I kept my fingers moving because motion was easier than emotion. The boardroom hummed with the practiced confidence of people who believed the room had always belonged to them, like the air came deeded with the square footage. Leather chairs sighed when executives shifted.
The projector fan whirred. And on the side credenza, a stainless coffee carafe wore a little American-flag magnet—crooked, sun-faded, the kind you’d pick up at a highway rest stop—like someone had tried to make corporate caffeine patriotic. Out in the hallway, a Bluetooth speaker at reception let Sinatra’s voice slide through “Let It Snow,” tinny and brave, while a red bow was taped to the WILLIAMS & ASSOCIATES—Family Since 1988 placard with the kind of cheer you put on a package you don’t actually want to open.
It was December 23, the day offices pretend to be gentle. The lobby smelled like pine-scented cleaner and iced tea from someone’s overambitious holiday spread. Inside this room, the air was only numbers and heat.
I sat near the corner—close enough to see the screen, far enough to be mistaken for scenery—and typed anyway. That was the first decision I made that morning: keep taking notes. Dad took the head seat without glancing left or right, the way a general takes a hill after too many campaigns to feel terrain anymore.
His suit was the same charcoal one he wore to bank meetings and funerals, as if he’d decided those were the only two kinds of events worth dressing for. Marcus sat to his right—Rolex catching the winter light, ankle on knee—easy confidence in a body that had never been told to leave a room. Jennifer ran the room.
She always had. “This is the one that puts us on the map,” she said, clicking to a slide titled Market Consolidation: Regional Leadership Pathway. The serif font had been chosen to look inevitable.
“A fifty-million-dollar acquisition of Paxon Manufacturing positions us as the supplier of record for three of the top five accounts in the Midwest. By Q3 next year, we’re looking at an eight-point lift in market share and a clean run rate to three-twenty by year-end. Operational synergies, blended cost of capital—we’ve quantified the savings.”
Her voice was clean, trained, filled with the assurance of someone told since childhood that her thoughts mattered in rooms like this.
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