8. Blake
Blake
Three weeks after we contacted Agent Thane, a formal motion for an executive fitness review rests open in front of me in the Keller Industries boardroom.
Victor’s investment group submitted it that morning under the review provisions attached to the original acquisition process.
The provision doesn't give Victor authority over Keller Industries, but it gives his group standing to place a concern before the board and force the company to answer it while the acquisition proposal remains unresolved.
I have already read the first page twice. The motion cites my collapse, the length of my medical leave, my continued use of a cane, and the accommodations made since I returned to work. It relies on an investor covenant written for the prolonged incapacity of a principal officer.
Maceo remains standing beside my chair long enough to straighten the knot of my tie. He smooths the collar beneath it, then bends and kisses me once on the mouth.
“You read it,” he says as he takes the chair beside mine. “I’ll stop them when they start pretending the motion says something it doesn’t.”
“And if I start pretending I can answer all of it today?”
“Then I’ll stop you too, genius.”
Victor and Dorian enter before I can tell him which part of that arrangement I object to.
Victor settles across from me and aligns his copy of the motion with the edge of the table. Dorian sits beside him as the acquisition group’s strategic representative, a second packet resting beneath his hand.
“This isn't a personal indictment, Blake,” Victor says. “Your collapse was public, your leave extended beyond the original estimate, and the accommodations required since your return have raised reasonable questions about continuity.”
I turn to the second page while he speaks. I refuse to let him summarize my body for me.
“I resumed my executive duties more than three weeks ago,” I say. “Maceo has taken over part of the operational workload, but every final decision remains mine.”
Dorian folds his hands over the packet in front of him.
“The question isn't whether you can participate in a meeting. The board will consider whether the current division of responsibilities is temporary, whether it can be sustained, and whether the company has become dependent on accommodations that were never presented to its partners.”
His phrasing is careful. He never says weak, incapable, or replaceable. He leaves those conclusions on the table for everyone else to reach.
Victor slides a two-page medical summary across the table toward me.
Maceo reaches across my open folder and removes it before I can touch it. He places the summary facedown beside his legal pad.
“You don't hand him selected portions of his own records,” he says. “Any medical documentation submitted to the board will come through counsel, with the scope and privacy protections stated in writing.”
I turn the next page of the motion while Victor looks between us.
“Continue,” I tell him.
Victor’s mouth tightens slightly. “The covenant allows the board to request a review when there is uncertainty regarding a principal officer’s ability to perform essential functions.”
“The covenant is intended for prolonged incapacity,” Maceo says. “Blake is sitting in front of you, actively directing this company and participating in a board-level discussion.”
“Then the review will confirm that.” Victor adjusts the motion in front of him.
“Until the board completes the process, Keller Industries will have to answer reasonable questions from its partners. Medical confirmation, continuity planning, and the current delegation of executive authority are all relevant.”
Maceo’s expression doesn't change. “Relevant doesn't mean unrestricted.”
“No,” Victor says. “It means documented.”
Maceo angles the motion far enough to read the paragraph beside my hand. I keep two fingers against the page, and he leaves the packet between us without turning it toward himself.
The motion is legally weak. Maceo explained that before the meeting, and our counsel confirmed it after reviewing the covenant.
Victor doesn't need the motion to remove me immediately.
He needs it to remain in the corporate record long enough for investors and partners to begin asking whether Keller Industries is stable without someone else standing behind my chair.
I reach the section listing the accommodations made since my return. The language turns practical decisions into evidence of failure: reduced travel, shared operational duties, modified hours, and a second executive workstation.
I close the motion without pushing it away.
“I will read every page and answer through the board,” I say. “You don't get to treat my recovery as consent to restructure my company. I remain competent, active, and responsible for every executive decision made under my name.”
Victor watches me without interrupting.
“If you expect me to withdraw because the review is invasive, you have misjudged me.”
Dorian slides the second packet across the table. “The revised partnership terms remove the sanctuary provisions you rejected. They also create temporary voting and operational protections if the board determines that Keller Industries requires interim executive coverage.”
I open to the marked section.
The language allows Dorian’s group to gain expanded voting authority if Victor’s review limits my role, even temporarily. It would also give them influence over senior appointments and certain investment decisions until the board determines that I have resumed unrestricted executive capacity.
Victor creates the question of whether I can continue leading. Dorian offers the structure that benefits if the answer is no.
“No,” I say, closing the packet.
Dorian’s fingers remain on its edge. “You have not reviewed the full revision.”
“I reviewed the clause that matters.”
I pass the packet to Maceo without looking away from Dorian. Maceo turns it back to the temporary voting provision and places my pen beside the clause.
I draw a line through it, write rejected across the margin, and initial the change.
