that I can’t save this company any more than I can save my own job,” I tell her. “They’re going to take it from me one way or another. At least this way, I get a chance to soften the blow a little.”
“You’re Saint Freaking Nikolai,” she says, “but this deal screws you.”
“Hey, I’ll still be a millionaire,” I tell her. “Maybe I’ll open the feed from ‘Seriously, They’re Letting Me Name My Own Satellite’—obviously a terrible mistake, granted—to the public. Sure, not everyone has digital floors, but I bet it would make a nice screensaver.”
“You know,” she says, “if you’re experiencing delusions, we can probably turn this whole thing around with the sympathy investment.”
I smile and chuckle. I even put my arm around Marly, who’s been such a good evil confidant over so many years. “There really isn’t a bottom for you, is there?” I ask.
“I just calls ‘em as I sees ‘em,” she says, cracking a smile. “You really want to do this?” she asks. “After this, you won’t have any sway over what the board or the next CEO does. You can probably lobby them, but they’re going to do what they’re going to do.”
“Without this deal, the people who helped build this company and keep it going get nothing,” I tell her. “I’m going to be rich the rest of my life. This is the least I can do.”
“Do you really want firing me to be your last act as CEO before you sign this thing?” she asks, her voice softening to a tone I’ve never heard before.
“I’ll hire you back, but I’m going to need a drink after this,” I tell her. “Have one waiting for me in my office when I get done.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she says and, though hesitant, she hands me the paperwork. “Do you want something easy to help you relax or do you want them carrying you out of here with your head in a bucket while you yell incoherently about the government?”
I cock my head at her.
“Mom was a drinker,” she says.
“I’d like to be able to walk, but apart from that, I say go crazy,” I answer.
Marly smiles and we part ways, possibly for the last time. We have a lot of history, but she’s not the type to call to grab a drink. She’s been with me and the company almost from the start and I don’t even know if she lives in the city or if she commutes.
This is a difficult decision, but I knew there was a possibility I’d have to make it eventually. I was just hoping that Jacque might actually deign to answer the door or the phone or call back for once in his life. He meant what he said, though. When he was done, he was done.
I walk into the board room and I have Mason Handler witness as I sign my portions of the document. From there, I slide it over to him and tell the board, “I’ll need the rest of the day to clear out my office.”
The sadists actually applaud as I leave the room.
When Marly asked if I was doing this because of Grace, I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell the whole truth, either. I’m not sure what the future holds for Grace and me, but I do know if I’m ever going to find that sweet person again, I have to be done.
It’s true that the company’s going under if I stay in as CEO: The board and their proxies did a great job painting me as the culprit. I got the least that I wanted out of the deal, but at least it’s something. They never would have agreed if I’d pushed too hard to select my own replacement.
The truth is, though, this whole life I built, I built around her. I’ve come to appreciate and respect my people, but there’s no need for me to fight it. It probably wouldn’t change anything anyway.
I get in front of my office and Nolan stands, saying, “Sir, I just want to tell you, I heard what you did, and I wanted to thank you.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Hey, I’m going to be taking care of some final things in my office for a little while. Would you hold my calls and just make sure I’m not disturbed?”
“Of course, sir,” he says. “Sir, do you know what you’ll be doing after this?”
I chuckle. “I’ll probably live out my days watching CNBC and raving about how once, way back in the day, I used to run things,” I answer. “I think I’m done with the corporate world,” I tell him.
“One more thing,” he says as I’m opening the door to my office. “There’s someone in your office.”
I’m expecting Marly, either still fixing my drink or working on one of her own, but it’s not her.
Grace’s sitting in my office chair, holding an overfilled tumbler of scotch, sipping just enough off the top that it doesn’t spill.
“Grace,” I say, “What are you doing here?”
“Naomi told me,” she answers, smiling. “She told me about the ring.”
CHAPTER21