23. Daisy
Chapter 23
Daisy
F or the millionth time that morning, Daisy hit the backspace button with a groan, watching her latest attempt at an acceptance speech erase behind the blinking cursor. She might cobble together great speeches on a dime, but the tension in the office left her head foggy.
After months of agonizing waiting, the second week of December finally arrived. The days standing between her, Jensen and the annual shareholder meeting could be counted on one hand—two days to go.
Nervous hardly began to describe the festering, growing bundle of stress in the pit of her stomach. All the anxiety sitting under her skin burned hot like an itch out of reach. With it, her thoughts ran her into the ground before sprinting away from the scene of the crime.
Either she was CEO material or spent the last few months campaigning for humiliation. While the latter might sting her ego for a while, Daisy understood that she met her match.
Jensen, despite everything she expected from him, played fair. Every move he made fit within the rules of the game, honorable. He refused to stoop low like Kenneth, earning respect in Daisy’s book. He proved her wrong, and she hated to admit it, but he had given her every reason to put her faith in him.
Harrison should be proud. He and Eileen raised a good potential CEO and an even better man.
“Okay, let’s try this from the top," Daisy murmured, dragging her laptop across her desk. Her hands hovered over the keyboard, unsure of where to start. "It should be grateful and humble but pleased because they made the right choice. Where’s a ghostwriter when you need one?”
She tested out a few openers, quick to jot them down and even quicker to delete them. The irony wasn't lost on Daisy that she couldn't write a winner's speech. Her "concession" speech came easier, at the expense of her pride. Its completion mocked her hopeful spirit.
After a minute of nothing, Daisy grabbed a notepad and pen instead of her laptop. The blinking cursor was swiftly replaced by the stain of black ink between the lines. With a pen in hand, the ideas trickled in slowly.
Daisy toyed with the pen, jotting down as much as she could before her current thread of inspiration unraveled. Her notes sprawled across the paper in messy scribbles, but the sentiment circled around legacy. Ten years marked one hell of a career at the same company, climbing from the bottom rung of power until the topmost one sat right within her grasp. The legacy of a mentor handing the reins over to his protégé, molded in his image, echoed in perfect parallel.
Daisy shifted in her chair as she closed her thoughts with a period, staring at the stream of consciousness written over the notepad. Although most of it didn’t sit nicely in the lines, the ideas were there.
“It’s a start,” Daisy’s voice trailed off when the shadows warped over the glass of her office windows. Dryness crawled up her throat at the sight of Delaney in the hallway. Hanging off Easton's arm, she stood outside Daisy and Jensen's offices, dressed in all-black like an absolute ghoul.
Almost as if Delaney sensed an audience, she faced Daisy through the glass. A smirk as sharp as knives stretched across her face while she stared at Daisy.
Daisy’s eyes narrowed in response, sneering at her. What did she want? Why was she loitering outside her office? Delaney seriously needed a hobby besides being a nosy freak who minded everyone else's business besides hers.
Delaney’s stare persisted, even as Easton led Delaney down the hall without glancing toward Daisy. The sight of them vanished from Daisy’s view, leaving her with Jensen’s empty office across the way. Yet, something about their lurking raised every sensible alarm in her head.
How often had Delaney tried to tear the promotion from her hands, interfering in a game she wasn’t invited to play? Daisy failed to see how Delaney and Easton sleeping with each other to reassure their inflated egos wasn't already a cruel enough act to warrant leaving her and Jensen alone. Unlike Easton, who seemed mostly content to ride off into the sunset with his spoils of the affair, Delaney made it her personal mission to rain misery on Daisy.
Shaking off their presence, Daisy picked up her notepad and grabbed a different color pen. A knock on her door derailed her focus as she circled a few lines that didn't make her immediately scoff at how corny they were.
Daisy’s eyes wandered toward the door, sitting taller when she spotted Sandra outside her office. She cleared her throat, gesturing for Sandra to join her. “Sandra. How are you?”
“I’m alright, thank you.” Sandra swept inside her office and closed the door behind her, leaning against the glass walls. Daisy couldn’t see her face at first but was soon met by an unreadable expression. “Can we talk? It’s important.”
"Of course. You know you can tell me anything," said Daisy.
She pushed her notepad and laptop to the side. Tension danced along the razor-thin edge in the air; Sandra hadn’t given away much, but it didn’t take a genius to notice all the signs of something big.
