Page 2 of Executive Decision
His tone felt genuine. He didn’t argue. He wasn’t reacting to my prickly, exhausted energy. How the hell was he always socalm?
I groaned. “Can I ask you a question then?”
“Sure,” Cal agreed.
“What would you do to engage them on integrations? Are you getting a feel for it working through branding? I know I haven’t even made it to that part with you, but… what is your read?”
Cal approached and sat across from me. “It’s a mess. If I were you, I’d start by telling your dad the CFO is a joke. You’ll confirm what everyone knows but hasn’t said yet.”
“Is that not cruel?”
“Nah. It’s business.”
I snickered. “Wow. I am… surprised.”
“By what?”
“You don’t seem like the ruthless type, Cal.”
Is it a trap?
I rolled a pen between my fingers, thinking through my next move. He stared through me in a way that made me fidget. His brown eyes searched me.
“I got where I am because I was honest. Be the ruthless one. Prove your worth by using your brain, Daphne. That is what David expects.”
“You make me sound like a tough bitch,” I said, annoyed.
He chuckled. “I would never call you a bitch. Iwouldcall you demanding and tough.”
That’s precisely how men call women a bitch in the boardroom without saying it!I bit my pen, frustrated.
Cal softened. “It’s a compliment. I wouldn’t give you advice and insight if I didn’t view you as a peer, Daphne.”
I couldn’t meet his gaze or trust his words.
“You don’t get a say in that. I don’t report to you,” I said.
“Well, if my opinion matters at all, I’d like you to stay.”
He couldn’t possibly know what the stakes were or how my internal battle over staying in Chicago dominated my life.
“I tell you what,” Cal continued. “As a goodwill gesture and because your brother is on my last fucking nerve, I’m grabbing food from the Lebanese place. I’ll pick up some for you, too. We can then sort through more of this mess.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“If we are both going to be hermits on a Friday night, we should eat well, Daphne.”
I remained cautious of his motivations, but was a sucker for a kebab. “Get me that kofta thing. And thanks.”
“Anytime. We’re a team, Daphne. We need to get this across the finish line.”
* * *
Cal
“Yeah, fuck them all,” Daphne snickered. “God, this is a mess. If I was in charge, I’d have all their heads. Sack them! Is that terrible?”
I watched Daphne Delphine scroll endlessly through emails. She bit her pen, wholly focused on keywords. How she knew what to look for, I didn’t know. She organized chaos and dove headfirst into any assignment. While people assumed he groomed Davey for greatness, I knew David prized Daphne above all even if she lacked her brother’s confidence.
