Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
THERESA
I stood outside the boardroom, clenching and unclenching my sweaty palms. The presentation materials were tucked neatly in my portfolio, the overhead transparencies organized in their folder.
Again and again, I’d gone over all details, perfecting the numbers, confirming with Duncan’s team, preparing for every question Arthur might throw my way.
Inside that room, ten board members were waiting to decide if I’d proven myself worthy of the role I’d already been doing for months. If I’d earned the right to continue my husband’s legacy. If I could be trusted to lead the company.
I can do this. I’ve already done the hard part.
The deal with Duncan MacLeod was real. The technical validation from his engineering team was glowing. The preliminary agreements were solid. All I had to do was walk in there and show them what I’d accomplished.
But my heart still hammered against my ribs.
“Mrs. Carideo?” Lisa appeared at my elbow, her expression sympathetic. “They’re ready for you.”
I nodded, took a deep breath, and straightened my shoulders. The navy-blue suit I’d chosen settled around me, grounding me as I stepped forward.
“Thank you, Lisa.”
The boardroom fell silent as I entered. Ten faces turned toward me—some curious, some skeptical, some openly supportive. And Arthur, at the far end of the table, his expression neutral.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Thank you all for being here today.”
I moved to the head of the table—Marco’s old spot—and set down my materials. The overhead projector was already set up, screen pulled down against the wall.
“Not that long ago, I asked for time to prove I could lead CarideoTech forward,” I began, making eye contact with each board member. “Today, I’m here to show you what I’ve accomplished.”
I placed the first transparency onto the projector. The MacLeod Precision Manufacturing logo appeared on the screen, alongside CarideoTech’s.
“As you know, I’ve been in discussions with Duncan MacLeod, CEO of MacLeod Precision Manufacturing in Scotland, regarding a European licensing partnership for our continuous glucose monitoring technology.”
I switched to the next transparency: preliminary revenue projections based on European market penetration.
“MPM has completed its technical assessment of our system and has confirmed it meets their manufacturing standards. Their engineering team has validated our algorithms and sensor design. And as of yesterday afternoon, their legal team has provided us with preliminary licensing agreements.”
I distributed copies of the agreement summary to the board members.
“The full contracts are still being completed, but the key terms are outlined in your packets.”
Dr. Peter Stifler, our most supportive board member, flipped through the packet, his eyes widening. “These financials are impressive, Theresa. Fifteen million guaranteed over three years?”
“With performance escalators that could push it to twenty-five million,” I confirmed. “And that’s just the beginning. If we hit our market penetration targets, revenue share could double those numbers by year five.”
William Harrington, one of our more conservative investors, looked skeptical. “And MacLeod can deliver on these manufacturing projections?”
“They can. They are the primary medical device supplier for the NHS in the UK, and they hold exclusive contracts with major hospital networks in Germany, France, and Scandinavia. Their Glasgow facility is already certified for Class III medical devices, which means we can avoid the delays of setting up our own European manufacturing.”
For the next thirty minutes, I walked them through every aspect of the deal—technical specifications, regulatory strategy, revenue projections, market analysis. I’d prepared for every question, anticipated every concern. The transparencies were clear, the numbers solid, the strategy sound.
And I could see it in their faces—they were impressed.
As I concluded my presentation, Dr. Stifler was nodding with open approval. Harrington looked thoughtful rather than skeptical. Even Arthur had lost some of his rigid posture.
“Thank you for your time,” I said. “Are there any last questions I can address?”
There was a moment of silence, and then Arthur cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.
“I have to say, Theresa, I’m impressed.” His voice was smooth, professional.
“When you first proposed this partnership, I had my doubts. But you’ve clearly done your homework.
These agreements are comprehensive, the technical validation is solid, and the revenue projections are ambitious but achievable. ”
I blinked, surprised by his apparent sincerity.
“Well done,” he continued. “You’ve proven me wrong. And I think I speak for all of us when I say you’ve more than earned the CEO position.”
Some of the pressure in my chest eased.
“Thank you, Arthur.”
Dr. Stifler spoke up. “I move that we formalize Theresa’s position as CEO, conditional upon final signing of the MacLeod partnership and federal regulatory approval.”
