Page 40 of An Angel’s Share (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #1)
“My daughter Aoife has full power to act in my stead.” Patrick stands up at Daddy’s pronouncement, he’s so angry.
But Daddy carries on unperturbed. “As you are aware, she will have controlling shares. I also intend to transfer my shareholding over to her. In fact, we started the process a few weeks ago, and it should be through any day.”
Daddy stands there, an imposing figure despite his age and current health issues. I feel my pride surge forwards. I love him.
My reverie is shattered as Patrick starts to shout, “You can’t. This board has to vote. You, you, you—” He can’t get his words out. “Dad, do something.”
I watch the brothers all look at each other, a silent conversation going on. Then, as one, they all smile. Patrick is too angry to see the beauty in their cohesion. The brotherly solidarity, the genuine love.
A glance across to Jonno reveals he’s not watching the brothers, he's watching all the board members, intently. His face is a mask of concentration.
Dermot starts to talk. “We do not answer to a board, Patrick. We three are the board. And now Aoife, Jonno, and I are the board. Your team votes to support and give feedback and input. But the decision making, as you know, always lies with us—the O’Clery family.”
“Are you signing over your shares to me?” Patrick asks the question that, to be honest, looks like has been eating him up. And everyone in the room is thinking it.
“No, we discussed this. I have two sons. I’ll wait until Conor comes home to make a decision on that front. But to be fair, you’ve been making the decisions for the past five years, Patrick. I’ve been waving them through. My vote is your vote currently, just not legally.”
“We’ll all resign,” he shouts irrationally, his face red with anger. “You will be left with no heads of departments.”
Daddy’s face falls and Marshall turns to address him.
Time to take charge.
I stand and stare at them all as Daddy and my uncles sit back down.
“We may as well get all the hard bits out of the way. There will be some changes to terms and conditions going forward. If you want to resign, that is down to yourselves. If I lay out the terms going forward, then we can have a thirty minute break for people to decide if they are staying or going.”
They’re all glancing at each other. This is not like any board meeting they’ve ever been to before. No golf clubs for starters. No good ol’ boys club either.
“You can’t change terms and conditions as you see fit,” Liam pipes up. His dismissal of me is evident.
“We can, Liam. You need to check your contracts. It’s in all senior manager terms and conditions. We reserve the right to change them if we need to. And believe me, we do.”
“This is ridiculous. You can’t come in here and dictate terms of a company you know nothing about,” the head of HR states. “And I have never been consulted on any changes in terms and conditions. It can’t happen.” He’s adamant and delusional.
“I can and I will. Jonno, does that seem fair to you?” I turn to Jonno, waiting to see if he’s going to back me up.
“Yes, that’s fair,” he agrees, taking his eyes from the wall of suits all sat in shock.
“Okay, so you are all now in the picture and able to make a decision based on the following.” I take them all in. There’s probably one or two maximum that I hope stay.
“All food being provided free gratis by the house will cease from today.” Hardly a ripple on that one.
“Rent at a fair price will be set if you live on the estate, in one of the estate houses.” The noise level notches up at that one.
“You’re free to live outside in the villages if you want to, but O’Clerys will not pay or subsidise you.
” Again a murmur ripples around the room.
“Golf fees will no longer be paid for, nor will any bar bills you run up there.” A collective intake of breath on that one.
Priorities really are all out of whack. “You will be paid for the work time here, and not for second jobs.” The marketing guy has gone pale.
“No travel to Dublin will be paid for.” Patrick is peuse.
And I go for the real cliffhanger ending.
“And all salaries will be sense-checked against the national average for Ireland .”
Patrick is on his feet again. “We’ll have no one left. No one wants to work here. It’s a shithole, with nothing to do,” he shouts maniacally, causing great upset to his dad.
“Not my problem, Patrick. We won’t be employing anyone if we keep going as we are. So these are the choices I’m making.”
“You, you’re making. Not your problem. Who the fuck do you think you are?
” Patrick’s index finger is getting a major workout today, and now it’s wildly pointing in my direction.
“We’re a top company to work for, and our engagement scores put us in the top ten in Europe.
” He’s really proud of that. He’s puffed his chest out.
