A sharp gasp echoed down the line. “Two hundred and fifty million?” Nina whispered. “We don’t have that in liquidity. Not even close. Payroll is on Friday!”
“Well,” I said, resting my cheek against my knuckles. “Martin wanted to modernize leadership. Let’s see how his slides look when the bank freezes our clearing accounts at noon.”
Part 3: The Boardroom Anatomy
Upstairs, the boardroom looked less like an executive suite and more like a crime scene.
Martin Vale’s slim gray suit was no longer immaculate. The jacket was draped over the back of a leather chair, his silk tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up in a pathetic imitation of my grandfather’s portrait downstairs. He was bright red in the face, leaning so far over the mahogany table that his nose was nearly touching the speakerphone.
