Chapter 11 Boardroom
The Voss Global boardroom occupied the entire top floor of the company’s headquarters.
A long table made of dark wood sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by windows on three sides.
From where Alex stood near the entrance, the city looked impossibly far below.
He had never worked in a building this tall.
He had never attended a meeting where the table alone probably cost more than his old apartment.
And he definitely had never walked into a room knowing twelve people were waiting to decide whether he belonged there.
Alex arrived ten minutes early.
Elena had insisted.
“Being late will make things worse,” she’d told him that morning.
“What if I’m early?”
“Then you’ll have ten minutes to panic privately.”
He’d laughed at the time.
He wasn’t laughing now.
The moment he walked in, he realized ten minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to prepare for this.
Twelve board members.
Twelve pairs of eyes followed him from the doorway to his seat.
Some were curious.
Some were skeptical.
A few were openly hostile.
Alex tried not to react.
His chair was at the foot of the table rather than the head, even though the title attached to his name suggested he should have been somewhere much more important.
He didn’t mind.
The farther away from the center of attention, the better.
For now.
Alex had read the briefing materials Delphine gave him the night before.
Twice.
He had highlighted several pages.
Then he had gone back and read the highlighted sections again.
He understood maybe a third of them.
The rest might as well have been written in another language.
He knew basic business.
He knew what revenue meant.
He knew what expenses were.
He understood that companies needed to make more money than they spent.
Beyond that, Voss Global seemed to operate in an entirely different universe.
The door closed behind him.
Constance Ferrow looked up.
She was an older woman with silver hair and an expression that carried the tired patience of someone who had spent years dealing with corporate disasters.
“Mr. Tailor.”
She gestured toward the empty seat.
“Welcome.”
“Thank you.”
Alex sat.
Constance glanced around the room.
“We’ll begin with the quarterly shipping division report. Then we’ll move to the item on today’s agenda that requires your input.”
Alex nodded.
He had no idea what the item was.
He opened his folder.
The meeting began.
It took less than ten minutes for Alex to realize something.
He had no idea what anyone was talking about.
The vocabulary alone was enough to lose him.
Acronyms.
Figures.
Division names.
Financial projections.
Regional allocations.
Supply agreements.
Terms Alex had heard before but never understood in this particular context.
People talked, nodded, interrupted occasionally, and moved on as if everything made perfect sense.
Alex tried to keep up.
He really did.
He took notes.
He wrote down words he didn’t understand so he could look them up later.
He watched the people around the table for clues.
When someone nodded, he nodded too.
When someone frowned, he tried to figure out why.
At one point, a director began discussing a shipping contract involving three countries.
Alex stared at the numbers on the screen.
Millions.
Then more millions.
He thought about his old warehouse job.
At Ferris, a damaged pallet could create an argument that lasted half an hour.
Here, someone was casually discussing a loss larger than anything Alex had ever imagined earning in his lifetime.
He wrote another note.
Ask what EBITDA means.
Then he underlined it twice.
He glanced toward Constance.
She was listening carefully.
Richard sat near the head of the table.
He looked completely comfortable.
Of course he did.
Richard belonged here.
He had spent fifteen years learning this language.
Alex was still trying to understand the alphabet.
Then he noticed someone two seats away.
A dark-haired man in his mid-thirties was watching the meeting with a different kind of attention.
He didn’t seem interested in performing for anyone.
He wasn’t trying to impress the room.
He wasn’t speaking unnecessarily.
He listened.
He took notes.
Occasionally, he asked short questions that made several people stop and reconsider something.
During a particularly confusing discussion about quarterly hedging strategy, Alex accidentally caught his eye.
The man gave him a tiny nod.
Alex blinked.
He wasn’t sure what it meant.
Was that encouragement?
A warning?
An introduction?
Alex looked away.
A few minutes later, he glanced at the man again.
The man was still watching him.
Alex quickly looked back at his papers.
He told himself to stop staring.
He lasted about three minutes.
Then he looked again.
This time, the man smiled faintly.
Alex couldn’t help smiling back.
It was a small thing.
Almost nothing.
But in a room where Alex felt like an intruder, it helped.
The meeting continued.
Another presentation.
Another discussion.
Another series of numbers Alex didn’t understand.
By the time they reached the philanthropic division, his brain was exhausted.
He had learned two things.
First, Voss Global was far more complicated than he’d imagined.
Second, nobody expected him to understand that complication yet.
Or at least, nobody seemed willing to help him.
An hour into the meeting, Constance finally turned toward him.
“Mr. Tailor, we’ve reached the item requiring your vote.”
Alex straightened.
Every conversation around the table stopped.
“The philanthropic division has proposed restructuring three regional programs under a single directorship.”
Constance folded her hands.
“The board is divided.”
Alex glanced at the document in front of him.
