Two
TWO
Noble Washington
Tim: We need to talk.
T his text message flashed in my memory like a buzzing vacancy sign at a janky motel. I saw the message from the chairman of my board of directors last night, but it was too late to respond. No greeting. No salutation. Just those four brief words.
I picked up my cell phone to look at the message again. If Tim Billia said we needed to talk, texting wouldn’t suffice, but the light of the sun had yet to peek through the darkness.
As close as we’d become, calling Tim at this hour would have been inappropriate without a life-threatening emergency. In the ten-plus years I’d known Tim, he’d taught me more than my dad had in all my thirty years on this Earth. Whereas Tim never let me down, let-downs were the strongest memories I had of my real father.
I told Siri to remind me to call Tim at nine thirty. Facing the day was inevitable. I dragged myself out of bed, crossed the thick carpet toward the bathroom and turned on the rain-shower system. The cool water woke me up as it did every morning.
I arrived in the office an hour early to give myself time to prepare for my meeting with my leadership team. Mixing tasty concoctions to stay awake through late-night study sessions in grad school had led to the launch of my company, Push Beverages. Thanks to my roommate and friend, Tyler Keen, and his uncle Tim Billia, Push had taken me from a broke kid from the hood to one of the most successful young CEOs on the Forty Under Forty Power List.
Tim became more to me than just a mentor. His support and powerful network of deep-pocketed investors turned what started as a small team of three into one of the fastest-growing beverage companies in the world with corporate offices in the heart of New York City, over a hundred employees, and global distribution. Tim has served on my board of directors since Push’s inception and helped me become a respected businessman. I could never have fathomed the life that he and Push had afforded me.
Anxious about calling Tim back, I checked my watch every ten minutes for an hour and a half. I tapped his name in my list of favorites at nine twenty-nine.
“What time can we meet?” Tim asked the moment he picked up. No greeting. No small talk.
My stomach knotted. “Is it that bad?” I asked, swiping my clammy palm down my face.
“Noon good?” Tim wasn’t even using full sentences.
“Ah. Sure.”
“Let’s meet at Nelly’s,” Tim said, referring to the famed diner on Manhattan’s Upper West Side with an ethnic twist. The decor and uniforms were a throwback to the seventies and the large servings of delicious soul food kept people coming back.
“I’ll make it happen. See you there,” I agreed.
Just as I was about to disconnect, I heard Tim say, “Oh, and Noble?”
“Yeah, Tim?”
“Come by yourself.”
“Sure,” I said, slow and easy. Tim ended the call without saying bye.
What the hell was this about? I knew Tim was referring to leaving Tyler behind. Besides being his nephew and my best friend, Tyler was also my chief operations officer and right-hand man. Nothing in Push happened without Ty.
I stood up, rounded my desk, and paced my office floor. What did Tim have to say to me that couldn’t be said in front of Ty? I sat back down, tapped the keys on my laptop until our financials for the last few quarters filled my screen. We didn’t do as well as projected, but were still in the black.
My mind went in every possible direction, trying to figure out what Tim wanted to discuss. His discretion drove my insecurities to the surface. Had I done something wrong? I’d just been nominated to receive another award for the Top Fifty CEOs Under Forty. I swiped my hand down my face and dragged in a breath. To be honest, I’ve felt uneasy for weeks.
I pushed my chair back and walked over to my favorite corner looking out over downtown Manhattan and tried to gather my thoughts. The view wasn’t calming me down like it usually did, so I resumed pacing.
This hadn’t started with Tim’s email. Life has been firing on all sides for a few weeks, wreaking havoc on my serenity. People on my board with whom I’d become friendly seemed to avoid me. When they were around, they seemed less talkative.
“Mr. Washington.” My assistant, Ashley, interrupted my wallowing session.
“Yes!” I answered abruptly at first. I didn’t mean to snap at her. “Hey, Ashley. What’s up?”
“Um. Your meeting.” She raised a brow and then looked at her wrist. She didn’t have on a watch. I got the message.
