Chapter 16
“Really, Nathan, I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that you ignored this request.”
“I am so sorry about that, I wanted time to review what you were asking and it–”
“I need you to be better than excuses. Do you understand you’ve delayed this work by over a week now?”
Needless to say, the morning wasn’t going well.
Maybe it was Connor’s fault. He’d become too lax, too comfortable with arriving close to 6 AM.
That cost him nearly an hour of the usual preparation time he’d come to depend on throughout his career.
That meant working at a breakneck pace right up until Nate came in around 7, trying to get a handle on his meetings, emails, requests from other departments, forewarnings about Berkshire–
And this one had slipped right through the cracks.
“And what's this I’m hearing about you being late to the Barnum negotiations last week?”
“We–we gave them a ten minute set-up period because–”
“The message you’re sending is that you are not punctual, Nathan, and if you can’t be depended on to arrive on time, then Alarie is shown to be unreliable.”
“I understand, I’m so sorry, sir.”
Connor still wasn’t sure who exactly had dropped the ball here–had he missed an email from Berkshire, or had Nate ignored one of his calls?
Hard to tell, but the trouble seemed easy enough to resolve.
Another series of disclosures based on retention plans Berkshire wanted Nate to sign–but somehow missed.
And Berkshire had no intention of missing an opportunity to dress Nate down, to bring him down a peg or two just so he could lord his authority over him.
It was a pattern Connor had started to notice, but hadn’t yet brought up to Nate. What good would it do?
What good indeed.
There was always the possibility that this truly had been Nate’s blunder, that he’d set those disclosures down amidst the stacks of forms and notes on his desk and forgotten they existed. He could do that sometimes. When something was out of sight, it was well and truly out of mind for him.
But there was also the possibility that Connor had pumped the breaks, said something to discourage Nate from signing those forms without giving them a proper readthrough–and then the aforementioned might have happened.
At the end of the day, it didn't matter what had happened, who was at fault. His fault. Nate’s. Berkshire seizing on the opportunity for confusion to gaslight his son.
What mattered was Nate was defenseless, scrambling against Berkshire’s attacks while Connor did what he could in the background to find those forms.
“Do you do this on purpose? To undermine me?”
“What? No–No, I wouldn’t do that–”
“You must realize that this is exactly why I have no interest in introducing you as my son. It would be an embarrassment to have you using my name while you disappoint our clients.”
The silence that followed from Nate was as clear a sign as any that Berkshire’s words had finally struck his desired target.
All the while, Connor had never felt more helpless, squeezed between the doorway to Nate’s office and Berkshire’s back, trying to help as much as he could–which wasn’t much at all.
Balancing his laptop in one hand, the other on his trackpad, trying to find emails for Nate, documentation, things he could point to later and say, “Your dad got it wrong.”
Later.
But not now.
Now, he swallowed around a tight throat, sucked in a breath with ribs that ached from the effort, starting to feel the first zaps of what would surely be a painful migraine.
“And that’s not to mention my repeated issues with your department personnel, Nathan. From where the board is sitting, you don’t seem fit to run this department.”
Connor’s head whipped up so quickly he almost cricked his neck, catching Nate’s eyes over Berkshire’s shoulder, color drained from his warm face.
But Berkshire didn’t let up.
“I’ve done what I can to shield you, Nathan, but even my patience is running thin.
I’ve asked for retention metrics, I’ve asked for updates on your collaboration with our business development strategist, and what I’m seeing is disappointing.
And if what I’m seeing is disappointing, what do you think the board is seeing? ”
He sucked in his teeth, a popping sound that even made Connor flinch. And like a horror film come to life, Berkshire whipped around at him, his face dark with fury.
“Hayes,” he snapped. “Seeing as your principal did not have this report on hand, you are to retrieve it from the business development team. Now.”
Connor reacted as though he’d been struck with a whip, snapping to attention, laptop closed and abandoned on his desk as he high-tailed it out of Nate’s office, feet moving as quickly as he could manage along the gray carpet.
Get the report. Find business development. Get the report.
If he was lucky, that would be enough to assuage Berkshire’s sour mood. Then he could handle the work of trying to repair Nate’s confidence. Maybe reschedule some of his afternoon meetings. They could run through pointers together, and then…
And then they’d talk strategy, how to make sure this never happened again.
He opted for the stairs rather than the elevator, jogging down one floor so he could save a few minutes.
The assistant for the business development director was new, a young woman Connor had never met before, though she was more than cooperative in helping him find the necessary report on their ongoing pursuits.
“Let me know if I can help you with anything else,” she’d said brightly.
Connor only thanked her with a tight smile before turning heel and making a beeline back to the sixth floor. He took the stairs two at a time which left him a little out of breath once he reached Nate’s office.
Perhaps that was why it took him a beat to realize what was happening when he pushed open the heavy wooden door.
Berkshire was still inside, but the tone had shifted while he was gone, the atmosphere considerably lighter. He saw Berkshire’s hand on Nate’s hunched shoulder, the two of them standing over an open laptop–-
Connor’s laptop.
“This is the quality of work you should have been presenting to me from the start, Nathan.”
“No, that’s–what I’m trying to–”
“And it ends right here, I see. You’ll need to finish that up.”
“Look, it’s–”
“It’s what the Board would expect to see from you. It’s what I’ve been expecting for the last four months, Nathan. The department savings alone–”
The door closed behind Connor with a louder slam than he would have normally allowed. Maybe shock loosened his grip on the handle, his limbs heavy, his knees quaking.
That was his laptop.
And even if he couldn’t see what they were looking at, he knew.
He didn’t know what expression he wore, only that Nate was the first to whip around as the door closed, looking like a child who had just been caught snooping.
“Connor–”
Berkshire turned around, his expression twisting into a grimace.
“Hayes. Drop the report on the desk. You’ll be meeting with your principal shortly. Nathan, I expect you to have cleaned house by the end of the day. Send this to my email once you’re finished.”
And Berkshire closed Connor’s laptop with a huff, not sparing either of them another look as he left Nate’s office. Leaving Connor alone, his pulse pounding in his ears as his brain tried to catch up to what just happened.
Nate wasn’t looking at him anymore, just the ground. Like he couldn’t bring himself to look Connor in the eye.
He felt his heart somewhere in his throat, tried to swallow, but he only tasted bile.
“Connor…”
Nate sounded so apologetic, so guilty and helpless. It was too much, too much for him to face.
He was really going to do it.
“Connor, I–”
“Excuse me,” he cut in, somehow finding his voice. And without giving Nate a single second to respond, Connor took his escape.