Sandra swallowed. “You need to resign. Immediately.”
Daisy froze. Seconds passed her by while she stood there, bewildered . While most of her thoughts stilled, the little voice in her mind screamed at her to do anything. Refuse. Get angry. Take a breath. Ask for more information. Do something-
Shakily, Daisy rose from her chair to meet Sandra at eye level, standing taller than her friend. “Why?”
“The Board has become aware of some previously suppressed information about how you were hired at Hidden Oasis. It’s caused some rumblings about our image and how the public might react if they found out.”
“Is that what Easton and Delaney told you? They waltzed into your board meeting two days before the Board vote to share something so scandalous about my past that it calls into question everything I’ve worked for in the last ten years?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The Board is aware of your youthful indiscretions," Sandra whispered. Red-hot anger streaked through Daisy's veins harder than a pump of adrenaline straight to the heart. "Ms. Malone raised concerns about a cover-up and accused Jensen of helping you hide this from the company, but the Board didn't find such evidence. Therefore, he’s not on the hook for this oversight.”
But Daisy was.
The sharp pricks of heat dancing along the back of her eyes warned Daisy about the tears ready to rush out of her. But she clenched her hands around the edge of her desk when her knees threatened to cave from underneath her. She refused to cry in front of Sandra.
“So, did you come to rake me over the coals and tell me how badly I destroyed my career?” asked Daisy.
"No. I don't think your past should disqualify your promotion after ten years of changed behavior. You aren't involved in that life anymore. We’ve all made mistakes," Sandra sighed. "However, the rest of The Board doesn’t share my sentiment. Harrison abstained from voting long before this incident, so he wasn’t there to mitigate. People have professed their intention to vote for Jensen, including the new directors from this election cycle.”
“How bad is it?”
“Daisy. . .”
“The least you can do for me is to tell me. How bad?”
“It’ll be a slaughter—a unanimous vote for Jensen,” Sandra whispered. The entire conversation balanced on the world’s thinnest tightrope. ‘Unanimous’ swung at Daisy like a sucker punch to the stomach, threatening to topple her over the edge. “Which is why you shouldn’t be there. The Malones want to see you humiliated; they will gleefully relish in your suffering. You won’t give them that victory if you resign gracefully and quietly."
Daisy's head spun, but she managed to stay upright at her desk. "You said the vote is unanimous. If you don't think I should be punished for ten years ago, then why is your husband voting for Jensen and not me?”
Guilt flashed across Sandra’s face, darkening her elegant features. Sandra’s husband, Blaine, had sat as a member of the Board of Directors since Daisy first started at the company, and his seat would be one of the few up for election in next year’s election.
Sandra told him to vote for Jensen.
"You, of all people, should understand survival. The Malones are closing ranks, and anyone who dissents will be met with opposition. Kenneth threatened to target those who opposed a clean, unanimous sweep with hand-selected candidates next year. Our hands were tied,” Sandra stammered.
“So, you protected your pockets instead of your promise?” Daisy spat back. “All that talk about breaking barriers with you, Kagami, Edna, and whoever, what was that? Did you throw together feel-good buzzwords until you realized that change could cost you money?”
“Daisy, you have to look at the bigger picture. Your life isn’t over because you aren’t the CEO of this company.”
“Yeah? Well, it sure feels like it’s over to me.”
"You can take this setback for what it is and make something good out of it. If you resign, you'll get a tidy severance package, and several of us will write you good references to help you find a new job. Once your non-compete ends, the world is yours!"
The thought should've sounded reassuring, but Sandra had never been the best of liars with an even worse poker face. Daisy studied her through narrowed eyes until her aching fingers distracted her. She kept saying "resign" instead of advising Daisy to remove her name from CEO consideration.
“You’re holding out on me,” said Daisy, voice barely above a whisper but laced with an accusation so venomous, Sandra flinched. "Why are you suggesting I resign instead of trying to fight for my place in this company?"
When Sandra's shoulders hunched and her normally statuesque posture vanished into something timid, Daisy dug her heels in. Leaning over her desk, her mouth fought against a mean snarl. Maybe she was comfortable being a bitch, but control slipped through her fingers.
