26. Drake
CHAPTER 26
Drake
The meeting room door has never seemed so imposing before. It’s my fucking office building, in a meeting room I’ve sat in hundreds of times. I shouldn’t be this fucking intimidated by the prospect of talking to people I know and telling them to fuck off, exactly as I would have done at any other time.
Mimosa is standing next to me, wearing a smart office dress. Her hair is pulled up in a bun, and she’s got glasses and boring flats on. She barely looks like herself. Only the blue hair hints at a real personality.
The elevator dings behind us, and I turn in time to see Oliver getting out. He startles when he sees me.
“Drake? You’re… early,” he says, smiling nervously.
“Yeah. I had a few things to discuss with Hunter and Chase first, so I figured I’d do that ahead of the meeting,” I answer smoothly.
I want to yell at him and tell him to get the fuck out of my company, but that’s not on the table. I have to appear cool, calm, and collected.
If Mimosa weren’t here, I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back.
The little anxiety pills Hunter had gotten me are doing next to nothing, though they’ve dimmed the headache I’ve been fighting for several days.
Oliver turns to Mimosa. “Who is she? ”
Mimosa was right that he wouldn’t recognize her. She’d still had orange hair at the party, and the makeup and styling is so different from what she’d looked like then.
Mimosa smiles and steps forward, extending her hand. “Amber Grayson, sir. Pleasure to meet you. I’m filling in for Caroline, since she left so abruptly.”
The mention of Caroline has Oliver’s eyes widening, but he takes Mimosa’s hand and shakes it. “You’re single, then? Did Drake tell you what the secretarial duties entail?”
“Single?” My mouth drops open, and despite the fact that Mimosa has been talking me down and into calm all of the day, that simple word threatens to be my undoing. “What does that have to do with anything? She’s not?—”
Mimosa steps on my foot with her heel. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, sir. As executive assistant, I’m here to take notes on the board meeting. You can thank me for getting copies of today’s slides sent to everybody, and if for some reason you didn’t bring a tablet or laptop, I also can provide you with paper printouts, pens, and paper.” She keeps smiling the entire time. “But surely you knew what executive assistant duties entail.”
The way she so thoroughly puts him down is effective enough to keep me above the water, and I smirk at Oliver.
Oliver laughs nervously and scratches the back of his neck. “Right. Well, sweetheart, we’ll have to meet over coffee sometime and get to know each other.”
Never mind the calm. “Do I need to get with HR about sexual harassment of a temporary employee?” I ask sharply. “Because I will. She’s not your f— sweetheart.”
“Yeah, Dan in HR would love to meet her too, I bet,” Oliver shoots back. “Anyway, the board meeting. I wanted to chat with a few people too.”
He goes through the large doors. Several of the board members are already waiting inside, including Chase. I seethe as the doors slowly shut again.
I didn’t realize Oliver was like this. Had he always been this way, and I’d just ignored it or didn’t care?
“I think he wanted to rattle me,” Mimosa says calmly. “He wanted me to think you were a sexually harassing asshole. Which I already know.”
“Not to my employees!” I protest.
They’d always been eager to climb into bed with me. I hadn’t had to harass them at all.
“Anyway, let’s get inside before he can start to talk shit,” I grumble, wishing I could wrap my arms around her and pull her close. But no. As far as anyone here is concerned, she’s only someone filling in for Caroline.
Someone who is most assuredly not single and definitely not their sweetheart.
We enter the room, and all conversation dies down. I notice the way some of the board members pale, and a few wince.
George and Oliver stop whispering to each other in the far corner.
“Hey! Don’t stop chatting on my account,” I say to the room at large. “I think we’ve got another few minutes until the meeting officially starts.”
I walk over to the refreshments table, which Caroline had of course organized before she’d left. It’s an extravagant spread, and Mimosa had balked when she’d seen the bill as she’d gone through Caroline’s email.
I want to talk to Mimosa now, just to ground myself, but of course several of the board members come over to talk to me, and Mimosa ends up talking to a few other people.
This was the plan. We have to act normal.
I have to act normal.
When the clock on the wall ticks over to the hour mark, I clear my throat and say, “All right, everybody. Let’s get this meeting started. We’re all busy people, and we can’t wait around for stragglers.”
I’m sure Oliver would have said that about me, if I’d been missing.
We all take our seats, with Mimosa in a chair near the wall behind me. Almost all of the board of directors are there, which makes me itch in the back of my neck. Even Rachel Stellar is there, and she only shows up when there’s some pet issue she wants to be on the news about.
If they vote me out of the company, there is definitely going to be a huge news story .
I wish Mimosa were within view. I have to settle for knowing she’s directly behind me, supporting me.
“Right. Let’s get started with the financials…” Oliver starts up his bog-standard presentation, then takes a few questions about where the market is heading and how our prospects look for the rest of the year.
Dull, boring, and normal.
My fingers clench as I wait for the ball to drop.
