KATHERINE
October bled into November with trees shedding their red and orange leaves. My life was full between helping Erland with school, hiding my true position in the company from Grey and Leya, and working with Shane to prepare the business proposal.
Now, on the day the Committee would decide my fate, I was ready.
Tucking my portfolio under my arm, I stepped out of my bedroom and crept downstairs. The clock above the stairs read 5:30am, the sun barely pinking the sky. The cold flood against my soles made me shiver as I reached the kitchen.
I gasped, scattering my papers as I jumped back. "Who's there?"
Matthew's baritone voice greeted me. "Relax." He turned on the light, holding his palms toward me. "I knew you'd be getting up early, so I made you some coffee."
The warm, aromatic scent reached me, but it didn't stop my racing heart. "Thank you," I stammered.
Matthew bent down to help me pick up my papers, then handed me a cup of coffee.
"Stay for a minute," he said. "I have to get something before you go."
I slid into the barstool and watched Matthew's back disappear up the stairs. Moments later, a door slammed and quick footsteps sounded—followed by a bed-headed Erland sweeping around the corner. "You're leaving?" He stared at me, wide-eyed. "Without saying goodbye?"
"I didn't want to wake you up before the meeting," I said. "I know you have a project coming up for science."
Erland shrugged his shoulders, raising his arms. "So what? I'm almost done—and I would rather see my sister impress an entire boardroom over having to lecture the entire class on fossils." He crossed his arms, holding back a yawn. "I'm coming."
I chanced a glance at Matthew, whose mouth twitched as if he were holding back a smile. "So what's what you had to get, huh?"
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I figured he was necessary."
I glanced between them. My brother's stiff shoulders had relaxed somewhat, his face going from accusatory to pleading. Matthew's expression boasted of silent confidence as he finally let out a heart-melting grin. I let out a sigh. "Go get dressed," I said. "You're not going with me dressed in Spider Man pajamas."
Erland ran upstairs, almost bowling Matthew over on his way out of the kitchen.
I looked at him over my cup of coffee. "You shouldn't have called him this early."
Matthew put the cream and sugar before me. "But you're grateful I did."
I stirred my coffee. "You're spoiling him," I said, pointing my spoon toward the stairs. "First, his own console, now a flight to Pennsylvania?"
"You could go, too," he answered, "if you'd let me get the ticket when I asked."
I shook my head. "I appreciate the offer, Matt," I said, "but I can't accept. I'm already paying less than I should for rent, you're letting me use your car...there's so much I can't pay back."
Matthew gave me a look I couldn't read. "Kat," he started, reaching forward for my hand, "you—"
"Ready!" Erland barreled into the kitchen.
Whatever had come over Matthew dissipated, but not before he threw me a warm grin.
I glanced at my watch. "Meeting is at 7:30. Erland, want to help me set up my presentation in the boardroom?"
"Can I get ask the secretary to get a donut?" He asked.
I shot him a wry grin. "Sure, come on."
We left the house and piled into Matthew's car. The sun's golden rays peered over the bare treetops like a yellow yolk set in a white-blue sky. The trip, so familiar over the months, flew by like a dream; within fifteen minutes, Matthew had parked in front of Wayward Publishing, and Erland and I had stepped out.
"I'll be praying for you," said Matthew, shooting me a smile from the driver's seat.
"Thank you," I said, squeezing his hand. "I'll call you later."
Erland and I entered the building and made it to the top floor—the offices. So early in the morning, even the secretary, Stephanie, was half-asleep at her desk, propping up her head with her hands, elbows on the desk.
Erland whistled in appreciated when we entered my office. He gravitated to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the drowsy city. "Looks nice, Kat," he said. "I knew Wayward was nice, but I didn't think you were so loaded."
"We won't be any more if I can't pull off this presentation." Now that we were here, the moment creeping closer and closer, anxiety choked my airway.
Erland looked at me, suddenly serious. "You'll be fine, Kat. You know the numbers inside and out. Matthew's a contract lawyer, and if he said you've got it," he said, "you've got it."
I offered a weak smile. "Thanks, Er."
We spent the first hour organizing the papers from my portfolio. I sent him downstairs a few times to make copies on the sixth floor, where I usually worked during the day. He was less likely to be spotted by Octavia or one of the board members and questions. The past few months has been difficult hiding my affiliation with the company, but Grey was loyal to a fault. He covered my work without asking questions. I owed him more than just lunch.
In the time that Erland was preparing the packets, I went to the thirtieth floor and plugged my computer into the projector. Then, I placed a pen by every desk with the name of the project—Wayward Teens: Back Home—only to come up one pen short.
