Chapter Three
VIVI
I woke up the next morning to a memo email from the board with the subject line:
EMERGENCY MEETING at ten o’clock today
As if this weekend couldn't get worse, the board wants to meet about the runaway bride situation.
Although this is the last thing I want to do, it beats hanging out around Isla’s while she continues to ask me questions that I don’t know how to answer.
No clarity came to me after barely sleeping last night in her spare bedroom.
I head inside the office and slide my card into the door of the elevator to head up to the eleventh floor when I receive an indicator light I’ve never seen before.
I stare at the red light on the security panel, the same panel I've used every morning for the past eight years. The same company on the eleventh floor that I built from the ground up, turning a college nanny service into a multi-million dollar staffing empire.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Newport." Tyler, our head of security, a man I hired years ago, appears beside me. His usual warm smile is replaced with a forced one, professional and distant almost. "I'll need to escort you up."
"What do you mean ‘escort me up'? Are we having technical issues with our card system today?" I ask.
Everything seemed to be working fine last week when I was here, but technical issues happen. It's part of working in a technological world, I suppose.
"It's just what I was told by Martin Howard. He should clear it all up in the board meeting."
"Martin Howard? You mean the interim CEO who's standing in for me while I take my—"
I was just about to say “honeymoon” when the realization hits me.
I'm not taking that honeymoon. I would have been there this morning.
Waking up on the beaches of Greece with Jameson and the penthouse honeymoon suite that was booked for us by the Holiday's personal travel agent.
But instead, I'm here on a drizzly Seattle Sunday for an emergency meeting with the board over me running away from my own wedding.
Fair enough. I'm sure they want to discuss how we will handle this in the press, and I have some ideas. First things first, we won't be needing Martin Howard in my CEO position.
"Right. He said that he will answer any questions you have. He just told me to meet you down here, Ms. Newport."
"You can call me Vivi," I remind him, for the hundredth time over the course of his six years here as our head of security.
He just smiles back at me. He won't use my first name, but I'm just as stubborn and will keep trying.
We ride the elevator up to the eleventh floor, the light over the door illuminating quickly with each level we pass.
"I don't mean to speak out of turn, Ms. Newport, but if it's any consolation, I think what they are doing is wrong," he says.
My eyebrows furrow. What an odd thing to say.
The elevator dings, and the doors open just as he finishes. "What do you mean, you think what they are doing is wrong?" I ask as I step off the elevator and onto the eleventh floor.
I look to my left where Tyler would be standing if he had gotten off the elevator with me, but he's not there. When I turn back, I see the doors closing again with Tyler inside.
"Good luck," he says with a thumbs up.
Wait…what the hell did he mean by that?
I walk into the office and our front receptionist, Virginia, smiles at me, but it's not her usual smile. It's almost as if it's a consoling smile. Like I just buried a beloved family pet.
"Vivi, you're here. Thank God. I've been calling and texting you but your phone won't let me leave you a message. I tried your house phone, too, but I couldn't get through," she says, racing around the reception desk.
"My cell's been … occupied." With hundreds of missed calls and texts from reporters, wedding guests, and most persistently, Genevieve Holiday. "And I spent the weekend at Isla's. Why, what's wrong?" I ask, not liking the deep frown across her face.
"They've been here since eight," Virginia says, falling into step beside me, voice low.
"Who? The board?" I ask, but I already know they are coming in.
"Yes, but also… Mrs. Holiday arrived with them."
"Of course she did," I say, because this day couldn't get worse. "No problem. Might as well get this over with."
"That's not all. The Holiday Industries board of directors are also here," I stop dead in my tracks, and she almost crashes into the back of me.
"All of them?" I ask.
She nods first, "Yes. All of them."
"Is Jameson here too?"
"No…haven't you heard?" she asks, her eyebrows scrunching together.
"Heard what?" I ask, unsure of where Jameson could be that it would be a shock I don’t know.
"He's in Greece with…" She bites her lower lip as if she’s scared I’m going to kill the messenger.
"With whom, Virginia?"
"With the wedding planner,” she says in almost a whisper.