Maceo adds a note beneath it stating that Keller Industries rejects any interim transfer of voting authority arising from the disputed fitness review. He slides the packet back across the table.
“Now you have our full response to that provision,” he says.
Dorian’s expression tightens before he can smooth it away. He looks toward Victor, but the frustration doesn't appear to be directed at him. For a moment, he resembles someone calculating how to explain the failed meeting after he leaves.
Victor shows no similar hesitation. He turns to a marked page in his folder as though my refusal has merely moved them to the next prepared step.
“If the board authorizes the review,” he says, “the partnership committee will expect a formal response before the next investor session.”
“You will receive the response required by the bylaws,” Maceo says.
Victor gathers his papers. “I hope you understand that delay will only create further uncertainty.”
“I understand exactly what you are creating,” I say.
Dorian stands and takes the marked copy of the proposal with him. His attention lingers on the line I drew through the clause before he closes the packet. Maceo keeps Keller Industries’ copy beside his legal pad.
Neither of them says anything else before they leave and the door closes behind them. I remain seated, staring at the motion and our copy of the revised terms. Maceo waits until their footsteps disappear into the corridor before standing and turning my chair toward him.
He stops between my knees. I remove my glasses and place them beside the motion before he draws my face against his stomach.
I wrap one arm around his waist. There isn't anything discreet about it, even with the glass boardroom walls and employees moving through the corridor outside.
Maceo rests his forearm across my shoulders and lets me stay there until the anger stops pressing against the inside of my ribs.
“Procedure is mine,” he says.
I turn my face enough to press a kiss through the fabric of his shirt. “Final position is mine.”
“I know.”
He runs his fingers once through the hair at the back of my head before stepping away far enough for me to reach my glasses. Maceo moves the revised terms beside the motion and begins marking the clauses that connect them.
“The review is weak,” he says. “That doesn't make it harmless. We will have to answer it formally, produce medical confirmation, prepare for a board hearing, and control what information they are entitled to receive.”
“Then you handle the procedure,” I say. “Prepare the response schedule and tell me which sections require my decision. I’ll finish the motion tonight and review the supporting medical provisions tomorrow.
I am not giving Victor an incomplete answer because he expects me to exhaust myself producing it. ”
Maceo looks at me for a moment before nodding. “I’ll separate the deadlines, evidence requests, and arguments. You keep final approval.”
“Exactly.”
He starts dividing the documents into separate stacks.
“Victor had every answer ready,” I say. “Dorian did not.”
Maceo glances up.
“His frustration was not about me rejecting the proposal,” I continue. “It was about what happens after he leaves this room.”
“You think he has someone above him.”
“I think neither of them is behaving like the final authority.” I hand Maceo the page containing the interim voting clause. “Find out who has authority over Dorian’s side of the proposal. His reaction was not about this room.”
“I’ll trace the approval structure.”
“Without contacting anyone tied to the old entities.”
“I heard Thane too.”
I look at the time, then at the remaining pages.
Maceo closes the motion before I can reach for it again.
“You said tonight.”
“I know what I said.”
“And I know what you do when you are angry.”
He places the packet into my briefcase and keeps the revised terms for himself. I let him, though only because he is right.
By the time we reach home, Grayson is waiting near the foyer. He takes my briefcase, sets it out of reach, and catches the end of my tie before I can pass him.
“Sit down, baby. Oliver has called three times about flowers.”
“Approve the peonies.”
Grayson loosens my tie as he walks backward toward the nearest chair, drawing me after him by the silk. “You haven’t even heard the crisis.”
“The crisis is Oliver called three times.”
He pushes me gently into the chair, removes the tie, and drapes it around his own neck before kneeling to work off my shoes.
“The lilies are unavailable,” he says. “Oliver says white peonies might save the centerpieces, but only if we decide tonight.”
“He has his answer.”
Grayson pulls the first shoe free. “You sound very certain for someone who has not reviewed the floral proposal.”
“Oliver can have the peonies.”
His mouth curves, but he doesn't ask what happened in the boardroom. He works the second shoe loose and rests my foot against his thigh.
“Maceo has the procedure,” I tell him. “I kept the decisions.”
Grayson looks up at me from beneath the tie he stole. “Good.”
He presses his mouth briefly to the inside of my ankle before setting my feet on the rug. The contact is warm and deliberate, intimate enough to loosen the last of the tension in my shoulders without turning into another discussion about what my body can manage.
His phone begins ringing from the kitchen. Oliver’s name appears across the screen.
I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. “Peonies.”
Grayson stands, carrying my shoes in one hand as he answers. “They’re approved, Oliver.”
He pauses on his way toward the kitchen and looks back at me. “Yes,” he says into the phone. “Blake approved them personally.” Then he walks away wearing my tie.