Chapter 6
Liam
Addison Archer is a problem I can’t solve. She drives me crazy, but even after a week, she is proving to be an asset.
I review the third-quarter communications plan early Monday morning, and it’s good. So good, in fact, that I’m not making any changes.
And I let her present it at the Monday meeting to the entire leadership team.
I watch her command the room. Every question gets answered before it’s asked.
And the team is impressed. Mostly.
Halfway through her presentation, our director of new client acquisitions, Daniel Cane, interrupts. He’s been with Palmer Capital for twenty years, since my father ran the business. He’s never respected anyone who didn’t climb the same ladder he did.
“This is aggressive,” Daniel cuts in. “We’ve never positioned ourselves this publicly on ethical oversight.”
Instead of giving my opinion to Daniel, I sit back and wait for Addison to respond. I want to see how she handles Daniel.
Addison stops mid-sentence and turns to him. “Your company lost millions because of an oversight. So, to win back your investors’ trust, we are making some aggressive moves.”
Daniel’s jaw sets. “I’ve been managing investor relations for the last two decades.”
He doesn’t even look at her when he says it.
But Addison’s eyes are fixed on him. “And two decades of the same approach lost your company $250 million, because you were tied to a company with unethical practices.” Addison’s tone stays level.
“If you want to lead, we need to make some changes. So, if you’re finished, and I hope that you are, let’s move on. ”
The meeting attendees make eye contact with one another, but nobody says anything.
Daniel’s face reddens. He glances at me, expecting intervention.
I stay quiet.
She’s right. But she just humiliated a senior executive in front of the entire leadership team, a part of me wants to shut it down and remind her who holds authority here.
The other part recognizes strategy when I see it, and fuck, I love watching her command respect.
Addison continues her presentation. Daniel doesn’t interrupt again.
On Thursday afternoon, we’re hosting the Whitney Group in our main conference room. They’re a potential hundred-million-dollar investment if this meeting goes well.
Addison presents the new ethical oversight plan, and Daniel scoffs loud enough for everyone to hear. He does it again a few minutes later.
She doesn’t acknowledge him. She keeps presenting, walking the Whitney executives through the independent audit timeline without breaking stride.
Then Daniel interrupts. “I think what Ms. Archer is trying to say—” He puts emphasis on her name like it’s a joke. “—is that we’re making changes. Whether those changes are necessary is another question.”
The room shifts. Paula Whitney, their CEO, glances between Daniel and Addison.
Addison’s expression stays neutral. “The changes are necessary. The data support that.”
“The data.” Daniel laughs. “You’ve been here, what, two weeks? And suddenly you’re the expert on what Palmer Capital needs?”
“I’m the expert the Palmer brothers hired.”
Daniel shifts forward. “It seems to me like they hired a little girl who is trying to play CEO.”
The words land like a grenade.
Paula Whitney’s face goes flat. Two of her executives exchange glances. Nolan, seated to my right, stops breathing.
Addison doesn’t flinch. But I see her fingers tighten on the edge of her tablet.
I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve moved. “Daniel.” I don’t raise my voice, but my tone leaves no doubt that Daniel just overstepped. “Let’s step outside.”
He blinks. “But, Liam, we’re in the middle of a meeting.”
“Now.”
I don’t wait for him to follow. I walk out, and every eye in that room is watching my reaction.
Daniel follows me into the hallway. The conference room door clicks shut behind us.
“Liam, she’s been undermining me since she got here. Someone had to put her in her place.”
“You just called her a little girl in front of a client that could bring in $100 million. What in the fuck were you thinking?”
“I was making a point,” Daniel counters.
“You are making yourself look like an asshole. And you just embarrassed our entire company.” I keep my voice low. Controlled. The anger underneath it is anything but. “Twenty years, Daniel. Twenty years, and this is how you handle a bruised ego?”
His face hardens. “She humiliated me in the Monday strategy meeting. She was out of line.”
I take one breath. “She responded to you when you undermined her.”
He steps closer. “Why are you giving her so much power? She’s a consultant. Temporary. And you’re letting her run this company as if she owns it.”
“No. I am not letting her run our company.” I will not let Daniel forget who is in charge. “I agree with her approach to help brand Palmer Capital as ethical investors. I don’t agree with you making us look incompetent in front of potential clients.”
“She’s a liability and a distraction.” His voice drops. “And if you can’t see that because you’re too busy staring at her ass, then maybe you’re the problem.”
I don’t say a word. And instead, I watch him realize what he’s said.
Daniel goes pale, and then he swallows. Hard.
When he doesn’t respond, I break the silence. “You’re done.”
Daniel’s mouth opens in shock. “What?”