Forty minutes into the meeting, and I almost wonder if this was all a false alarm. Maybe I invented the whole problem, spurred on by my withdrawal or my fear of Mimosa leaving or whatever else is wrong with my fucking brain.
Except George Browning suddenly stands up and says, “There’s one more matter to discuss.”
All eyes turn to him, and he puts on a grim expression. “We’ve all been keeping track of the news cycles and the rumors. We know exactly how much hinges on public opinion. And to that matter, I wanted to bring up an unsavory, uncomfortable issue.”
His eyes meet mine, and I swear he’s laughing at me internally.
“Drake, you’re a… controversial figure. I’m sure you know that.”
I bite back the urge to growl at him like a fucking caveman. Instead, I quirk a brow, gesturing for him to continue as I settle back into my seat. “Sure. Who among us hasn’t stirred up a little controversy now and again?”
“But that doesn’t excuse the damage you’ve done to us over the years,” George continues. “The drugs, the partying, the many women who have posted on social media about your unsavory ways?—”
“Really?” Hunter interrupts, impatient. “Social media rumors? Who reads that drivel?”
Chase laughs and claps Hunter on the back. “You’re the only person who doesn’t keep up with social media, Hunter.” He looks at George again. “You were saying? Something about unsubstantiated rumors?”
George falters, apparently not having planned on a peanut gallery. “Substantiated rumors, Vicious. We’ve all been invited to his parties. We’ve all been pressured to participate in all of his vices.”
“I thought your feelings would be hurt if I didn’t invite you,” I drawl. “So yeah, I asked Caroline to send you invites. I’d need to hear this supposed pressuring for myself. Maybe the drugs you say I was taking addled my brain and I just don’t remember. Or maybe…” I give him one of Mimosa’s most deadpan looks, “you’re just wrong.”
“I don’t know, you were keen to share the drugged-out whores last year,” Oliver says with a sneer. “I know at least one of them is thinking about suing you. We don’t want the fallout of that on our hands either, and we can’t keep paying off all your mistakes.”
“So let me get this straight,” I say, leaning forward and feigning calm as much as I can despite how badly I want to just start breaking things — starting with Oliver’s arms and legs. Mimosa is here. Hunter and Chase are here. We can get through this. “You’re accusing me, in front of the board, of taking drugs, of throwing wild parties, of having sex, of soliciting women for other people to have sex with, of pressuring others to engage in my nefarious ways, and the company is apparently paying out reparations for these things?”
“He isn’t wrong,” Rachel Stellar interrupts. “Drake, half the articles about you are about how unhinged you are. When’s the last time you interviewed with somebody who actually liked you? No, you’re so fucking unpopular our stock value goes up the longer you stay out of the news.”
The worst part is that she’s not entirely wrong.
Before Mimosa, I hadn’t been a very good businessman for a long time. Sure, I can be charismatic when I want to be, but I hadn’t wanted to be during those ridiculous interviews. The only saving grace was that I’d skipped so many in the past few months that the stock value never dipped dramatically.
“Then I guess it’s good that the only way I’ll be in the news is if someone leaks your attempts to drop me from the board, seeing as how the stocks are doing great right now. I don’t think the shareholders would appreciate you tanking them when there’s been no evidence of wrongdoing beyond my purported social image,” I say, starting to get impatient. It feels like ants are marching down my arms, and sweat starts to break out on the back of my neck.
Fuck.
What had I actually done? I don’t remember any epic fuckups that had gone to the media, and there haven’t been any settlements in at least six months. The timing of their attack is actually strange, unless Patrick blabbed.
I’d told Chase, Hunter, and Mimosa that I was screwed, but they hadn’t believed me.
“Well, since you’re bringing it up,” George says with a wide smile. “I propose we vote to remove Drake Brutal as CEO. He hasn’t contributed anything meaningful to the company in years, and we need new blood to bring the company back in line.”
There’s a murmur from the rest of them. All eyes are on me, boring into me, wanting to tear me apart and leave my pieces for the rats.
My mouth is dry as I try to force words out. Anything to stop this from happening.
But I can’t.
I can’t get a single word out, and my breathing starts to quicken.
A warm hand touches my shoulder.
“Breathe,” Mimosa whispers in my ear. “It’s not over yet.”
It feels like it is, though. It feels like it’s the end of the world.
I should’ve just stayed in bed.
“Question,” Hunter says, drawing attention away from me. “Do you have a replacement lined up?”
I grit my teeth and remind myself that Hunter is playing his part. He isn’t betraying me.
George nods. “Oliver is going to be interim CEO, until we can interview candidates, but I have several lined up?—”
Going to be .
They’d been so sure about this move that not only had they planned on putting Oliver in my fucking place, they’d started lining up replacements, too.
Chase starts laughing. “Oliver? Uh, no offense, Oliver, but you know numbers. You don’t know contracts, and you don’t know tech.”
“I’ll take offense, actually,” Oliver says with a sneer. “Isn’t it a conflict of interest for you to be on the board anyway? Since you’re Drake’s friend?”
Now Chase smiles wider. “Nope. I was one of the founding investors. I helped draw up the IPO contract. But if you want to talk conflicts of interest…?”
