13. Aiden

CHAPTER 13

AIDEN

" A nd that is broadly where we stand," finishes Nicholas, his droning speech finally grating to a halt. I love the guy, but he's the picture of a generic businessman in a suit.

I take a sharp breath and blink hard, trying to wake my brain back up. With any luck, it looks like I've been processing what's been said instead of zoning out, which is what I'd really been doing. I barely heard a single thing that was said over the pit of fear that's opened up in my chest.

"So," I say slowly, dragging my eyes over the blank faces staring at me. It's like there's a whole school of sharks sitting there, waiting to eat me alive. Even if none of this is my fault — which it isn't — I'm still going to go down as the son who let his father's business crash and burn and fail.

Michael Fletcher's legacy deserves more than that.

"What are we going to do about it?" I ask, which receives nothing but more blank stares. I could be talking to a slab of concrete and get more out of it. "Anyone?"

A couple of people lean into each other and murmur things I'm clearly not meant to hear. I can guess what they're saying, though, and none of it is good. I look at Nicholas with wide eyes, hoping he'll say something else and fix everything.

He shrugs.

For the first time in my life, I am totally adrift. Nicholas has known me since I was a kid, a weird kind of lawyer uncle to me. He's probably breached hundreds of privacy laws telling me about various cases to entertain me as a teenager, and now I'm the boss I'm realizing I should probably find that kind of disturbing. But how can I? There's no one I trust more to look pensively at me and catch me when I fall.

Except now. Now it's like he's slowly cutting all the strings one by one, and I'm crumpling to the ground, out of control, spiraling…

I have to pull myself together. All these blank-faced men and women — lawyers and investors and accountants, the vast team of people I have around me — they're meant to agree with everything I do. But nothing in the world of business is about loyalty. The second one of them starts getting ideas above their station or quietly withdraws their support, that's when dominoes start to fall. That's when I'm going to face a coup.

"Okay," I say slowly. "Let's brainstorm. I'm open to anything here. What're Donnell's doing right now? Their shares have been down recently, but now they're back on the up again. Can we learn anything from them?"

There are more mumblings and I'm getting the urge to stand up and leave — when a small, red-headed woman stands up. Her nose is covered in freckles, and her cheeks are flushed with what I can only presume to be adrenaline. I think she's a junior accountant; she's kind of familiar to me but I have no idea what her name is.

I nod in a way I hope is encouraging, and she clears her throat. "They're doing a lot of work with start-ups and charity. They've taken a hit because their new smartphone did badly, but they're covering that with some really great PR."

"So, we copy that?" I ask.

Her blush deepens, but she has nothing to be embarrassed about. I don't see anyone else helping. "No, sir, that's copying. But… what if we bought some smaller companies outright? Merged them into us and gave them a new platform to stand on. Then not only do we look good in the press, but also that gives us chance to attract new investors for everyone."

"A win-win," I say quietly.

"With respect, sir," chips in Nicholas. "Mergers are a dangerous gamble."

"Who's got a better idea, then?" I say, perhaps a little more harshly than intended. I meet Nicholas's eye, and his expression doesn't waver from the firm, stern neutral one he's holding me in. It's clear enough that he doesn't agree with this plan, but he isn't giving me anything else.

I raise my eyebrows to try and express that, and though he doesn't look away, his frown deepens as he acquiesces to the inevitable. If this company is on its way down, we have to at least try something .

No one else says a word. Most people stare down at the table like I'm a teacher about to call on them in class when they haven't done their homework. I'm pretty sure they haven't. After all, everyone knew that this meeting was the how to fix Fletcher Tech meeting. I expected a least a little bit of input.

I might not have any ideas, but that's what I hire advisors for. To think for me.

"Okay, then. We're not leaving this room until I've got a list of potential assets. I want us to make calls today . You're all here for a reason, right? You're the best of the best, right?" A couple of people have the nerve to nod a little. I let my face drop into that old, angry expression my father used to adopt to scare people. The company isn't the only thing I inherited from him. "Then get to work. Or get out. I don't have time for you to waste."

There's a brief moment of stillness, then the room bursts to life. People pull out laptops and tablets, move chairs around to form little groups that I'm sure represent whatever cliques are going on outside my sphere. A hubbub of noise rises in the air, mixing with typing and papers shuffling. Finally, it looks like we might be back on the rise.

Nicholas sidles up to me, making me jump when he speaks. "This isn't a good idea, you know."

I sigh. "What else am I meant to do? You know as well as I do, this company's going to shit."

"Your father's reputation as a wise businessman may have been slightly exaggerated in places."

"You don't say?" I drag my hands over my face, rubbing my eyes. I need to shave. I want to have the world's longest shower and sleep for a million years, but I don't have that kind of luxury. "This is really bad, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Everything."

Nicholas hums, not committing to an outright answer, which only proves what everyone's already thinking. Quietly, I ask, "What do we do if this and it really does end badly?"

He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "We try something else."

It takes about twenty minutes for a long list of names to be emailed over to me. I skim through it, looking at dozens and dozens of companies I've never heard of. Suddenly this task seems utterly insurmountable. Even more impossible than before.

And then fate twists her cruel knife in my stomach, taking me back to years ago when a gorgeous blonde broke my heart because I ruined her life.

"This one," I say. "I'm going to call Candice Metcalf."