“I second,” said Harrington, which surprised me. He’d been one of Arthur’s strongest supporters.
“All in favor?” Dr. Stifler asked.
Ten hands raised around the table. Even Arthur’s.
“It’s unanimous,” Dr. Stifler said, smiling warmly at me. “Congratulations, Theresa. You’ve earned this.”
The relief that washed through me was so strong I had to grip the edge of the table. I’d done it. Saved Marco’s company. Proven myself capable of leading without him. Secured my children’s future.
“Thank you,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”
As the meeting adjourned, board members stopped to congratulate me on their way out. Dr. Stifler squeezed my arm and whispered, “Marco would be so proud.” Harrington gave me a gruff nod of approval. Even the more distant members offered congratulations.
I was gathering my materials when Arthur approached, hanging back until we were alone in the boardroom.
“Theresa.” His voice was softer than usual. “I owe you an apology.”
I looked up, surprised. “You do?”
“I underestimated you. I thought...” He sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. “I thought you were holding onto the company out of sentiment, not because you could actually lead it. I was wrong. Marco would be proud of what you’ve done here.”
I studied his face, searching for the usual calculation. But he just looked... tired. Like maybe he’d been fighting the wrong battle and finally realized it.
“Thank you, Arthur. That means a lot.”
He leaned against the table, his posture more relaxed than I’d ever seen it. “Listen, I want to make myself useful. You’ve clearly got the strategic vision handled, but there’s still a lot of regulatory work ahead for this partnership.”
“There is,” I agreed cautiously.
“Let me handle the CFIUS paperwork.” When I hesitated, he added, “It’s tedious work, regulatory compliance. You should focus on the technical side with Duncan’s team. That’s where your brilliance really shines.”
The compliment caught me off guard. After months of Arthur undermining me at every turn, this sudden supportiveness felt disorienting.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. You’ve earned your position, and I want to help make this partnership a success.” He smiled—a genuine smile, not the tight-lipped one I was used to. “Besides, international regulatory filings are my specialty. I can probably cut weeks off the timeline.”
Part of me wanted to decline, to keep everything under my direct control. But Arthur had more experience with international regulatory filings. And if he was finally accepting my leadership, shouldn’t I meet him halfway?
“All right,” I said. “Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate it.”
He nodded, pleased. “I’ll get started right away. The sooner we clear the regulatory hurdles, the sooner we can move forward with manufacturing.”
As he left, I stood alone in the boardroom, my reflection faint in the polished mahogany table. CEO of CarideoTech. Not interim, not acting, but actual CEO. The board had voted unanimously.
Oh, my God… this was now a reality.
Back in my office, I closed the door and reached for the phone. There was only one person I wanted to share this victory with.
“Patrick McCrae.”
“I did it!” The words tumbled out, buoyant with excitement. “The board approved. It was unanimous, Patrick. Even Arthur voted yes.”
“Theresa.” His voice warmed immediately. “I knew you would impress them.”
“You should have seen their faces when I showed them the technical validation from Duncan’s team. They couldn’t believe how quickly this came together.”
“That’s all you. You made it happen.”
The praise sent a small thrill through me. “Let’s celebrate. How about dinner Saturday?”
There was a pause, and I could almost see him smiling on the other end. “Saturday night works for me,” he said. “I’ve heard of a place in San Francisco—quiet, excellent food, and somewhere we can actually relax without worrying about running into colleagues or neighbors.”
San Francisco. An hour’s drive. Far enough that we could be just Patrick and Theresa, not the widowed CEO and the Scottish researcher with ten kids between us.
“Sounds perfect,” I said immediately. “I’ll arrange for Michael and Shelly to watch the kids.”
“I’ll pick you up at six. We should allow time for traffic.”
“I’ll be ready.”
After we hung up, I sat at my desk, a smile playing at my lips. I’d proven I could lead CarideoTech. I’d landed a significant partnership that would secure the company’s future. And I’d allowed myself to feel something for Patrick—something that went beyond gratitude or comfort or shared grief.
Everything was finally coming together.