“Someone demanded a special meeting of the ownership. Dad is furious. Was that you?”
“Maybe someone just has questions about how the company is being run. Owners are allowed to do that.”
Pause. Then Lauren spoke again, but in a different tone, less sharp:
“If you’re planning something, stop. This is not your lane.”
“Thanks for the concern, Lauren.”
Click.
Twenty minutes later, footsteps thundered down the hall. Michael rushed past the copy room without turning his head. His office door slammed so hard the binders on the shelf rattled. The wall between the copy room and the executive office was drywall. Claire heard every word.
“Ridiculous, Susan. Margaret’s bored in retirement. No, I’m not worried… Claire? What does Claire have to do with any of this? She’s afraid to reboot a printer. We’ll sort this out before lunch. My coffee won’t even have time to get cold.”
Claire stood on the other side of the wall, and in her $20 backpack was an envelope worth $5 million. She looked at her reflection in the dark monitor and realized she was smiling. That evening she spread out three sets of documents on the table: state registry records, copies of the inheritance certificate, the audio recording on her phone, and the two-page meeting demand Reed had reviewed.
Jenna looked into the room, saw the paperwork, and let out a low whistle.
“You gearing up for war?”
“For work.”
“On a Saturday?”
On May 18, at 9:45 a.m., Claire stood outside the boardroom in a borrowed blazer two sizes too big, sleeves rolled up. Thrift-store briefcase. Inside were documents worth more than the building.
The security guard ran his finger down the list on his tablet. Once. Twice. Three times.
“You’re not on the list. Why don’t you have a seat at reception and get some water.”
“I’m not from admin. Please call Margaret Lawson. She’s expecting me.”
The guard picked up the phone.
“There’s a young woman here… says it’s about the meeting,” he said in the tone people use for a misplaced umbrella.
Lauren came around the corner. Business suit, silk scarf, heels.
“Claire? What are you doing here?”
“I have information for the meeting.”
“What information? You spent two years in the copy room. You don’t even know what ROI is—return on investment. Or EBITDA—earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization. Want me to keep going?”
“I had a lot of free time in the copy room.”
Lauren opened her mouth. Closed it. For the first time in her life, Claire saw her sister without a ready answer. Then Michael stepped out of the elevator.
“Claire, go back to your desk.”
“Michael,” Margaret said from the boardroom doorway, “I invited Claire. She has a statement for the meeting.”
“This is a family matter!”
“It’s a corporate matter. She is the majority owner. Or would you like to challenge her right to attend the meeting she herself called?”
