Hayes
ten
“This has been the day from hell,” Zander says, taking a deep drink from a tumbler of Underworld Spirits bourbon brought in from my office after the press conference earlier today.
I sip from my own glass and eye my brothers across the boardroom table. “This isn’t even close to over. We’ve been playing catch up trying to clear the rubble and figure out the best way through this disaster. We’re still not ahead of it, and it won’t give us the benefit of a night off to regroup.”
“The media is crucifying Olympus, and us. They’re saying we’re not doing enough. That we were negligent and put our workers at risk for profit,” Payton says with more pep to his voice than his statement warrants.
I give him a nasty look as he scrolls on his tablet and ignores me. I will never understand how he can be so optimistic and unfazed by even the worst of the world. It’s like he relishes when shit hits the fan.
“We’ve done what we can with the media. They will run whatever they want until the next news cycle produces a bigger story.
Our focus needs to be on the people. The ones who were killed, injured, or at risk since the mine is currently shut down.
We have to show the integrity of our business.
” Silence descends in the room, papers still, and all eyes turn toward me.
Luca De Silva, SVP of operations, meets Payton’s eyes and a silent conversation passes between them. Payton turns back to me.
“We have an image problem. It’s been brewing for years, but this disaster finally sealed the deal. We have to address the media, and change the way we are viewed, both with this event, and moving forward.”
“Image problem? Who cares about what anyone else thinks of us? All that matters is we get shit done and mow through whatever obstacle is set in front of us,” Zander says, brushing a stack of papers out of his way so he can lean his arms on the table.
“That’s exactly it,” Luca says, casting a graph onto the screen from his tablet. “You won’t be able to keep mowing down competition and gobbling up companies without developing a stigma in the business world that will leak into public perception.”
“Olympus doesn’t have stock that’s publicly traded, just a few of our subsidiaries. Why does public perception need to matter right now?” I ask, trying to follow what Payton and Luca are saying, and how it relates to our next steps.
Payton stands and moves toward the screen. “We’re being held to some higher standard because of how we have operated in the past, and the image we’ve created about being business first, people second, or much further down the list.”
He taps the screen showing a downward trend on a graph.
“Public perception means everything when you have people researching their materials, looking for corporate accountability and sustainability. The raw materials we mine go into everything from computer chips to high-end jewelry. We have more than our direct customers to answer to moving forward.”
He swipes through more photos of the end products and sales graphs and lands on one that pulls all the headlines we have attracted in the last few months.
“Our shipping and aviation departments use up incredible amounts of fossil fuels and dump tons of carbon emissions into the atmosphere. Our workers are paid fairly for their area of the world, but we have moved into industries in a lot of third-world locations, and it looks bad that they’re paid so little for the often dangerous or backbreaking work. ”
“So, you’re saying we have to reevaluate our image, along with cleaning up a mine disaster, navigating a media shitstorm, and recouping losses and operating costs in the shutdown and reconstruction of a brand new investment?
” Zander asks, his voice giving away his irritation at the expectation.
“It seems a little contrived to roll out a new publicity campaign to change our image right now, but we can begin by taking public actions that speak louder than any shitty promises in writing ever could.”
I’m in agreement with Zander on that. Money is always the issue, and the scope of work Payton is proposing could bankrupt the mining entity.
“We’re better off selling the mine and washing our hands of the issue.
It’ll be down too long to be profitable in the foreseeable future and will be hemorrhaging money trying to get back in operation at a pace that makes sense for why we picked it up to begin with,” I say, steepling my fingers in front of my face, glaring around the table.
My head always goes to money, understandably.
As the CFO, it’s my job to ensure Olympus operates well into the black with all of our acquisitions, especially the newer, riskier ones like these overseas operations.
It’s my priority to cut the losses before they sink the ship, and this is looking like a big fucking loss.
Zander plants his hands on the tabletop and pushes his chair away, standing.
“Selling the lot and throwing money at a problem doesn’t have the personal touch this situation needs.
Making statements from the gleaming lobby of our high-rise headquarters seems cold and removed.
” He looks around the room. “We need to put words into action and boots on the ground. Pack your bags, boys, we’re going to South Africa ourselves. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
I slice a hand through the air. “You will leave tomorrow. I need to stay in Atlanta and ensure our other holdings are not affected by the backlash that’s happening overseas.”
That and make sure my wife doesn’t want to go through with that divorce she may have been considering just yesterday.
I have to be a man of my word and show her with my actions that she is more important than anything Olympus has thrown at it.
Hopping on a jet and traveling halfway around the world now would just show her I can’t be bothered to work on our relationship when it needs it the most.
Zander scrutinizes me across the table, nodding tightly. “Fine. Payton and I will take our teams to South Africa to handle this at ground zero. Unless you have something you would rather be doing here, Payton?”
“My schedule is cleared, and we can get this handled and be back within the week,” he says, finally setting down his tablet.
“Don’t we have a controlling interest in some of the media outlets firing cannons at us now?” I ask Payton, who heads up the media portions of our conglomerate, along with operations.
“We do, but it doesn’t look good to send a notice to the free press telling them what they can or cannot write stories about. The most we can do is lay low and let them hunt down another juicy story. That and clean up our act now to reverse the tide that is turning our way with accusations.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. We should be able to do whatever the fuck we want when we want to. I sigh. Payton is right, though.
“Call it a wrap tonight. Go home. I’ve got a wife who needs some tending to,” I say, rising from the table.
Zander wolf whistles. “I told you my plan would work! No wonder you don’t want to leave the country with that pussy back in Atlanta where it belongs.”
My lip curls into a snarl at his words, but before I can move to throttle him, Payton steps into my line of sight, effectively blocking Zander from the punishment he deserves for speaking crassly about Paige once again.
“Don’t let his words get to you. Go home and take care of your marriage before we have more of those are they or aren’t they stories to deal with.
The Atlanta Haute List hasn’t reported you being back together yet, since the mine collapse seems to be more appealing.
Take her out, show her off, and make sure the world, or at least Georgia, knows you’re all good despite everything else.
A united front and all that bullshit. We need the better press, one way or another. ”
“That’s an order, Hater,” Zander says, leaning back in his chair to see me around Payton. “Make a bigger story than a mine collapsing. Knock her up, already. That should get their attention.”
“Fuck off,” I say, too tired to add the normal vitriol I would usually throw at him. The thought is far too appealing, however, and the practice to get to that place isn’t a burden in any way.