That’s my cue. I’m supposed to stand up and g ive a speech and reveal all the shit we’ve discovered over the past twenty-four hours of research and stalking.
I can’t move, though. I’m completely frozen, the words dying in my throat. I know these things like the back of my hand. I’ve talked about them over and over.
So why am I sweating and failing to come up with anything at all?
Mimosa squeezes my shoulder and stands up. “Of course, Mr. Vicious.” She does something, and the screen in the back wakes up to display a new set of slides. “Hi everybody. Thanks for being here tonight. What an exciting first board meeting for me!”
Fuck, how is she acting so perky? I barely recognize her.
“I know some of you were blindsided by this turn of events. Mr. Brutal and I certainly wouldn’t have expected such respected members of our company to have been plotting against him like this.” She shakes her head, an exaggerated gesture for the audience. “But I did do some digging, and did you all know that Mr. Browning has been investing in one of our direct competitors?”
There’s a murmur from the crowd.
“Now, I’m just an executive assistant, but I’ve read a little about contracts and business practices.” Mimosa uses the clicker to flip to the next slide, showing the portfolio of our competitor. “Look at that. If things went horribly for us, they might be positioned to take a larger share of the market. Or even swoop in for a hostile takeover.” She giggles vapidly, like she really doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Which could result in a huge profit for George Browning, but where does that leave all of you? You sell, after your stocks have tanked? Hmm, sounds like a loss to me.” Mimosa shakes her head. “You’ll cut your losses, I suppose. Go on to direct other companies. But…”
I could kiss her. I could absolutely fucking kiss her right now, right in front of the rest of them. I don’t know where this side of Mimosa came from, exactly, but it has me sitting straighter, my expression losing its tension and becoming more confident as I feel it. I finally understand that my friends—and Mimosa—will back me, no matter what, even though I don’t fucking deserve it.
Hunter makes an exasperated sound. “We’d be out millions first. ”
“And that’s before all the lawsuits,” Chase adds. “You did all read the contracts and board manuals, right? The ones that outline the very, very narrow circumstances Drake can be removed from the company?”
Mimosa flips to the next slide, which has that part of the contract highlighted. “Huh, sounds like if you have a problem with Mr. Brutal, you should quit the board yourselves instead.”
I take a breath and stand up, holding my shoulders straight. I smile at everybody in the room, scanning their expressions. When my eyes meet Mimosa’s, she nods to me.
“Amber explained it all pretty well,” I say, and I’m shocked at how steady my voice is. “I’m the company. The company is me. Rachel said our stock prices are up when I’m not in the news? That’s because everybody trusts in my vision. You kick me out? You’ll have somebody who only cares for their short-term profits, who will sell just to cash out their stock options early. I’m the only one this invested in seeing the company thrive.
“Every new app idea, every new feature? That’s me. All the fucking contracts we negotiate, all the legislators we bring onto our side? That’s me. You think George over there gives a fuck about anybody but himself? No. You think Oliver gives a fuck about anything but his paycheck? I had to tell him to drop the Chandler deal, that it would never go anywhere—and I was right. We saw how that fucking company imploded.
“So tell me again how much better off you’d all be without me? Oh, and if you vote me off? Yes, I will fucking sue every last one of you. You think your millions compare to the billions I will pour into these lawsuits? Can you afford to go toe to toe with me in a legal battle?”
The room is silent. I don’t know if this is enough. I don’t know if this swayed their opinions.
“Let’s vote,” George demands, though he no longer sounds as confident as before. “All in favor of removing Drake Brutal as CEO, raise your hands now.”
George and Oliver both raise their hands.
There are others who start to raise their hands, but they immediately drop them when they realize they don’t have a majority.
I glance o ver at Rachel. “I’m surprised you aren’t raising your hand.”
Rachel shrugs. “I don’t want a protracted legal battle, and also,” she looks at George, “Fuck you, I’m not killing the company just so you can get rich off our failures.”
She’d been the one I’d been the most worried about. Even if it had initially looked like a minority, her vote could’ve swayed some of the more on the fence members to change their minds.
I can breathe again.
“So I think it’s time to vote in favor of removing George Browning from the board,” I say with far more conviction and authority than he’d shown when trying to oust me. “For obvious reasons.”
This time, everybody’s hands go up except for George and Oliver.
George’s face is red with humiliation. “You… You can’t?—”
“We can,” Chase says cheerfully. “In fact, we’re doing it right now. Amber, you’ll add that to the board minutes, of course.”
Mimosa nods. “Yes, it’s all recorded, and I’ll compile the minutes as soon as we’re done here.”
I smirk at George. “There you have it. You’re gone. And Oliver… I’d suggest handing in your resignation tomorrow.”
“Yeah, fuck you, Drake,” Oliver says. He flips all of us off. “Can’t wait for all this to blow up in your faces, assholes.”
And that’s it. George follows Oliver out, and the meeting is essentially over.
My company is saved.
And, I guess, so am I.