Chapter 12
“Thank you, Samuel, for that update on purchasing. Now, from finance…”
As the senior leadership team of Kumar Construction continued their standard roundtable of departmental updates, Cynthia allowed herself the luxury of sitting back in her cushy executive chair for the first time all meeting.
Actually, it might’ve been the first time she’d ever let down her guard in these stupid meetings and quite possibly while in the same room as her father, period. But, more surprising to Cynthia, was the reason why .
Her father was paying zero attention to her, and she didn’t care.
In fact, she loved that he’d barely spared her a glance all meeting, given that, a little under two weeks ago, she’d accidentally orchestrated an MLM takeover of Kumar Construction.
At this rate, her father could go right on ignoring her for the rest of the month and that would be just fine with her.
Cynthia couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before. Even when she’d gotten drunk at Dennis Jackson’s graduation bush party, she’d half wished her father would catch her drinking while underage, if only to acknowledge that screwups happen but they didn’t need to define the rest of her life.
But today, with every minute she escaped his notice, the air circulating through her lungs felt clearer. Tasted sweeter. The thirteen days since Sahara had been here had been a hangover ten times worse than a long, boring night drinking straight Sour Puss around the fire.
It seemed she was in the clear: Cynthia had heard exactly zero complaints about how the CEO’s daughter, under the guise of a mandatory staff meeting, had tried to lure unsuspecting staff into a pyramid scheme.
“With investments like these…” A slow grin spread across Klepto Keer’s face, signaling that he was nearing the end of his report. He always ended with an awful finance joke. Cynthia’s gaze zeroed in on the remnants of donut sugar crusting the edges of his smile while she waited for the punch line.
“We’ll be laughing our ass ets off right to the bank!” Keer finished.
Only a few men around the table attempted half-hearted smiles; those whose interest had already waned didn’t even bother.
Leering Larry was busy rooting around the inside of his ear with his pinkie finger.
Cynthia glanced toward the ceiling and shook her head.
This was her father’s crack team and had been for the better part of the last decade.
She had no ill wishes against them, but they didn’t represent the team she wanted behind her when she took over the helm.
Cynthia didn’t want yes men—she thrived on fresh, modern perspectives and working with people whose passion for their work led to lively debates and creative problem-solving.
Kumar Construction was none of those things… yet.
Cynthia’s gaze landed on Rohit as Olufo, the senior leader in operations, began the last and final report.
Rohit, she mused, was an outlier. He might not push boundaries to the same extent as she did, but this musty gathering of corpses needed him.
Like her, he came to these meetings with more than sleepy-eyed interest, but, unlike her, the tomb came alive when he opened his mouth.
The Chosen One’s new ideas were met with contemplation, not haughtiness, and his methods of introducing these ideas never failed to charm her father’s decrepit henchmen.
When Rohit spoke, they responded with encouraging platitudes and promises to mull things over.
It was always puzzled Cynthia how Rohit seemed to take their final decisions—whether in his favor or not—in stride. He never lost his temper or grew churlish when things didn’t go his way. He just…rolled with it.
Maybe she didn’t have him completely figured out.
After all, he’d been the most easygoing about the whole MLM ordeal, keeping quiet and graciously refraining from rubbing her face in it.
Granted, he’d kept his distance since then, but even so, he’d chosen to be kind to the one person in his life who probably least deserved it.
Cynthia wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
As if he’d heard the direction of her thoughts, Rohit suddenly whipped his head up to look at Cynthia, his long, sooty eyelashes now framing wide eyes bright with caution.
What? she mouthed.
Rohit tipped his head toward the head of the table, and when Cynthia followed the line of sight, six pairs of eyes stared back at her.
Her father’s gaze was the sternest. How long had they been staring at her while she had been staring at him , as if enthralled by the curve of his thick eyelashes and the sharp edge of his meticulously groomed beard along his strong jaw?
Not that she had been noticing those things about him.
“S-sorry, what was that?” Cynthia asked, aghast by the hesitancy in her voice. This wasn’t a room for timidity. This was a room for strength and conviction and never, ever getting sidetracked by someone’s cut jawline.
“I said, ‘Cynthia, are you listening?’?” her father said.
“I’m sorry, I missed that last note.”