I looked at my watch. It was fifteen minutes after ten. I’d forgotten to cancel the ten o’clock meeting with my leadership team.
“Ugh! Thanks. Can you tell Ty I need him in here, please?” I headed back to the chair behind my desk and let my thoughts run wild again.
Several minutes later Ty knocked and entered my office. I could read the questions in his eyes before he opened his mouth.
I nodded and gestured for him to close the door. He did, then turned to me. “What’s up?” he said, his eyebrows creased.
“Something came up with the executive committee, and now I have to prepare for a meeting with Tim at noon. I needed to reschedule our meeting but got caught up and forgot.”
“Where are we meeting him?” Ty asked.
“Not us. Me.”
Ty lifted his brows. “Oh.” An uncomfortable silence expanded between us. “Is everything all right?” Ty finally asked.
“I hope so.” I sat back in my chair and repeated more to myself than to Tyler, “I really hope so.” We swam in that discomfort for a few more moments. “I’ll update you as soon as I get back.”
Ty tilted his head and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. After a deep exhale, he said, “Okay.”
The problem with preparing for the meeting with Tim was that I didn’t know what to prepare for. Between emails, I watched the clock until it was time to go. I arrived at Nelly’s, fifteen minutes early. I wanted to be there before Tim arrived.
I spotted Tim the second he walked in the diner. I waved him over. He wore a look that said “I’m not your average middle-aged man.” He was tall and fit, with a salt-and-pepper beard—mostly salt—bright blue eyes, almond skin, and slick, platinum-blond hair cut closely on the sides. He looked like a mature model and was capable of turning the heads of women of every age and ethnicity.
“Noble!”
“Hey, Tim.” We shook hands and hugged.
“What are you having?” he asked as he slid into the booth.
“Burger and fries. You?”
“The wife says I gotta watch the cholesterol. I’m gonna go for the chicken salad sandwich. That’s better than a burger, right?”
“I don’t know, man.” I shrugged.
“Ha! Me neither, but at least it has the word salad in it.” Tim laughed, slapping the table.
His mood seemed lighter than when we spoke earlier. That gave me some relief. I felt like I’d been holding my breath from the moment his text came in.
The waitress came over, flirted with Tim, took our order, and disappeared as stealthily as she had arrived.
“Before we start, how’s things with your dad?”
“Okay,” I said, genuinely appreciative. Only a few people knew about my father or cared to ask about our “it’s complicated” relationship. I didn’t like talking about him, but Tim always asked. As much as he was like a father to me, he wasn’t mine and didn’t want me to forget that I had one, regardless of how we got along. He was the only family I had. “How’s the family?” I asked.
“Great. Everyone is great,” Tim said.
The waitress placed two ice-cold glasses of soda in front of us. I sipped nervously and sputtered a cough when some of it went down the wrong pipe.
“You know, a wise man once said that a company should change its CEO every ten years. Do you believe that?” Tim looked me straight in the eyes.
I took another sip of soda so Tim wouldn’t see that his comment had impacted my breathing. “I don’t know. Do you believe that?”
“It depends. The thing is, we have some members of the board who strongly believe that.” Tim stopped talking. I wasn’t sure if he was expecting me to respond. I didn’t. I said nothing at all. My mind was too busy trying to figure out where Tim was going with this. “Here’s the thing. You’ve been a great CEO.”
“Wait. They want to fire me?” I blurted my question. My temples began to throb.
Tim held his hand up to calm me. “Hear me out. You’ve been amazing. Our numbers haven’t been the greatest lately and it’s about time for a change. Several things usually happen at this stage for a company to go to the next level. Here are two.” Tim held up two fingers. “They get a new, more seasoned CEO.” He put one finger down. “Or sell.”
My stomach caved in. Tim’s lips continued to move but I heard nothing other than my mind repeating They’re taking your company away from you . Was I not good enough to take Push to the next level? No one ever asked Bezos or Gates or Jobs to step aside so their companies could be better. Swallowing hard, I pushed down the tightness forming in my throat and studied Tim’s mouth. I needed to focus on what he was saying.