How could that be? There were seven board members, and with Nick, Octavia, and me, that would make ten. But eleven chairs?
I'll ask Stephanie when I meet Erland upstairs with the copies. Finishing up the boardroom, I headed to my office.
Voices greeted me when the elevator doors opened. Stephanie, up from her desk, stood between a blond-haired man and the door to my office, holding up her arms to stop him from spying the name beside the door. When he spoke, voice taut with frustration, I recognized him.
Grey.
And there was Erland, a few steps behind him, standing straight as a pencil, though his arms seemed to tremble a bit. He had gone white, his face almost ghost-like beneath his mop of brown hair. He glanced at me when I entered.
"Kat, thank God you're here."
Grey turned, and froze. I could see the gears turning behind his frustrated expression, quickly shifting into confusion. "Katherine?"
I swallowed. "Yes, Grey. It's me." My heels clicked on the floor as I came up to greet him. I gestured to Erland. "He's with me. My brother."
Grey's gaze jumped between me and Erland. "He was making copies downstairs..."
"I told him to." I cleared my throat and nodded at Stephanie. "Thank you, Steph. I'll take it from here."
She stepped aside back to her desk. I gestured for Erland to go with her. He shot me a worried glance as he walked away, but he didn't protest.
That left me with my coworker. We'd worked side by side since September, and he wasn't just a peer anymore, but a friend. Maybe that's what made the betrayal in his eyes cut deeper.
"Come in." I opened the door. "This is my office."
Grey's eyes shot to the name on the door: Katherine Malloy. He spoke softly, but I caught his words nonetheless.
"Yes," I said. "I'm the other shareholder. Come in and I'll tell you what I can."
My admission seemed to trigger something in him. Grey stepped back, hands curling into fists. His cheeks turned red. "So I guess I wasn't worthy enough to know the truth, huh?" He glared at me.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What defense did I have? Truth be told, Grey may have spilled to me the details of Wayward early on, but he was as tight-lipped as a clam.
Even so, I couldn't trust him. Or anyone. Not with this.
He walked past me, and I found myself turning as if to go after him, but his words made me go cold. "Don't bother coming back down with the little guys, Katherine," he said, not looking at me. "We don't want you either."
Then he left.
Oh, God, would he tell Leya?
As soon as the thought crossed my head, I ignored it. No, he wouldn't. He was angry, he had a temper, but he would come around eventually.
Besides, it was almost 7am. I couldn't worry about that now.
As soon as the elevator doors closed behind Grey, Erland rushed up to my side. "I'm so sorry, Kat. I could've sworn the place was empty, but then he saw me and I couldn't explain why I was there and—"
I put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Erland. Come on."
We went downstairs to the conference room and finished the last preparations: placing packets on each chair, testing the presentation on the projector, and practicing with my laser pointer. At 7:15am, I sent Erland back up to my office.
I took a deep breath, placing my hands on the back of the chair, and closed my eyes.
Dear God, please help me. I can't do this on my own.
The elevator dinged on the floor and my eyes shot open. Here came the first board member. It was a nice older lady who had supported me in my first meeting. She smiled brightly and took a seat.
Within the next ten minutes, the entire boardroom filed in. Even Nick was right on time, settling in on the other side of the table. He glanced through the packet, met my gaze, then looked away.
At 7:40am, two more entered the boardroom: Octavia Beardsley, followed by none other than Richard Chase.
My blood froze. The eleventh seat.
Of course.
Octavia fixed her steel-gray gaze on me and sank into the seat directly in front of me. Rick wouldn't meet my gaze as he sat in the seat I had decided to leave empty.
"Good morning," I started, swallowing my emotions with a smile. "Today marks three months of my being at Wayward. In this time, I've dedicated my efforts to finding new outlets for the growth of the company. Before you, you will find a packet containing a strategic business plan for the initiative tentatively named Wayward Teens: Back Home. This project is meant to support and encourage youth in town, while drawing back those who may have left before."
I clicked to the next slide. "As you'll see here and on page 20, Wayward City has seen a decline in the population of about 15% over the past few years...." I went on, explaining the drop in the population, and how Wayward Publishing could be the lynchpin holding the city together to reach new heights.
Where before, many Committee members had ignored my presentation, now they either watched me with rapt interest or studied the proposal in front of them.
At the end, many were nodding. Even Rick, who hadn't looked up from Octavia's copy of the proposal, stole a glance at me when I opened the floor to questions.
One Committee member who had been very vocal against my idea came out now. "Can you explain the pilot program?"
