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Annihilate Him, Volume 3

Page 5

by Christina Ross


  “I want out of this hospital, Barbara.”

  “And I want you to understand that it’s not all about you or what you want.”

  My eyes widened at her sharp tone.

  “Look, I get it, OK?” she said. “I understand where all of this is coming from. But you need to stop. Tank is probably already on the phone with Rowe’s security chief. Alex is still in the conference room coming to terms with where Wenn is now, and likely formulating his own ideas about how to get his company back. Your job is to rest.”

  We locked eyes for several moments, and then I just took a breath. “I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch,” I said.

  “Apparently, you can give even me a run for my money. But running at one hundred miles per hour isn’t going to fix what really needs to be fixed. You and I have talked about that. But, as close as we may be, we’re not as close as you and Lisa. So, I’m going to get your best friend for you, and you two are going to talk while I go to the doctor and see if getting you out of here early is an option. If it isn’t, I’m going to expect you to be on your best behavior. For your husband’s sanity. All right?”

  “I could probably use Lisa right now.”

  “I thought you could. She’ll be in in a few seconds. Now, here—give me a kiss. That’s right. And Jesus do you need a mint.”

  “Hilarious.”

  “Don’t ever underestimate the power of humor,” she said. “The alternative is always worse.”

  And then Blackwell swept out of the room as only Blackwell could.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT to come in here?” I asked Lisa when she stepped inside. “You’ve probably heard the rumors by now—you might not leave alive.”

  She screwed up her face at me. “What does that mean? Of course I want to be in here with you. I’ve been dying to see you. And look,” she said, holding up a glass of water. “I bring liquid!”

  “I’ll give you a hundred dollars right now if you can turn that liquid into vodka.”

  As she closed the door behind her and stepped beside my bed, she shook her head at me. “Sorry, lovey, but that’s not happening. Though I do have this.” She held out her hand, and in it was a mint wrapped in cellophane. “Blackwell gave it to me. She said that you needed one.”

  I rolled my eyes at that, and as Lisa leaned down toward me so I could take a sip of the water, I found it cold and wet and necessary. “I can’t believe she gave you a mint.”

  “It’s Blackwell,” she said, sitting beside me. “What do you expect?”

  “A slap across my ass, for one thing. I’m afraid I’m not being a very good patient.”

  “Why would you be? Look at what you’ve been through.”

  “No, I’ve crossed a few lines, which I regret. I’ve had these moments when I’ve become very difficult to people who are only trying to help me. I need to start apologizing—and fast—because I’m coming on way too strong. I’m not myself, but that’s no excuse. I hate how I’m behaving. This isn’t who I am.”

  “I think just about everyone here is willing to give you a few very big passes.”

  “And I’m telling you that I’ve burned through all of them.”

  “How so?”

  I told her about my treatment of Alex, Tank, and Blackwell.

  “All right, so it will be awhile before you can pass Go again.”

  “I just kept demanding things. I was in a terrible state, and I feel awful about it.”

  “I would imagine that you’re feeling a lot of things right now, and that those feelings are getting the best of you. I doubt that anyone is taking it personally. Lighten up on yourself.”

  I smiled at her. “I’ve missed you. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine. So is everyone else, with the exception of Alex. He’s as upset as you are. And why wouldn’t he be? I’m so sorry, Jennifer.”

  Tears stung my eyes when she said that. “So am I.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’m talked out at this point. And whenever I do talk about it, anger takes over and I become a monster filled with displaced rage.”

  “How does your shoulder feel?”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not in much pain.”

  “I heard the doctor talking to Alex. Apparently, you have five stitches in front, six in back, and some internal stitching to help mend the damage done to the muscle. The good news is that the muscle wasn’t damaged as badly as it could have been, so you should heal well and relatively quickly.” She shrugged. “At least that’s what I gathered from what I overheard, and believe me, I was eavesdropping.”

  “You’ve heard about Wenn?”

  “I have. And there’s no need to talk about it. You’ll just get upset again.”

  “If I did, I’d at least give you something to write about. You think you know monsters? You haven’t seen me at my worst. Your zombies have nothing on me. I could inspire your next book.”

  “Oh, Jennifer.”

  I reached out for her hand. “I really had hope, you know? Minor spotting. No major signs that I’d lost the child other than the initial cramping, which likely is when I did lose it. But that ended so quickly, I went through those next two weeks with real hope that the baby was OK. I had lingering doubts, of course, but because I didn’t have my period, I thought that maybe somehow the love Alex and I had for that child was enough to help pull it through. Somehow, I thought we were going to be all right. And then I came here. And then I learned the news. I’d be lying if I said that I was in a total shock, but it came pretty close to that, Lisa. That’s how naive and deluded I was. And how disappointed.”

  “Actually, that’s how human you are.”

  “Everyone keeps talking about us just having another baby, as if that will take away the pain. And to be fair, I was right there with them when they were saying it, believing that the sooner we got pregnant again, the sooner we could move on. But the more I think of it, the more I know that it doesn’t work like that. There are no easy fixes here. But there are risks.”

