Chapter 16
JACKSON
When I wake, I check my phone. Dakota still hasn’t replied. I’ve got a pit in my stomach every time I think about last night. My voice cold when I told her to hide, like I thought I was her goddamn boss. How could so much heaven be followed by so much hellscape?
My cell phone rings in my hand. It’s Shane, my CFO. “How soon can you be in, sir?”
“Good morning to you too,” I say dryly.
“Sir, the stock… it’s dropped. Because of last night.”
I stand quickly, head buzzing. How the hell would anyone know? There weren’t cameras in the office, were there? Did someone see us go in together? There would’ve been cameras in the corridor, most likely. Or what if—no way—but what if Dakota went public?
“Sir?”
“I’m here,” I growl.
“Are you well enough to come in?”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?”
“That’s why the stock dropped, sir. Reports of you leaving the event early last night because of some mysterious illness.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snarl. “I left ten minutes early.”
“The board would like a meeting.”
“I bet they fucking would.”
“I miss the days when it was you and me in a garage,” I tell Pete.
“Times change,” he mutters.
“Can’t even go for a drive without putting the whole damn company in jeopardy,” I grunt.
“No offense, Jack, but this attitude isn’t going to fly in there. They need to see you calm, poised, and in control.”
I almost laugh. I’m none of those things right now. I feel like a tripwire attached to a stack of dynamite. Every time my phone buzzes—journalists, my creative and RP teams, key shareholders—I pull it out, praying it’s Dakota.
“Jack?” Pete says.
“I heard you.”
The elevator door opens onto a glass hallway leading to a larger glass room. The board members have already seated themselves around the enormous conference table, I see.
Pete touches my sleeve and nods to an adjacent room. “Quick talk before we head in?”
When I look at Pete, I find myself missing the days he’d talk to me like a friend. Just two young men trying to make their mark on the world. But I was the one who changed that, with my grumpiness, hyperfocus, and attitude.
He closes the door behind him. “How long have we known each other?” he asks.
“Twenty-one years,” I tell him.
He nods. “So—don’t hit me.”
“Go on,” I growl.
“I think last night you were having sex with that streamer. DakkyDuck. I think you left to follow her because she left around the same time. I think something serious is going on. And I’m happy for you.”
My mouth closes slowly. I look at him, see if there’s some angle here. It would make sense, of all the people to make a logical leap like this, that Pete is the one. He’s known me longest. He’s aware of my moods and how I normally behave. And, hell, have I even been careful, really?
“Happy for me?” I ask. “This isn’t a confirmation, Pete.”
He shrugs. “I don’t need one. But I mean it.
This can be a good thing. I’m seeing glimpses of the old Jack.
Your passion. You’re actually smiling.” He takes a step forward.
“As a friend, I’m over the moon. But as your head of media, I need to tell you—kill the old Jack when you walk into that boardroom.
There’s no place for feelings there. You need to lock the fuck in, bro, fast. These people are vultures.
They’ll pick you dry if you give them the chance. ”
“So, you need Douchebag, CEO Jack, Get the Fuck Out of My Face Jack.”
He smiles grimly. “Yes—yes, please.”
“You’ve got it,” I growl, clapping him on the shoulder. “And thanks.”
He claps me in return. “Don’t mention it.”
As we head for the door, I ask, “Did anyone else notice?”
“Not as far as I’m aware,” he replies. “But you need to be careful.”
“You’re too perceptive,” I mutter.
“You want a head of media with his head in the sand?”
“Fair point.”
We walk into the boardroom together. There are seven members, all absurdly wealthy because they hopped on the bandwagon early and rode my and Pete’s creativity all the way to the top.
Jacquiline McClusker stands, aiming her thin lips at me in a frown. “Would you care to explain why the stock has plummeted?”
Rajesh Singh waves a hand at her with his colorfully painted fingernails. “Easy, sister. Let the man sit down.”
“We’re bleeding money!” Jacquiline snaps, and the board members around her nod, like a little gang obsessed with the bottom line. “All this overtime, all this user satisfaction. Where does it leave us?”
I feel Pete glaring at me. Willing me to play the game.
But it’s like I can see Dakota standing on the other side of the glass, those piercing, clever eyes aimed at me. Like she’s daring me to be the man I used to be, the man who cared, who put the gamers before everything else. Including—especially—the bottom line.
I lean forward, planting my fists on the table.
“We built this company from nothing,” I say.
“Pete and I, two dropouts with big dreams and a garage with no AC. We made some mistakes—and that’s why you’re all here.
You swept in when the time was right. You had none of the creativity, none of the vision, none of the follow-through.
All you had, and all you have, is cash. That’s it. Most of you were born with it.”
I look around at their appalled faces, disgusted that they have the gall to stare like there’s something wrong with me.
“I’m sensing that you thought you could drag me here and act like you were in charge, like I work for you. But there’s a flaw in your logic.”
“Have you seen the stock price?” Jacquiline hisses.
“That’s the flaw,” I say. “I leave an event early, not because I’m sick, but because I just couldn’t give a single fuck about it.
I leave—and the stock drops. What does that tell you?
Does it indicate, for example, that the price of this company rests on your shoulders?
Or does it say, very goddamn clearly, that without me, there is no company? ”
It stuns me that they haven’t thought of this. They exchange glances as though learning some new physics theory.
“Here’s how it’s going to be,” I tell them.
“I’ll be continuing to pay our creative teams, the lifeblood of this company, the money they deserve.
This financial year, regardless of Empire’s Fall’s performance, I will take no bonus.
And if the OT continues beyond what I expect, I’ll use my own salary to fund it.
Beyond that, you’ll have to eat the cost.”
“But—”
I interrupt Jacquiline. “If you have problems, I suggest you stage a hostile takeover of the company. You all have much, much more experience with that kind of thing, I’m sure.
Otherwise, get the fuck out of my way and let me do my job.
” I’m about to leave when another thought occurs to me.
“Or you could hold a vote of no confidence. Just remember, folks, that Pete and I still have majority voting power. So, unless you can persuade my best goddamn friend to betray me, good luck!”
Pete snorts. “Yeah, good luck,” he reiterates sarcastically.
I turn, striding from the room. Before I storm out, I hear Rajesh angrily tell Pete, “We need him, but you better keep him in line! No more media blunders!”
No more media blunders—like sleeping with a streamer and making her crawl around on the floor. Just imagine if that went public…
I return to my office. On the way there, I walk past Elena. She smiles strangely at me. “I hope you’re feeling better, sir,” she says, then ducks her head and keeps walking.