Eventually, Sandra spoke, "If you decided to stay, Kenneth wouldn't stop until your career was a pile of flaming ashes. I heard him and Delaney speaking. He promised her that you would never see another promotion or a raise. Your career is done from here on out.”
Silence blanketed the room in its oppressive, heady presence. Sandra watched her face, but Daisy reached the bitter end of her resolve. Defeat flooded her mouth with its pungent taste, drowning her tongue underneath exhaustion.
Fine. Daisy gave up.
“I think you should go. I need to be alone,” Daisy remarked. The thin shred of her dignity burned at the edges while the inferno raging in her chest spread into her stomach. If she didn’t already have a blackened heart, then it would’ve burned up then and there.
Sandra made no protest while she backed toward the doors, never taking her eyes off Daisy. As she fled from the office, Daisy waited until the sight of her disappeared before she grabbed her laptop and purse.
With her things in hand, she nearly left the office until her eyes landed on the pitiful attempts at a victory speech. Daisy flung the entire notepad into the trash without hesitation.
She wouldn’t need it anymore. Speeches were for winners or gracious losers, and she felt like neither.
After the third round of knocking at her door, Daisy seriously contemplated the ethics of hitting someone with a chair.
She restlessly shifted under the mound of blankets strewn over her couch that she aptly dubbed her ‘pity cocoon’ while the knocking raged on. Her hands clamped over her ears like it would shut out the insistent asshole in her apartment hallway.
Daisy hadn’t been doing well since Sandra broke the news; she called off work, using all her sick days in advance. The board meeting would be tomorrow morning, bright and early, but Daisy refused to spend another moment in that office.
Even at home, she mourned her loss. Beyond managing a shower and changing into comfortable clothes, Daisy qualified as a bona fide wreck. She spent hours crying and throwing up every meal she tried to stomach in between reminders to write her letter of resignation, effective immediately.
Ten years dedicated to that company and for what? She lost her chance to do what she spent years dreaming about, sentenced to watch the wasted potential circle the drain.
But beyond the self-pity, worry crept in through all the questions swirling through her head. If she needed the money, how fast could she find another job to keep up with rent payments and her family’s expenses?
She hadn’t figured out how she planned to tell them she lost her job. Her mom and Dex didn’t need to remember how bad of a fuck-up she was, not after she tried so hard to make up for her mistakes.
Daisy scrunched her eyes closed while trying to find sleep, waiting until the knocking at the door stopped, but it only grew louder until her temper finally boiled over, screaming.
“I’m fucking coming, okay!” Daisy exclaimed despite the scratchiness of her throat, making her sound like a chain smoker. In reality, she lost her voice from all the tears and constant vomiting.
She ambled for the door without her blankets—clad in an oversized hoodie and bleach-stained sweats—and yanked it open, prepared to hiss profanities at the idiot knocking on her door. But the sight of Jensen stopped Daisy cold, almost prepared to throw up again.
She blinked at him, dressed in his favorite navy suit to bring out the sharpness of his blue eyes. Then, she spotted the bottle of alcohol hanging from his hands. The gorgeous neon orange glittered against the backlighting from the hallway while held in Jensen’s grip; Daisy would recognize the brand anywhere.
Although she probably looked like death, Daisy coughed, “That’s my favorite bourbon. Where’d you get this?”
“I know a guy,” Jensen murmured. “But if you’re asking how I know this brand is one you like, I pay attention. You always order a drink with either whiskey or bourbon during every company event with an open bar. This is the one our catering company carries on staff.”
“Oh. And you brought me a bottle because. . .?”
“Because I thought you and I should share a drink before tomorrow. We only have one more night of not knowing. Us not killing one another before we made it to tonight warrants celebration.”
“Jensen,” Daisy started. She should let him down gently and send him home to enjoy his last night of the unknown.
"I didn't see you at work today, and someone mentioned you left early yesterday." Jensen reached his hand out and cupped Daisy's cheek. His cool fingers slid against her burning skin like salvation, threatening to summon a new rush of tears. “You’re not coming down with something, are you? Do you need anything?”
With the tender feel of Jensen's hand against her face and his gaze turned so attentive, Daisy's resolve to keep herself together crumbled. She sighed, "One drink. Come in."
“Thanks. Do you have glasses?”
“I do. You can make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the glasses.”