  “What risks?”

  “What if I lose the next child? And if I do, how is that going to affect my marriage to Alex, the one person in this world who means everything to me? And please don’t take that the wrong way—you also mean everything to me. It’s just that he’s my husband.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Look—I get it. The love I have for Tank is different from the love I have for you. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you just as much as I love him—if that makes any sense.”

  “It does.”

  “So, where do we go from here?” she asked.

  I looked up at the ceiling and took a breath. “I need to get on with it,” I said. “I need to accept the loss, feel it, grieve it, and move on. What other choice do I have? I can wallow in self-pity and mourning for a good year or more, but where will that get me? Not to a good place, I can tell you that.”

  “I think that’s the right answer.”

  “Then, I guess I need to do the work.” I shook my head at her. “Anyway, let’s change the subject. I know what I have to do, and I’ll do what it takes. It’s not going to be easy, though. For Alex or me.”

  “But you have each other.”

  “And thank God that we do.”

  “So,” she said. “Change of subject?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “What’s all this I keep hearing about Stephen Rowe?” she asked.

  “Are you sure you want to go there? Just hearing his name is enough to make me grow another head.”

  “Only if you want to.”

  “Apparently, he’s running Wenn now,” I said. “The board thought we were dead, and he was voted in as the new CEO and chairman of the board. Alex still has a seat on the board because he has controlling shares, but it’s not the same. He no longer runs Wenn. Rowe does—for now at least.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Have I ever told you
what I know about Rowe?”

  “You haven’t.”

  “Then get ready for me to get angry again,” I said. “Because when I tell you what I know about him, you’ll see where my focus is about to go. And why I plan to publicly crush him.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT SEEMED LIKE HOURS passed before Alex returned to my room, and when he did, it was clear by the surprised look on his face that he saw I hadn’t exactly been sitting idle.

  “What’s this?” he asked with a smile as he closed the door behind him.

  “A bed,” I said, nodding at the bed sitting beside mine. “I wanted you to sleep next to me tonight and not alone in another room, so I asked one of the nurses to bring in a rollaway. I hope that you don’t mind. I’d like you near me tonight.”

  “Why would I mind? You know that I want to be with you.” He nudged the bed aside with his hip and bent down to kiss me on the lips. Then he reached for one of the chairs, and moved it so he could sit next to me.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult,” I said.

  “How have you been difficult?”

  “I think we both know.”

  “You’re emotional for good reason. So am I. But we’re also a team. We will get through this, Jennifer.”

  “I know we will,” I said. And then I decided it would be best to talk about other things. “Tell me some good news. You’ve been gone for awhile. What have you learned?”

  “Lot’s of things.”

  “Care to share?”

  “How about if I just cover the major items?”

  “Sounds fair to me.”

  “Let’s start with Wei Jei. Are you ready for this?”

  “Oh, God...”

  “No, it’s actually good news. While we were on the island, he came through with the memory chips we needed for the SlimPhone.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. I can’t believe it myself. Before we crashed, he obviously took to heart my threat of involving lawyers, because he made a deal with another company here in Singapore that will supply him with the chips we need until he can get up to speed and meet the supply on his own.”

  “Can’t say I saw that one coming,” I said.

  “Neither did I, but when I spoke with Ann, that was one of the first business-related items she brought up. I called Wei Jei, he confirmed it, and I thanked him for doing the right thing.”

  “So, the SlimPhone didn’t miss a beat when it came to meeting demand?”

  “Not for a second.”

  “Where is our stock at this point?”

  “Up,” he said. “When it was announced that we were alive, it shot up thirty-four points when the market closed. In after-market trading, we were up another sixteen points.”

  I closed my eyes at the news. “Finally,” I said. “Something good to hold on to. And the stocks reacted positively because investors heard that you are alive. That you’re coming back to Wenn. You’re Wenn’s DNA, for God’s sake, and they know it. That’s got to send a message to the board.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “About the board.”

  “What about them?”

  “Apparently, Stephen Rowe called an emergency meeting not long after it was discovered that we were alive.”

  “I’ll bet he did. Do you happen to know what was said?”

  “I made a call to Jonathan Rubinstein. You might remember him—senior member of the board? One of my father’s oldest friends? He’s the one you charmed before you had your memorable dance with Rowe.”

  “The owner of Qualcomm Micro? That nice, older gentleman whose company is in the process of developing a memory chip that will best Wei Jei’s?”

  “That’s him. You suggested to him that Wenn might think about using the chip for future versions of the SlimPhone. And in the process, you won him over.”

  “Money talks,” I said.

  “It’s more than that when it comes to you, love.”

  “What did he have to say?”

  “Two things. First, he told me that Rowe said that, while he was glad that we were alive, that he thought it would be best for Wenn if I no longer had a seat on the board. He said that a ‘strategic, clean break with me and Wenn would send a strong message to shareholders that Wenn is going forward with new ideas that will be easier to accomplish without my presence.’”