“Care to share what could possibly be more important than our meeting today?”
The faint crunch of Rohit cracking his knuckles caught Cynthia’s attention, but she didn’t dare glance at him again. “No.”
“Then I’ll ask again: do you or Rohit have anything to report back about the task I assigned you two?”
“Task?” someone farther down the table murmured. “What task?”
But no one replied—no one would dare to. There was something darkly foreboding in her father’s tone, a barely leashed note of anger bubbling near the surface.
Cynthia couldn’t resist risking a peek across the table. Unlike everyone else, Rohit wasn’t looking at her. His attention was locked on her father, his face so still and devoid of any emotion that Cynthia’s heart began to pound.
She was on her own with this one. “N-no. Nothing to report,” she said.
Rich frowned. “Are you saying that you two have failed to take action after receiving direct, high-priority orders from your CEO?”
Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. But with years of speaking up—and committing tooth and nail to following through—the words spilled forth anyway.
“Well, we didn’t do nothing …” Cynthia trailed off, her mind racing to spin her recent disaster in a positive light. There had to be some merit to trying at least, right?
Wrong.
“Oh, yes,” Rich drawled. “Let’s not overlook the day your efforts at team building conned your coworkers into joining a multilevel marketing scheme. My receptionist mentioned that she received several emails from a Ms.Sahara McMillan spamming her into joining something called TeamStart.”
In her peripheral, she saw Larry lean toward Keer. “Darcy gave me a sample of Ginger Vigor. Tastes like trash but I am a lot more regular,” he murmured.
“Get me some,” Keer whispered back.
Cynthia could feel the dampness gathering at the back of her neck, and she folded her hands tightly in her lap so she wouldn’t swipe at it and give herself away. “Well, to be fair—”
Her father cut her off. “You are aware that bringing an MLM on company time and demanding your coworkers attend such a presentation goes against company policy.”
Don’t say it, don’t say it… “We don’t have an official company policy,” Cynthia argued, only to wince immediately afterward. For once in her life, she needed to keep her mouth shut.
Her father must’ve agreed because he sat forward, his nostrils flaring. “If we did, don’t you think that would be on there? Where’s your common sense, Cynthia?”
Cynthia shrank back. “I…I…” Her lips felt frozen, her throat tight.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught several members of her father’s leadership team shaking their heads, and something uncomfortably thick worked its way up her chest. It was worse than the inability to find the right words. Worse than vomit, even.
Tears. The tears were coming. Cynthia’s brain flew into panic mode and without second-guessing herself, she immediately turned to where Rohit sat, aware that her eyes were wild, her cheeks flushed, and that she had no right to turn to him.
But Rohit was already standing up to face her father, his hands splayed on the table in front of him. She was done for. Rohit’s pronouncement would seal her fate; everything she’d worked toward this last year—and her entire career—was out the window. There would be no coming back.
“It’s my fault,” Rohit announced. “I invited TeamStart to the office.”
Cynthia’s shocked gasp was drowned out by Larry.
“What?” the director of sales blurted out. “ You’re the reason I now have a two-year subscription to the Ginger Vigor Wellness Package?”
Rohit ignored him, his unblinking stare trained on Rich.
“This is a very surprising lapse in judgment,” Rich said after a moment, sitting back in his chair, bushy eyebrows raised. “I’m disappointed, Rohit. What on earth possessed you to do this?”
Cynthia stared at the side of Rohit’s face, willing him to look at her, but for what reason she wasn’t exactly sure.
She knew she should take responsibility for her actions, but one glance at her father, whose piercing eyes and hard frown broached little room for apology, and the confession shrank in on itself.
Her cheeks burned and she bit her lower lip.
Deep down, Cynthia knew, had the tables been reversed, Rohit wouldn’t have looked at her for support or reassurance.
On more than one occasion, she’d made it all too clear that they weren’t a team, that he couldn’t trust or rely on her.
Cynthia couldn’t imagine standing up for him like he was doing for her now, voluntarily accepting the brunt of her father’s displeasure and disappointment.
Shame knotted tight and hot in her stomach, making Cynthia wonder if she’d been wrong—tears were the lesser evil compared to losing one’s breakfast in front of their superiors.