For a second, I swear I must have blacked out and heard her say “the wedding planner.”
As in Natasha?
The same woman who can barely stand Jameson, who would physically cringe anytime he showed up for wedding planning.
I’d spent months running interference for her—shielding her from the full force of Holiday family madness whenever I could—because I knew she had her own reasons for avoiding him.
He’d been more than an ass, shooting down her questions about flowers or music with that dismissive, clipped tone of his.
So the idea that she would go anywhere with him—willingly—doesn’t even compute.
"He left on our honeymoon with the wedding planner? You're sure?"
She nods vigorously. "I heard Genevieve practically yelling on her phone leaving what sounded like a less-than-happy voicemail for him, demanding that he return to the states and that if he attempts to use the paparazzi to get shots of him and the wedding planner canoodling on the beaches somewhere to ruin elopement wedding plans, she won’t fight against the trust board to have him disinherited. "
"Oh God…" I say, not meaning to say it out loud.
"Also, you should know that your key card didn't stop working—your office code has been changed," Virginia whispers. "I'm sorry, I couldn't—"
"It's fine." I cut her off, though nothing about this is fine. "I'll fix it all now that I'm back. Just…hold my calls while I figure this out."
I don’t like how worried she looks. As if she knows more than she’s letting on.
"The board is ready for you in conference room number three," she tells me.
I nod.
"I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. You've been the best boss I've ever had, and I wanted to take a moment to say that," she says as she reaches around me and hugs me.
I'm taken off guard. Virginia has been with me for the last three years. I trained her having zero experience, and I was right to go with my instincts about her. She was worth the time spent training her. She's been a big asset to the team…but we've never hugged before.
This is new.
She finally releases me, and I smile at her. "Thank you for telling me. I do think we should discuss you moving into a bigger role in the future. I think you're ready for more responsibility. Let's discuss that next week, okay?"
She just stares back at me, tears beginning to well in her eyes as I start to walk down the hall toward conference room three. I’m absolutely confused by her reaction regarding her future promotion as I watch her over my shoulder.
What was that about?
I pause outside the conference room, squaring my shoulders, and take a breath through my nose and out through my mouth before turning the sleek back door handle.
Through the glass walls, I can see them all—my board of directors mixed with Holiday Industries executives, and at the head of the table sits Genevieve Holiday herself, perfect in Chanel and pearls, not a hair out of place.
The room falls silent as I enter. Twelve pairs of eyes track my progress to the only empty chair—directly opposite Genevieve Holiday.
"Vivi." Richard Styles, head of my board, breaks the silence. "Thank you for joining us."
As if I had a choice.
"Given recent events," he continues, shuffling papers, and stands as if to address the entire room. He’s tall and thin with jet black hair that’s now starting to grey on the sides but he has a presence about him that demands a room take notice.
"The board has made some temporary adjustments to company leadership. "
"Temporary adjustments?" I repeat.
Martin Howard, the current interim CEO, jumps in.
The polar opposite of Richard. Shorter, with more weight and dirty blonde hair where he isn’t beginning to bald.
"You were scheduled for a sixty-day absence during your honeymoon.
The board feels it's best to maintain that timeline while we… resolve the current situation."
I never did like Martin, but he came with an impressive resume for the CFO position.
The current situation—that's what we're calling my runaway bride moment?
"I'm still capable of running my company," I say, keeping my voice steady, on the verge of reminding Martin that we didn’t make him take leave when his wife left him for his cousin last Christmas.
"The IPO preparations are complete for going public, the Q3 projections—"
"Are excellent," Richard cuts in, his charming smile flashing as he attempts to squash the rising tension. "Which is precisely why we can't risk destabilizing investor confidence with leadership uncertainty."
"Leadership uncertainty?" Heat rises in my cheeks. "I built this company from nothing. I've never missed a target, never in all the years—"
"You missed your own wedding." The words crack like a whip across the table.
Genevieve Holiday's perfectly painted lips curve into what might generously be called a smile.
"Which, need I remind everyone, was a crucial component of the acquisition agreement when Holiday Industries bought the majority shares of Newport Staffing Solutions. "
"An agreement I only accepted because—"