“Effective immediately.” I am not backing down. I don’t care that he has been with our company for twenty years. “HR will send the paperwork.”
“You’re firing me?” Disbelief floods his voice. “Over her?”
“I’m firing you because of your behavior in front of a major client, and then you accused me of making decisions with my dick. That’s not the kind of company I run.”
“Your father would never—”
“My father isn’t here.” I step past him. “Security will escort you out.”
I walk back into the conference room. Every face turns toward me.
“I apologize for the interruption.” I take my seat. “Daniel Cane is no longer with Palmer Capital. Ms. Archer, please continue.”
Addison holds my gaze for half a second with a shocked expression. Then she turns back to the Whitney executives and picks up exactly where she left off.
The Whitney Group signs before they leave the building.
Paula Whitney shakes my hand in the lobby. “I appreciate how you handled that situation, Liam. It tells me a lot about the kind of company you’re building.”
I nod and say all the right things before they leave the office.
Addison is gone by the time I get back upstairs, which surprises me, but she deserves some time to herself.
I spend the rest of the afternoon in meetings, explaining Daniel’s departure to the board, fielding questions from department heads, and managing the fallout of firing a twenty-year employee in the middle of a client presentation.
By eight o’clock, the building is empty, but I’m still at my desk.
There is a knock at my door, and I glance up.
Addison stands in the doorway. She’s changed out of her business attire, and she’s wearing dark jeans and a sweater. Her hair is down, and she is carrying a paper bag and two takeout containers.
“You’re still here,” she says.
I nod. “I thought you left.”
“I went home to get some work done for a little bit.”
She walks in without invitation and sets the bag on my desk. “I hope you like Thai food. It’s from the place on Seventh.”
I stare at the containers, then at her.
“You brought me dinner.”
“I’ve seen you working late a lot without dinner. I figured today wouldn’t be any different.” She pulls out chopsticks and napkins. “I haven’t eaten either. And eating alone is depressing.”
She doesn’t mention Daniel. She just opens one of the food containers and slides it toward me like this is something we do.
I should ask why she’s here. I should remind her that we’re not friends.
But this feels… nice.
Peace offering or not, I’m accepting it.
I take the chopsticks and open one of the containers. “Green curry?”
“Yep! It’s good. Trust me.” She settles into the chair across from me. “And I also got Pad Thai.”
We eat for a few minutes without speaking. The curry is delicious, with a lot of spice, just the way I like it.
“Daniel was an ass,” she says finally.
“He was.”
“You didn’t have to fire him.” She eats a bite of the Pad Thai.
“Yes, I did.” I meet her eyes. “What he said was unacceptable. Nobody should talk to you that way.”
She sets down her chopsticks and looks at me for a long moment. “You fired him because of what he said about the company,” she says. “Not because of what he said to me.”
“Maybe it was both.”
She holds my gaze. “Maybe.”
The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, and she’s not rushing to fill it.
“The Whitney Group signed,” I say.
“I heard.” A smile tugs at her mouth. “Paula Whitney sent me an email and said she was impressed with the presentation.”
“She should be,” I agree. “It was good.”
Addison pauses with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. She blinks slowly, and her lips turn upward, even though it’s barely perceptible. “Was that a compliment?”
“An observation,” I correct, but I’m smiling, too.
“From you, that’s the same thing.” She takes the bite. Chews. Swallows. “You’re not as terrible as I thought you’d be.”
“High praise.”
“It’s accurate.” She sets down her chopsticks and then wipes her hands with a napkin. “I expected you to side with Daniel and protect your inner circle.”
“You expected wrong.”
“I did,” she agrees. “Why did you fire him, instead of just reprimanding him?”
The question catches me off guard.
I push the empty curry container aside. “Because a reprimand suggests there’s a version of that behavior I’d tolerate. There isn’t.”
“Even when it costs you a twenty-year employee?”
“Especially then,” I respond. “Firing him made a statement. We can’t position ourselves as ethical investors while keeping people who aren’t.”
Addison is quiet for a moment. Processing. “You’re harder to hate than I expected.” She stands and gathers the empty containers. “I should go. Early morning tomorrow.”
I stand with her. “Addison.”
She pauses.
“Thank you. For dinner.”
“Don’t get used to it.” She smirks and stops at the threshold. “Also, maybe don’t skip meals. It makes you irritable.”
“I’m always irritable.”
“I noticed.” Then her smirk evolves into a laugh.
I forget what I was about to say.
“Goodnight, Liam.”
She’s gone before I can respond.
I stand alone in my office, the taste of green curry still on my tongue. And I realize something uncomfortable.
Addison Archer isn’t a problem I need to solve.
She’s someone I’m not done figuring out.