He had read it.
He remembered reading it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t remember understanding much of it.
“We’d like your position.”
Every eye in the room turned toward him.
Alex felt the pressure immediately.
It reminded him of the loading dock at Ferris.
The feeling he used to get when he picked up a manifest and knew something on it wasn’t right.
Except this time, there were several more zeros involved.
He looked down at the proposal.
He could pretend.
That would probably be easier.
He could say something vague.
Talk about efficiency.
Say he supported the restructuring because it sounded like a good idea.
Nobody would know.
Maybe.
But Alex had spent too much of his life dealing with consequences caused by people who pretended to know what they were doing.
He wasn’t going to become one of them.
“I haven’t had enough time to fully review the proposal,” he said.
The room went quiet.
“I’d rather abstain than pretend I understand something I don’t.”
A few people shifted in their seats.
Someone at the far end of the table leaned back.
Another person exchanged a glance with Richard.
No one looked particularly pleased.
Richard, however, smiled faintly.
It was the expression of a man who had just had his expectations confirmed.
Alex noticed.
He wasn’t sure why, but that bothered him.
Constance studied him for a long moment.
“That’s a reasonable position.”
Alex relaxed slightly.
“But,” she continued, “I should remind you, Mr. Tailor, that abstaining has consequences of its own when a board is this evenly divided.”
Alex nodded.
“I understand.”
He didn’t.
Not completely.
But he understood enough to know that his decision mattered.
The vote continued without him.
The board eventually reached a decision.
Alex wasn’t sure whether he had helped or simply stayed out of the way.
Either way, he had survived.
Barely.
The rest of the meeting passed more quickly.
Or maybe he had simply stopped trying to understand every word.
By the time Constance finally closed her folder, Alex was exhausted.
“That’s all for today.”
Chairs moved.
Folders closed.
Conversations began.
The room slowly emptied.
Alex gathered his papers, trying not to look as lost as he felt.
He glanced down at his notes.
Half of them were questions.
The other half were words he needed to search later.
He had a lot to learn.
And not much time to learn it.
As he stood, someone approached him.
It was the dark-haired man from earlier.
He held out his hand.
“Nathaniel Cho.”
Alex shook it.
“Alex Tailor.”
Nathaniel smiled.
“CFO.”
Alex nodded.
“I figured.”
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
“How?”
“You were the only person in the room who looked like you knew what was happening.”
Nathaniel laughed.
“That’s generous.”
He glanced toward the door as the last board member left.
Then he looked back at Alex.
“You looked like you could use a friend in that room.”
Alex gave a tired laugh.
“That obvious?”
“To me.”
Nathaniel slid his folder under his arm.
“I figured I’d rather be the one who offers than watch you flounder through another six meetings before someone decides to help.”
Alex studied him.
“Why help me?”
Nathaniel didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he looked around the emptying room.
“Because you’re going to need someone.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“No.”
Nathaniel smiled slightly.
“But it’s the honest answer.”
Alex frowned.
Nathaniel continued.
“Everyone in this building already knows your name.”
His smile faded slightly.
“The question is whether anyone besides me is willing to actually help you learn the job.”
Alex looked at him.
“And you’re willing?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”
He paused.
“Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not promising to protect you from the board.”
“I wouldn’t expect that.”
“Good.”
Nathaniel’s expression became more serious.
“You’ll need to learn quickly.”
“I know.”
“And some people will deliberately make that difficult.”
Alex glanced toward the door Richard had disappeared through.
“I’ve noticed.”
Nathaniel followed his gaze.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Nathaniel said quietly, “Good.”
Alex looked back at him.
“Good?”
“You’re paying attention.”
He extended his hand again.
“That’s a start.”
Alex shook it.
For the first time since he’d entered the boardroom, he felt like maybe he wasn’t completely alone.
Nathaniel released his hand.
“I’ll send you something tonight.”
“What?”
“A list.”
“A list of what?”
“The things you actually need to understand.”
Alex stared at him.
“How long is the list?”
Nathaniel smiled.
“You don’t want to know.”
Alex laughed.
It was the first genuine laugh he’d had all morning.
Nathaniel turned toward the door.
“And Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let anyone convince you that not knowing something makes you stupid.”
Alex went quiet.
Nathaniel continued.
“It just means you haven’t learned it yet.”
Then he walked away.
Alex stood alone in the boardroom for a moment.
He looked at the enormous table.
The empty chairs.
The city beyond the glass.
A few hours ago, he had walked into the room feeling like someone who didn’t belong.
He still felt that way.
But now, at least, he had one reason to believe that might change.
Alex picked up his folder.
He had a lot to learn.
So he would learn.
If this was going to be his life, he wasn’t going to spend the rest of it pretending he understood things he didn’t.
He was going to earn his place.
Even if he had to learn everything from the beginning.