Just as I had begun to find words to respond to Tim, our waitress interrupted us with our meals. He dug right in, but my appetite departed when Tim told me two reasons why I needed to go.
Both of Tim’s options sounded like I would have to hand my company over to someone else to run it. I didn’t want to do either of those. They all sounded like ways to get rid of me.
“Why is this necessary?” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like an angry kid. What I didn’t ask out loud was Who was behind this? Did Tim want this, or was there someone on the board that was out for my job?
“So that Push and you can be greater,” Tim said matter-of-factly.
I screamed Bullshit in my head. Sitting back hard, my mouth said, “Help me understand this.”
Tim put his sandwich down and wiped his hands with a napkin. He looked directly into my eyes. “Push and you are at a crossroads. I need you to think about whether you’re more committed to the company’s future or your success.”
“I thought I was supposed to be committed to both.”
“You never want to overstay your welcome. It’s important to leave a company while you’re still attractive to other companies and your career is at a high.”
I dropped my head into my hands.
“I know this feels deeply personal to you.”
“Damn right.” I slammed my hand on the table, causing my untouched drink to teeter. Heads whipped around in our direction. I lowered my voice. “This company is my life. I started it from my dorm room.”
“But now it belongs to the millions of people who drink and invest in Push daily—the shareholders. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Tim looked confused.
“Well, yeah.” I felt like saying “Duh.” Of course I wanted this.
I knew the company belonged to our shareholders once we had gone public, but Push was my child. I had nurtured it, watched it grow, and loved what it turned out to be. It was my greatest accomplishment and my way of staying out of the poor house.
I hated struggling as a kid and did everything I could to help my mother out after my dad had cheated and left. While my friends played video games that I couldn’t afford, I worked in the local bodega and fast-food restaurants to buy my own school clothes and take the burden off my mother. Push became my way out. I dedicated every accomplishment to the memory of my mom. Now they wanted to snatch that away from me?
“What do you want for your future Noble?” Tim asked.
Buying time, I finally sipped the icy soda, hoping to quench the dryness that settled in my mouth. Push was all I had come to want for myself. For the past ten years, while friends were partying, getting married, and having kids, I was building Push. I woke up in the morning for Push. Came home at night to Push. The only true family I claimed to have is the one I gained through Push. In return, Push had given me more than I had ever imagined—something to call my own. Acceptance, approval, respect, and wealth. Extracting Push from my life would leave very little behind.
Instead of answering his question, I asked, “You want me gone too?”
Tim drew in a breath and shook his head. “I want you to win, but you need to define what winning looks and feels like for yourself, and it has to be more than running Push. Ready or not, a transition is coming, and I need you to be just as attractive as Push is when it takes place. Think about what you really want. When the time comes, use the transition to live a little. Hell, go on some dates. Join a board, get involved in community service. Do things for yourself. You have a life outside of Push.”
But I didn’t. My life was Push.
I dropped my eyes to the uneaten french fries I had moved around on my plate. I knew where Tim was going with all of this, but it didn’t make me feel better. I felt like I was being gutted.
Tim took a final bite and laid down the remnants of his sandwich, then slurped the remainder of his soda.
“Let me make this crystal clear. This is not personal. The board is pushing for change. Profitability is the name of the game, and a public company’s goal is to find the best possible path to the highest revenue. We owe that to shareholders. If a new CEO or selling to the highest bidder offers the possibility of greater profits, that’s what the board will pursue. Professionally, I can’t stand in the way of that. Personally, when it comes to you, I want to make sure that no matter what, you land on your feet. I need you to be ready. Understand?”
I drew in a sharp breath and released it with a grunt. I understood. Was I ready? That was a different question altogether. I had become synonymous with Push. My company had turned me into someone who people respected. Doors opened for me because I was the founder. Before Push, I was just a kid working my ass off, trying to get as far away from my past as I could. Push gave me a life I never imagined living. Who would I be without my company?