I nodded, beaming, and went on. "In short," I said, finishing, "this will be a way to mentor teens to reach the industry without the usual influences."
Many Committee members started to discuss a vote in favor of testing the pilot program before conducting the full initiative. To my surprise, even Nick cast his vote in my favor.
Even so, they eventually all turned to Octavia. She alone held the power to save or kill my project—my future at Wayward. She'd nodded along with some of the other members up until now, but as she scrutinized the proposal in Rick's hands, I wondered if she was really sold on the idea.
She met my gaze.
"No."
An audible intake of breath. Many Committee members glanced between her and me, shocked. I swallowed down the protests on my tongue, remembering Shane's advice: Be formal, be polite, especially when your opponent speaks against you.
"To what?" I asked, clasping my hands. "As I said in the proposal, we can start with the pilot program and then discuss developing the project further—"
Octavia sighed, cutting me off. "The whole thing, Ms. Malloy," she said. "Wayward has already invested substantial funds in the new Pennsylvania branch. We've already secured a building and hired a staff."
"This won't cost nearly as much," I countered. "The pilot program would only be—"
"No." Octavia stood, addressing the Committee now. "As you know, today marks Ms. Malloy's three months here—and the end of her agreement with selling her shares." She opened her portfolio, handing out papers to the staff. To her credit, she even gave me one. My hands trembled.
She went on. "Four years ago, Ms. Malloy agreed that if she did not contribute substantially to the company, that she could be bought out for the price of the company at the time. As it stands, her portion would be two million dollars."
I involuntarily sucked in a breath, cheeks reddening when a few eyes shot to me.
"While she has presented a worthy business plan for the future," she said, "Ms. Malloy has not contributed to the business up to this point. In essence, she is in breach of the agreement, which opens up her shares to a partner who would be able to invest in the company." She nodded to Rick, who stood beside her now.
He cleared his throat. "I'll buy her shares," he said. "I grew my company, Chase Industries, from a hundred thousand dollars to over ten millions in five years. I can do the same here."
Many Committee members nodded. My heart jumped into my throat.
Nick frowned. "Ms. Malloy presented a solid plan, Octavia," he countered. "Give her a chance."
Octavia fixed a steely glare on him. "She's already had one. Four years, to be accurate." She turned to the Committee. "I ask that you review the growth in our company in the past year. During that time, we were under discussion with Mr. Chase. How much growth have we seen?" She addressed each member in turn, some of who glanced to me with a pitying look.
"I would rather stick with a trusted partner than someone we don't know," she added.
Nick looked like he was about to come to my defense, but I shook my head. Not here. Oh no, if he revealed our past in front of everyone, I would be mortified.
"Ms. Malloy and Mr. Chase," said the older woman who smiled at me earlier, "would you please step out while the we discuss the matter?"
Reluctantly, I followed Rick out of the room. The door closed behind us with a click.
I looked at him. He looked as presentable as always—dark hair combed back, only one button done on his blazer—but he shifted his weight back and forth. When I met his gaze, I expected to see the yellow eyes of a snake, but they were as blue-green as the ocean, and just as bright.
"Katherine," he started, voice hoarse. He trailed off.
Of course he couldn't say anything. What else would he do? Somehow, here he was, the man who was cheating on my best friend. The one who'd stolen my book to publish it here. How was he so connected to Wayward?
My mind flashed back to Nick's distance from Victoria I saw a few months ago. Their arguments, the distrust, the unrest bubbling below the surface.
Then the idea speared me like the familiar sea-glass glare that pierced me the last time I saw her.
Victoria.
Of course.
Rick was having an affair with her. I gasped and Rick looked at me with concern.
I stepped away, backtracking from him. "You," I hissed. "You're a liar, you terrible son of—"
The doors opened and I snapped my mouth shut. Even so, I couldn't help that my whole body was trembling. I sank my teeth into my lip to keep from crying in frustration, betrayal.
"We've reached a decision," said the older woman. She stepped aside to let us in.
Octavia was the only one standing now, a grim look on her face. I couldn't bear to look at Nick for fear that I might spit out the truth in front of everyone about his wife—or that I might laugh in his face for his sheer dumb luck—so I focused my gaze on Octavia's necklace.
"Katherine Malloy," said Octavia, "you are no longer to be a part of Wayward Publishing. Your shares will be moved, effective immediately, to an escrow account pending the transaction." Her lips curved up a bit, as if in a smirk. "You'll be stripped of your office, but the process won't be finished for a few months."
I swallowed and forced myself to answer. "And in the meantime?"
Octavia smiled fully now. "In the meantime, you can work with Leya doing the job that you were hired for."