Chapter 4 - The Unraveling of the CEO
“Please, Wendy, just sign the papers,” Skyler pleaded, her voice cracking as she pulled me slightly away from Voss. “If you accept this job, Mom will finally stop treating you like a failure. You’ll have stability. And I promise I’ll be a good boss to you.”
The raw, heartbreaking irony of her words pierced my armor. Skyler was shaking, terrified of disappointing the very parents who were currently using her as a corporate sacrificial lamb.
“Skyler,” I said quietly, taking her hands. “Has anyone on the board shown you Larkfield’s full, unedited aging report for the last two quarters?”
She blinked, confused. “What do you mean? They said we’re expanding rapidly.”
“They lied to you,” I said flatly. “Your invoices are ninety days overdue across every major vendor. Your volume commitments have collapsed. The board didn't hire you because you're a visionary leader, Skyler. They hired you because you’re a naive outsider with a clean credit history, and they need you to wire a personal two-hundred-thousand-dollar check by Monday morning to cover payroll before the company files for Chapter 7 bankruptcy.”
Color drained completely from Skyler’s face. She staggered backward, her back hitting the exterior wall. “That’s... that’s not true. The board members are respected businessmen! They promised me equity!”
At that exact moment, the sliding glass door flew open, and my mother marched out onto the porch, trailed by an entourage of curious relatives.
“What is going on out here? Why isn't Wendy signing her contract?!” Mom shrieked, her face twisting in fury. She pointed a manicured finger at me. “Stop poisoning your sister’s mind with your bitter jealousy just because she’s a successful CEO and you pack flowers in a damp basement!”
Mom turned to Chairman Voss for backup. “Harlan, tell her! Tell this ungrateful failure how fortunate Skyler is to lead a prestigious company like Larkfield!”
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Harlan Voss looked at my mother, then at Skyler, and finally turned his terrified, submissive gaze toward me. He slowly removed his designer glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, completely broken.
“Mrs. Hayes,” Voss said, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that carried across the silent porch. “I cannot tell her anything of the sort. Because the woman standing in front of you... is the majority owner and supreme founder of Ashford Freight. Our primary logistics partner. If she decides to foreclose on our warehouses tomorrow morning, Larkfield Home Goods ceases to exist.”