Daisy turned her back to Jensen, letting a rogue tear on the tip of her lashes fall. Was drinking a bad idea? Probably. Yet, the prospect of numbing the pain inside her sounded like a good enough solution.
One drink only.
Daisy rifled through her cabinets for glasses. Even with Jensen hanging in the living room, her apartment stayed quiet, in a reprieve from the last thirty-something hours of emotions.
She turned around, two glasses gripped between her fingers. When her eyes landed on Jensen, however, all calm broke loose. He stood in front of her open laptop with an unreadable expression overtaking his features.
His eyes jumped up, unable to hide the betrayal from her. It cut deep to watch his gaze drop to her laptop again with her resignation letter still on the screen.
He knew.
“You’re resigning?” Jensen whispered into the chasm between them, feeling like several miles of distance instead of a small apartment’s length. He didn’t wait for an offer to explain, jaw clenching. “I didn’t think you were the type to run away.”
Daisy bristled. His accusation stung, but he was right. Running away went against everything Daisy stood for as a person. Could she call it running when the world ripped the rug from underneath her, and she needed to land safely?
She swallowed. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.” Jensen stepped away from the laptop, setting the bottle of bourbon on her coffee table. Daisy watched him walking toward her, perfectly still. Jensen stopped a few inches from her to preserve some space between them. “Don’t underestimate how much I can meet you in the middle, Daisy.”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes!”
"Fine! It's over. I know how the Board is voting for the election, and there's no reason for me to stay.”
Confusion pulled Jensen's brows into a tight furrow while his mouth moved around the words he wanted to say. Instead, his stormy blue eyes peered into Daisy’s for something more.
Daisy crossed her arms over her chest. "It's unanimously in your favor, Jensen. My career is finished, and you're the new CEO. I'd like to tell you congratulations, but I can't stomach it after the lengths they went through to make me lose. They wanted you to win so badly.”
Her voice broke, making Daisy sound pathetic as she struggled to choke the words out. She never stood a chance, but she refused to leave without dignity.
Jensen stepped closer. “Who’s they?”
“Kenneth. . . and Delaney. That whole family is comprised of demons,” Daisy hiccupped. “Delaney and Easton told the Board about my past and turned them all against me. They tried to get you in trouble, but no one believed them that you knew about what I did and hid it from the company. They fucked me over for you to win.”
From confusion, anger bloomed on Jensen’s face. His eyes darkened until they no longer looked blue in the light while his mouth fought against a furious scowl. "Fuck. I will raze their reputations into the ground until there’s nothing left.”
“No, you won’t,” Daisy interjected, grasping Jensen’s wrists until his fists loosened. The ripple of tension down his wrists prompted a quiet shiver to curl along her spine, wanting him to be mad. He meant to protect her, but it was her turn to protect Jensen. You’re going to attend the Board vote and graciously accept your win. You earned your promotion with all the bells and whistles attached.”
“That’s not fair.”
"Life isn't fair, Jensen. I, of all people, know how it plays favorites, and the rest of us get shafted. I'm taking my raw deal and playing it out."
Jensen’s mouth opened in protest. “I can’t let this happen. What they did was wrong and cruel—”
"I'm used to it," Daisy shushed him, finally letting go of his wrists. "Look, I don't think we should drink tonight. You should prepare for your crowning moment tomorrow, and I need to finish my resignation letter. Get home safely, Jensen."
Jensen said nothing. He merely stared at her, shrouded in his palpable disappointment curling off him in waves. Daisy drowned under them, trying to keep her head above the fray.
He stepped back from her and nodded, still not saying a word. Jensen headed toward the door, pausing to spare her one last sidelong glance. Then, he left her and the bottle of bourbon behind in the apartment.
A shudder crawled from Daisy’s lips while her knees collapsed inward, crashing her into the nearby kitchen counter. Her arms scrambled to hold herself up until they burned too much to stand.
Daisy slid to the kitchen floor, ungraceful, unseemly, and unlike herself. Tears welled in her eyes when she glanced toward the door, and she held her breath, hoping Jensen would walk back in. She knew he wouldn't, though.
She let him down. Her final failure.
In the haze of it all, she forgot to broach the subject in the back of her mind. Them. What happened to them with her gone and Jensen moving on to better things in the company they loved so much?
Daisy swallowed, knees tucking into her chest. It didn't matter anyway. Time would pass, and maybe one day, it would stop hurting.