“Of course it does. Especially if you’re paying vastly over inflated salaries, akin to those you would generally only see in London.
Right along with free housing, free food, and free leisure time paid for.
I’m surprised you weren’t number one in the world.
” My voice rings out, incredulity dripping from it.
“I will not stand for it. I proclaim a vote of no confidence in your leadership, Aoife. How can you make a decision when you’ve only just come back into the country.
You’ve spent years messing around in America.
” He emphasises the messing around, practically pointing to my baby.
“You're also pregnant.” I pull a ‘why does that matter face’ on that one, but he’s not done digging his grave.
“You’re clearly too hormonal to have a balanced view.
Everyone knows pregnant women can’t make decisions. ”
And that’s it.
I slam down my hands onto the wooden table as Daddy jumps and Jonno pulls his eyes off the suit pack.
“Vote away, Patrick,” I seethe. “But just remember, the only votes that actually count are you, me, and Jonno. So go for it, cousin.” My inner dragon has been unleashed, my nostrils flaring at his idiocy.
His mouth is opening and closing like a goldfish and Jonno has gone back to staring at everyone.
Liam's voice drips out over the table, bored and cocksure as he stares at his cuticles. “Don’t bother, Patrick. Aoife will be going on maternity leave soon to have her baby. I will be taking over, so let’s just wait her out.”
What a total dipstick. Talk about disregarding me. Not grasping the magnitude of the situation. Full on narcissistic behaviour. Jonno snorts, his face changing to a full on smirk. He knows a buffoon when he sees one.
Drawing myself up to my full height, I know I look fearsome.
“There will be no transfer of power, Liam. I intend to bring the baby to work. I will have a couple of weeks off, exactly the same as most of you with your three weeks holidays in the summer, and right back at it. Any decisions, I’ll make them. ” My voice rings out true and clear.
“Your mother said you were not going back to work.” Patrick looks stricken. “She said Liam was taking over, she’d arranged it.” He looks at Daddy for confirmation.
“That’s never been discussed and would never have been agreed,” my daddy confirms.
Patrick and Liam look aghast at that news. Clearly Mammy has been making promises she cannot deliver, overstating her authority as usual.
I’ve heard enough. I cull out any further chat.
“Right, half an hour break. I’ll stay in the room next door.
Feel free to come in and ask any questions.
But we will reconvene, and if you’re still here, I expect you to be ready to roll up your sleeves and confirm that you are happy with the new terms and conditions. ”
I look around the room at the shocked faces. I’m not totally sure there will be any of them still there when I get back. I strut out of the room and into the one next door, keeping the door open.
Jonno follows me in, his eyes blazing, scorching me with their intensity. The power emanating from him blows my hair back. I have to try and block it.
“Damn, woman. So fucking amazing.”
As he comes towards me I can feel the energy pulsing from him. My body responds to him, but I can’t show it. He needs to stay away from me .
I hold out my hands in front of me in a defensive stance, struggling to get his name out. “Jonno, no.”
His face falls as he opens his mouth to talk, but my dad, Uncle Marshall, and, interestingly, Uncle Dermot all come in.
“Well, Aoife, I’m putting that down as one of the best opening gambits ever,” Uncle Dermot states. “Wow, I did not see that one coming. Let’s see who really wants to be here now. Well done, niece.” His face is full of pride. They all are.
Dad comes around the desk and hugs me. “I love you, Rua. You have done today what I couldn’t, and to be honest, I knew what needed doing. We all did. We just didn’t want to. I’m proud of you.”
Uncle Marshall, sits calmly down. “It will all work out, Rua. Trust your own judgement. I tell Jonno all the time, you know what needs to be done.” Did they want this to happen?
They all seem really calm. I would have thought they may have gone ballistic.
Daddy shakes Jonno’s hand, obviously happy for him to have backed me up.
The door is open and I see the head of Strategy—yeah, what a made up title that is—and the head of Marketing, all waving their arms around and shouting at Patrick. They leave the floor. Two down. I see another two disappear in a rage, one of which is the head of HR. No loss there.
Suzanne comes tentatively into the room like a frightened rabbit in headlamps. “Can I get anyone drinks?” She tries to smile at us all, but she’s gone from terrified to petrified.