Chapter 5 #3
Fine. He could work with this. He had the conference scheduled into Nate's calendar already, and he had a couple templates they could use for the presentation. All he needed to do was contact Junie for the numbers he needed and he could put something together that looked nice.
The theme was future-focused? Easy. Nate was the future of this department. Connor would just tailor his presentation to Nate’s investor-friendly approach and how it would produce mutually beneficial outcomes.
Spite had always made Connor a better worker, and that was no exception now as he pulled up a blank word document and started typing out the rough outline of what would become Nate’s slide deck.
Nate, on the other hand, seemed to return to his desk in a daze, looking off into space as he loosened his tie. He circled around his desk once before sitting at the edge with a shaky breath.
“He's intense,” Connor commented, his fingers hovering over his keyboard as he watched Nate. He didn’t know why he said that and resumed typing.
No doubt Nate knew what his own father was like quite intimately. Connor, on the other hand, only knew him from their limited interactions which had never been pleasant. That, and the deposition.
Berkshire had only been but one snake in a whole pit of them, with fangs Connor hadn’t thought to fear.
Nate made a sound not unlike a laugh.
“Yeah. He's–yeah.” His voice had gone hoarse, not at all like himself.
Hard for Connor not to notice as he watched Nate, almost out of concern that his principal might work himself up into some kind of breakdown.
Pacing back and forth, Nate fidgeted with his tie a moment, loosening it some more before he seemed to remember himself, stopping. He retied it as neatly as it was when he first came in that morning, though Connor didn’t miss the way his hands trembled.
How strange, seeing Nate Santos at a loss for words.
Stranger still, seeing this man collapsing in on himself like a snowman on a warm day, naked without his usual unearned confidence. Connor didn't know if he should fill the silence, or if he should let Nate process as he needed to.
Is he always like that? He wanted to ask. He must have been a tough father for you to live with.
But Connor knew better. Even if Nate gave him an answer–it wasn’t any of his business.
“Don’t let him bully you into signing off approvals without reviewing them,” Connor said with a sigh. Nate gave him a quizzical look, but he didn’t break. “Do what you want, but it’ll be your head.”
It probably wasn’t the best thing for him to say. Nate’s expression darkened as he paused in front of Connor’s desk a moment, seeming to look past him, out through the window at the rolling green hills of Irvine.
“Yeah,” Nate said, but it didn’t seem like Connor’s words really registered. “Uh. That conference he mentioned, he wants me talking to investors on the record.”
“That’s what he said.” Connor gave Nate a questioning look that he doesn’t seem to notice, looking somewhere past Connor, wiping his palms against his dark slacks.
“He said, what was it, “certain parties” were going to be interested in what we- in what I’m saying. Who are those parties?” Nate ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his tangled curls. Connor decided it wouldn’t be helpful to comment on his appearance.
“At minimum, our investors’ legal teams. Worst case? The SEC. Maybe anyone else who wants to question you on the record.”
And Connor caught himself, realizing that might have sounded too harsh, so he tried for some reassurance.
“Look, it's not unusual in the wake of buy-out rumors. They’re looking to recoup any losses from stock prices dropping, which they usually do during high-level personnel changes.”
Connor glanced up from his laptop screen to find Nate ashen-faced, staring dead-eyed at the bookshelf that split their office suit, worrying at the knot of his tie.
“So, they’re looking for a scapegoat,” he said hollowly.
Okay, so maybe he wasn't doing the best job at offering reassurance here. It was hard to feel entirely positive about the way Berkshire had been speaking to his own son, let alone the way he had talked about Connor.
Damn assistant, like he was a dog who shit on the rug.
No doubt that Nate heard worse from him, the way his normally talkative, always-looking-on-the-bright-side principal all but deflated like a child’s birthday balloon from a few harsh words.
Hard not to feel bad for the guy, but Connor knew to snip that feeling right where it started and prune it to the root.
“Hey, it's not anything you haven't done before,” he said flatly. “You got an MBA, you can do this.”
Nate didn't respond–maybe he didn't know how to. And for once, Connor was the one who found himself unable to stop talking.
“I’ll make the slide deck, we’ll rehearse, you'll do what you always do,” he added, trying to sound positive.
Somehow, it worked.
Somehow, it brought some sense back to Nate, the color returning to his face as he gave Connor a curious look.
“What exactly do I always do?”
“You know. Charm them.” Connor’s lip curled as he said it, and he looked back down at his laptop. “Make them like you. And then say exactly what they want to hear but promise nothing specific.”
“I don’t think there’s any way of charming the SEC,” Nate said darkly.
“You’d be surprised. Do what we’ve practiced. You deflect, you give non-answers. We’ll have plenty of PR lines for you.”
Nate looked unconvinced, and Connor sighed as he closed his laptop.
“Look. We have two weeks, and I’m not going to let you fail. You're going to get through this.”
“You think I’m capable of not landing us in some legal trouble?” Nate asked. He was trying for wry. Connor could tell that much, but he looked entirely unconvinced.
And for a moment, Connor felt a flicker of irritation.
Did he have to do everything for Nate–including coaching him through his own anxiety?
“I think principals with far less of a moral backbone have performed just fine under these same conditions. You’re not lying to anyone about anything. You’re not covering up a sex scandal, or deflecting accusations of embezzlement.”
He opened his laptop again, keying in his pin before pulling open his templates folder.
Lucky for them both. He had dozens of these ready to go at any time, furiously scrolling through files until he found something he liked. Easier than having to look at Nate.
Fuck, it was like getting tangled up in someone else’s anchor line. His incompetence would drown them both unless Connor managed to get control of the situation.
“No. Right. Yeah. You’re not kidding.” Nate rubbed at his jaw for a moment before standing, fixing his shirt, his tie, his suit jacket. Not robotically, but rather like a child who’d fallen down and was trying to put himself back together before getting back on his bike.
Connor resisted the urge to roll his eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Slide decks came easily to him. He was typically able to turn them out without too much delay, and that was what they needed.
The sooner their graphics and visuals were approved, the sooner Connor could focus on coaching Nate.
Somehow, he needed to keep Nate from saying something that would have them both under the eye of the SEC.
Good luck doing that with the guy who can’t navigate deflection, he found himself thinking bitterly.