Damien
I've been in Highfield for a little over a week and a half. In that time, I've attended thirty-seven meetings, answered hundreds of emails, and have worked at least eight hours a day every single day.
And I'm supposed to be on vacation.
Yesterday, I rebelled. I called Luis and told him that I was going to be unavailable. I put my phone in airplane mode and ignored my laptop.
It was amazing.
To be fair, much of my good mood this morning is not because of my day off. It’s because of Sophia.
Last night was amazing. Truly special. And it’s not the sex. Don’t get me wrong—the sex was off-the-charts hot. In fact, if I think about it for too long, I’m going to get a hard-on. Which is something I’d like to avoid, given I have to talk to one of my employees, Rafal, in ten minutes.
What’s much more important is the connection between us. It felt special. It felt right. And this time, I’m not going to let it slip through my fingers. I’m older now, and I know what a rare gift this feeling is. I won’t let it go.
As tempting as it is to turn off my phone for the rest of the month, I cannot. Luis is probably already feeling the heat from my mother, Tomas, Gisele, and Victoria. From everybody. It's a shitshow, but it's not his shitshow to manage. It's mine.
Once Sophia and Julian leave, I take my phone off airplane mode. Emails start to flood into my inbox. Thirteen of them are marked Urgent. My mother has left me two messages, and Vicky has called three times.
Fuck me. I rub my chest. I turned off my phone for one day—on a Saturday when people shouldn’t be working anyway. You’d think I disappeared for a year on from the way everyone is carrying. This is insane. This is unsustainable. This is exactly the sort of thing that got my father killed. He’s been gone for three years, and I miss him every single day.
And I feel myself fall into the same trap that took him.
Rafal calls me at ten to give me an update on Acra. “The negotiations are almost done,” he says tersely. “I just need your okay on the final numbers.”
He's already sent me an email with the details, so this is at least a quick conversation. “I'm okay with them,” I respond. He’s usually cheerful and garrulous, so this terseness is unlike him.Unlike Jack Rutherford, I know Rafal well. We went to business school together. We've eaten in each other's homes. There’s a certain stiffness in his voice that isn’t normal.
“The meetings went well?” I probe. “Or were they being difficult?”
“They were fine.”
Then what’s wrong? Before I can ask, he continues, “Your sister has been sitting in on the negotiations all week.”
“She has?” You have to be fucking kidding me. My lips tighten. Damn it. I made it clear earlier this week that Rafal would be our point person for the Acra negotiations. Mama and I talked about it; I thought she agreed with me. I sent Rafal an email telling him to handle it. I copied my mother on that email. Tomas too. Vicky as well. Everyone knew Rafal was in charge.
And yet, Vicky couldn’t let him handle it.
I’m so angry I see red. I cannot afford to lose Rafal. My mother might think that only family can be trusted, but she’s wrong. I recruited Rafal Loyola personally. He’s a star, and if he feels undermined, he will quit.
Cardenas Group is nothing without the people that work for us. Something my mother refuses to see.
And Victoria? She should have known better. I am incandescent with rage.
I rub my chest again and say something conciliatory to Rafal. Praise him for a job well done. Then I hang up and take a deep breath. I need to get my temper under control before I call my sister.
She calls me before that can happen. “Your phone was off yesterday,” she snaps. “Ask me what I did yesterday, Damien. I sat in the most boring contract negotiation of my life. All day long.”
She sounds pissed off, but it's nothing compared to how furious I am. “Why were you there?” I demand. “I told Rafal to handle it. I sent everyone an email saying he was in charge. I copied you on that note. I copied everyone, for fuck’s sake. I wanted there to be no doubt that he could handle it. What possessed you to attend the negotiations?”
“Mama told me to go.”
Of course she did. I'm exasperated beyond belief. There is a dull pain in my chest. I massage it absently. I shouldn’t have eaten those burgers last night. Red meat isn’t good for me. “I am the Chief Operating Officer,” I snap. “The only person with authority to overrule my decisions is Tomas.” At least Tomas doesn’t interfere. “Not Mama. Whether she likes it or not, Mama is retired. She doesn't work in the firm any longer. You should have ignored her.”
My sister laughs incredulously. “Really? Ignore Mama. Have you met the woman?”
That’s fair—I can’t dispute that. “I put Rafal in charge,” I point out. “By showing up to the Acra meetings, you undermined him. By extension, you undermined me.” I massage my chest again and get up to pour myself another cup of coffee. “Did Tomas interfere? No, he didn’t. Because Tomas might not know anything about running this company, but he does know that the family can’t do it alone. Not anymore. We’re just too big for that.”
She’s silent a very long time, and then she sighs. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not good at dealing with Mama. She called me, practically in tears, and gave me a long guilt trip about how Papa sacrificed everything to build this company. And yes, she understood that you asked Rafal to do it, but he’s only been with the company for three years and was I really sure we could trust him? You know how she can get.”