  “But you have controlling shares. By Wenn’s bylaws alone, that secures you a seat on the board.”

  “There’s one exception.”

  “What exception? I wasn’t aware that there was an exception. I thought if you had controlling shares, a seat on the board was a done deal.”

  “It isn’t. That seat can be taken from me by a unanimous vote, which Rowe went for but didn’t get. In fact, when he put the measure forward, his was the only affirmative vote to shut me out of Wenn. He may be leading Wenn now, but he lost that round. My seat on the board is secure.”

  Just the thought of what Rowe had tried to do to Alex made me bristle with anger. “He wanted you off that board because of my threat.”

  “And so he could run Wenn without interruption from me, but, yes, I agree—your threat to expose him also played into it. He wants to get as far away from each of us as possible. And who can blame him?”

  “Unbelievable. What else did Jonathan have to say?”

  “That the board should have given us more time to be found.”

  “So why didn’t they?”

  “To be fair to them, they had no choice. When the authorities essentially pronounced us dead, Jonathan had to go with the rest of the board and cave in to pressure from investors to elect a new CEO and board chair. Rowe pushed hard for each job. He fought for them. Because he’s young and seen as someone filled with fresh ideas—and because no one else on the board wanted either position—the vote went to him. Jonathan now regrets it. He says they should have stood firm and allowed for more time to pass to see if we were alive. He says they should have waited for proof that we were dead before giving in to investor demand.”

  “How many others feel that way?”

  “He didn’t say, though he suggested that others do, especially now that they know we’re alive. After Rowe’s impromptu meeting in which he tried to vote me off the board, Jonathan says that some are starting to find Rowe’s leadership style too aggressive for their tastes. Tom Brown is perhaps my second-strongest ally. You met him the same night you met Jonathan.”

  “I remember him—another of your father’s old friends.”

  “Apparently, when Rowe brought forward the idea of denying me a seat on the board, Tom gave Rowe a piece of his mind about it, just as Jonathan did.”

  “Good for them, though I’m not surprised. Those two men are an extension of your family.” I studied Alex for a moment. “I need to ask you a question.”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “How important is it for you to be chairman of the board?”

  “If it comes down to it, someone other than Rowe can have that job. That one isn’t the prize. But CEO is.”

  “All right. So answer me this—do you want to be CEO?”

  He looked surprised by that. “Of course I do.”

  “I only ask because earlier you said that Wenn was your father’s child and that you just inherited it. You called it a thing, as if it meant nothing to you.”

  “Earlier, neither of us was thinking clearly. I was concerned about you—not Wenn. You’re my priority. You’ll always be my priority. But now, it’s different. Now that I know that you’re going to be OK, I can turn at least part of my focus to Wenn.”

  “And as a bonus, you know exactly who Stephen Rowe is.”

  “That I do. Look, despite how I inherited Wenn—my father killing my mother before shooting himself—over the years I’ve put a hell of a lot of work into running it. When I was a kid, it’s true—I didn’t want it. But now I can’t imagine being without it. It’s become dear to me.”

  “We can get it back. All we need to do is prov
e that Rowe has had a two-year affair with Janice Jones, and threaten him with a scandal. He’ll back down.”

  “And how do we get that proof?”

  I told him about the conversation I had with Tank and Blackwell earlier, and what I expected from Tank going forward. “Tank, Blackwell, and I agree that Rowe’s already jettisoned Janice from his life. Maybe sent her packing with a sweet check, a peck on the cheek, and a promise that there’s more to come if she remains silent. But before we even go there, let me ask you this: If we take Janice Jones out of the equation, what can be done to get you back as CEO?”

  “Not much. The vote has been made, and that vote put Rowe into his current position. At this point, he’d have to be voted out of that seat, and that’s where Jonathan said the board is divided as to what to do. If there was a revote now, he’s not certain that I’d win it.”

  “Why?”

  “Public perception. Right now, more than ever, Wenn needs to be viewed as a solid, healthy company that’s not in flux. The fact that I’m remaining on the board might be enough to appease investors that I still have a voice in leading Wenn—which I would, to a point. But the truth we can’t ignore is that on paper, Rowe doesn’t stink. It’s his personal life that reeks, but nobody knows about that. Otherwise, investors might actually see the benefit of having a new CEO and board chair, particularly after all of the backlash that came in the wake of the cost of the SlimPhone. As successful as our phone has been since its launch, investors won’t fully embrace it until we have hard data to prove that the R&D was worth it, and that the phone is turning a significant profit.”

  “Which it will.”

  “I agree, but I’m still vulnerable in the short term. Right now, even if I made a personal appeal to investors to reclaim my position as CEO, Jonathan believes that the fight Stephen Rowe would publicly put up would only harm Wenn’s stock, which has been battered enough. And that’s something we can’t let happen. We can’t do anything that might cripple Wenn.”

 

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