My Big Fat Fake Wedding(106)

I hate to say it, but he’s been right. In the last forty-eight hours, I’ve never thought so much. About what I’m doing, what I want, what my dreams are. I’m a damn psychology book of best-friend-supervised pseudo-therapy.

Even so, I’m doing what I’m doing today without his full support. He wants me to wait it out a bit longer, ride the storm and then make steps when things settle a bit. But I’m done waiting, done letting life take me wherever it sees fit.

I’m ready to captain the ship of my life. Finally, I realize, I’m ready.

And isn’t that the shit? Dad wanted me to grow up and follow in his footsteps. Well, I’m feeling pretty fucking grown right about now. It’s been a long time coming.

“You look like well-dressed shit,” Kaede replies, coming over and brushing off my shoulders. “The suit’s fresh . . . you’re welcome for that. But your shave sucks, and you’ve got bags under your eyes that’d qualify as checked suitcases. But other than that, you’re ready.”

I nod in appreciation of his honesty.

“You sure about this?” he asks for the tenth time this morning.

“I am.” I pause in the doorway. “Before we go in . . . I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you or held you back. If there’s anything I can do for you later on, if anyone gives you any shit about what we did—”

“Don’t sweat it,” Kaede says, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ll just tell them that my boss was an absolute psycho, which everyone will believe after the stuff they’ve been publishing, and I was but a loyal soldier who tried his best to stop the debauchery.” He throws his voice, almost into a woefully piss-poor imitation of a British accent.

I laugh finally, the first in days, and though it’s slight, Kaede takes the win. I offer him my hand. We shake, and he falls into step behind me as we take the elevator downstairs to the conference room. Two soldiers approaching the firing squad. We’ve been here before, a rag-tag team of two brothers facing down the other team on the football field, and later, the rest of the world, but now, we’re facing down our future.

It’s crowded in here today, because not only am I making my speech to the board, but there’s a TV camera to livestream this throughout the company and for the PR department to send out to the media just in case they want to chew on this case even more.

If I have any advantage in all of this, it’s that I’ve kept my speech to myself.

Dad, Courtney, the board . . . nobody knows what I’m about to say. Even Kaede doesn’t know all the particulars, although he knows the gist of it and helped me work out the framework of my speech. It wouldn’t have been fair to him otherwise.

The podium looks overwhelming, and as I set my tablet down on the metal surface, I have to take a few deep breaths in order to calm myself. As I do, I think about the one thing that matters the most, and as her face fills my mind, I find the strength to look up.

“Members of the board,” I say, looking over the accumulated stern-faced suits in the room, and then I glance to the camera. “And my fellow co-workers. Over the past week, I’ve been embroiled in a scandal that has reached much, much further than I ever thought possible. That scandal has brought embarrassment to this company and to my family, and for that, I am sorry.”

Bare-boned apologies while looking contrite, the start of any ‘oops, got caught’ press release . . . check. Time for a little personalization to make me seem human.

Is it bad that there’s a formula for this? Probably, but with everyone from presidents to corporate giants having to apologize for various things over the years, there’s actual science to back up the best way to save face when the shit hits the fan.

“I have spent my life as a representative of the Andrews name and this company. With that comes scrutiny and even lies. I’m sure you’ve all seen the headlines about my behavior, and certainly, the majority of those have been exaggerated, twisted, or flat-out made-up.” I pause, letting that sink in.

“Truthfully, I have always tried to do the right thing, act in what I felt was the best interest of the company, and I’ve never, ever intended to harm anyone else with my choices.” I swallow. “But the reality is, regardless of my good intentions, I have hurt the company and my family, and I will carry that burden with me for the rest of my life.”

I lean over the podium with practiced ease, making it seem like it’s only me and a small group of people speaking intimately. “May I speak frankly?”

There are a few raised eyebrows at my sudden change of tone and words, and down at the end of the front row, Dad tenses, looking like he’s about to jump up and cut me off if I push the line.

Thing is, I’m not going to push the line. I plan on obliterating the fucking thing.

“A few weeks ago, it was suggested to me by people in this room and in shareholder groups that I needed to settle down. They chose to believe the lies printed about me over the truth, and their worries about image and stock prices seemed more important than my own integrity. I ‘took one for the team’, as it’s said. I wanted to show that I was fit to run this company one day, willing to do whatever was needed to see that happen. I worried that without me, this company that my family built would suffer, that it would lose the path that it’s followed for decades now. Ironically, I see now that my plan was nothing more than the ultimate expression of my unfitness.”