5
Damien
As expected, I didn’t really need to attend my two a.m. meeting. The Australian division of the Cardenas Group is switching payroll software providers, and the team in charge of vendor selection is presenting their findings. Payroll is important; I get that. We employ a lot of people, people who depend on their salaries to pay their bills and feed their families. But Jack Rutherford, the president of that division, is on this call. He’s closer to this issue and more than capable of making this decision.
This is a complete waste of time.
I sip a cup of extra-strong coffee and listen to the presentation. There’s a discussion about the various options, and the committee selects two companies to shortlist. Looks like we’re done. Good.
I lean forward. “Jack, if you have a minute, could you give me a call?”
My phone rings almost immediately. “Is something wrong?” he asks.
Rutherford worked extensively with my father. Not as much with me. I’ve only talked to the man a handful of times. I haven’t needed to. The Australian subsidiary takes care of itself.
“Help me understand something.” I drain the dregs of my coffee with a grimace. My pulse is racing, and my throat feels dry. Too much caffeine and not enough sleep. “It seems like your team had everything under control. Why did I need to be involved?”
He sounds confused when he replies. “It's company policy.”
“What is?”
“Major purchases require a sign-off from the head office,” he says. “It was a rule your father put into place.”
I wipe my hand over my face. Even with customization, the payroll software costs less than a million dollars. The Australian division makes many times that amount every year. This is not a major purchase.
“Why didn’t you invite someone from the corporate IT team, then? Ramesh? Shana?”
“That wasn’t how your father liked it,” Jack replies. “He liked it to be a member of the family.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. My parents built the Cardenas Group up from nothing into the conglomerate that it is today. However, it’s still run like a family company. Sometimes, that’s a good thing. Other times, like now, it’s insane.
And I can guess why I got roped into this meeting. Jack, trying to follow the rules, would have invited my mother or Tomas. Their shared assistant, Gisele, guards their time with ferocious zeal, so she would have declined the meeting and forwarded the request to Luis instead.
Vicky doesn’t take meetings at two in the morning. Neither does Cristiano. Which leaves me.
It’s always me.
This level of micromanagement is crazy. Insane. Our top people are going to get poached away from us if we second-guess their every decision. Jack has run the Australian division for the last eight years. He delivers double-digit revenue growth every single year. And in the mining sector, which makes his achievement even more impressive. Employee retention is significantly better than the industry average. Morale is excellent.
Rutherford is ferociously competent. Why are we treating him this way? We should shower him with rewards, not putting these ridiculous constraints on him.
“I’ll talk to my mother and Tomas about that ridiculous rule,” I say. “But Jack, in the meantime, here’s what we’re going to do. You can keep inviting me to the meetings, but I’m going to decline them all. If there’s anything you think I need to attend, let Luis know, and he’ll make sure I’m there.”
When I’m done with the meeting, I call Melanie Succar, who works on my strategy team, and tell her what Jack Rutherford told me. “We need to streamline things,” I tell her. “There’s a bunch of rules that make no sense for a company our size. Can you investigate and come up with a list of recommendations? I’m looking for both short-term and long-term stuff.”
“I’m on it,” she promises.
I finally crawl into bed at four in the morning. Of course, sleep doesn't come. My body doesn't know what time zone it's in, but that’s not the only reason.
I'm also thinking about Sophia.
I haven't allowed myself to think about that night for so many years. What would be the point? But now, seeing her again, it all comes back to life. The feel of her skin. The sound of her laughter. The gleam in her eyes. She had been a powerfully addictive drug in my blood, and I hadn’t wanted to let her go.
I don't get why she blew us off. I don’t understand why she thinks I got her fired. I really don't. Why would I? It was a good night. The sex was off-the-charts fantastic, but it was more than that. We had a connection. I could have sworn we all felt it.
It hadn't felt like a one-night stand for either Julian or me. We both wanted to see her again. We might not have been ready for marriage and children—we were in our mid-twenties, and that kind of commitment felt like a long way off—but we knew she was important. We knew we didn’t want to let her go.
Yes, we hooked up in a sex club, and there was some spanking and bondage. But there was also kissing and cuddling. We fell asleep together, all three of us. We liked her, and we didn’t hide it. We didn’t play it cool.