Chapter 25
The conference room door swung open, and Amabel entered with Felix trailing closely behind, both smiling brightly. As they approached the central table, fifteen of the seventeen directors in attendance promptly rose to their feet, offering respectful bows.
“Good morning, ma’am.” The directors greeted, their faces lit up with welcoming smiles.
Amabel halted, darting her gaze between those at her right and the left, beaming, excited, “good morning, amazing directors,” she responded. “The pillars of this Heritage Holdings,”
She smiled warmly and curtsied slightly. “I extend my sincerest appreciation for your consistent support. Your commitment has been instrumental in achieving this milestone, and I’m delighted to be here today to express my gratitude,”
“Please know that I value your contributions immensely and pledge that my son will uphold the trust you’ve placed in him. We’re eternally grateful and look forward to opportunities to return your favor,”
The directors were the ones who had supported her proposal to strip Alaric of his shares and transfer them to Felix, citing his capabilities, and since she was eager to maintain their goodwill for future collaborations, she had to continue heaping praise upon them.
She bent her neck a little, her right hand on the left part of her chest, holding her bag in her right hand. “Your partnership is invaluable—I beg of you to continue guiding Felix. He’s still young so, please, let’s work together to empower him, and I'm confident he’ll lead our organization to unprecedented success.”
Griffin, a senior director in his forties, put his palms together, starting a round of applause, and the other fourteen directors joined in, their hands clapping in unison for a moment.
“We endorse Felix because we believe in his abilities,” Griffin affirmed.
Griffin was Amabel’s trusted liaison, serving as her conduit for her messages to other directors. He knew exactly what to say to win her approval. His continual flattery was calculated to ensure Amabel’s continuous favor, allowing him to secure whatever he needed from her anytime.
His pattern had persisted for years, and he wouldn’t change it. “We trust him implicitly, and we’re confident he’ll consistently deliver,”
He made a solemn gesture, bending his neck with his right hand on his chest and left hand on his back. “I pledge my loyalty to you, Felix, under my support for the chairwoman,” he vowed. “My unwavering support for you is until my last breath.”
A warm smile spread across Amabel’s face as she met Griffin’s gaze, her expression reflecting her deep appreciation. “Thank you, Griffin,” she acknowledged, her tone sincere.
Her gaze shifted from Griffin to Director Fraser and Tamsin, seated side by side at the far end of the table, their positions following the chairman’s seat on the right-hand side.
A gentle smile curled onto her lips, her eyes lingering on the directors before she released a soft breath and redirected her gaze, scanning Griffin and others.
“Felix would like to host a celebration party this evening to mark this milestone,” Amabel announced. “Your presence would mean a great deal to us, as it signifies your continued support and partnership in our journey together,”
Her chin raised a little and her gaze narrowed slightly as she looked at Director Fraser and Tamsin. “Attendance is not optional,” she stated. “Not showing up will be perceived as a sign of dissent, and we'll consider you opposed to our vision, so please, be there.”
“We'll be there, ma'am,” Griffin assured, his voice rising above the murmurs of agreement from the other directors. “We’ll clear our schedules to show our support.”
“Thank you.” Amabel uttered. She moved to her, the fifth after the chairman’s seat from the left side.
Tamsin shifted in her seat, her hands clasped together on her thighs, and a subtle smile. “So, attendance at this party you're likely not even holding implies my endorsement of your endeavors?”
Amabel’s eyes met Tamsin’s. “Yes—” she wanted to respond, but Director Fraser’s low chuckle interrupted her.
“By their words, you shall know them.” He murmured.
Amabel’s eyes flashed toward him. “I’m not addressing you.” She snapped, anger simmering beneath her surface, but controlled her expression because the chairman might arrive any moment.
“And which laws prohibit him from intervening?” Director Tamsin posed a question, her usual calm demeanor belying her true intent to provoke Amabel.
She shrugged, continuing with a measured tone. “He’s a director just like you and I. And perhaps you reacted like that because you think you’re to be identified as the chairman’s wife at the moment?”
“I-” Amabel opened her mouth to defend herself, but Tamsin gave her no space.
“The board’s rules dictate that personal status outside this room shouldn’t influence our decisions during meetings,” Tamsin asserted, her hands unfolding. “Once we step in here, titles and affiliations are set aside—we’re equals as directors,”
“You’re a director, just like everyone else in this room,” she emphasized, her gaze locked with Amabel’s. “Leave your external status at the door. If you forget, a refresher on the guidelines might be in order—or sanctions will follow.”
Amabel snorted, her face tightening. “A threat?” She uttered, struggling to keep her tone even. “You dare threaten me? Who do you think you are to threaten me, Tamsin?"
“A director, just like you, Amabel.” Tamsin retorted, her eyes broadened with defiance.
The room erupted in a collective gasp.
A stunned silence followed until Griffin finally broke it, his eyes shutting tight in horror. “How...how dare you address the chairwoman so informally?” He stammered, still reeling from the shock.
Tamsin’s brow furrowed as she locked eyes with Griffin. “And how dare your chairwoman use my name so freely?” She countered, her tone sharp. “Fingers are not equal in length, but they still work together.”
“You-” Griffin still wanted to defend Amabel, but Tamsin cut him off.
“No quail is taller than another quail, except the one that climbs a ridge,” Tamsin let out. “Respect is not a position, respect is earned. I can never be formal when she’s informal,”
She locked eyes with Amabel, her chin tilting upward in a subtle challenge. With her hands clasped together and resting on her thigh, she crossed one foot over the other, exuding calm confidence. “When you receive, you give back. I returned what she gave me. Aura for the aura,”
“Peace unto whoever wants it.”
Amabel's face turned beet red with rage. “You—” she shouted, but the sudden opening of the door interrupted her.
The directors facing the entrance stood up, and Amabel, biting back her anger, forced herself to calm down. She looked down, taking a deep breath as she waited for the others to settle into their formal stance.
Dawson approached his seat, his expression darkening as he took in Amabel’s presence. “What brings you here?” He asked curtly. “When was the last time you attended a meeting that warrants your presence today?”
“I-” Amabel wanted to speak for herself, but Tamsin intervened.
“The board’s rules dictate that personal status outside this room shouldn’t influence our decisions during meetings,” Tamsin said, her chin raised a little.
Dawson looked in her direction and she lowered her gaze to lock eyes with him with a faint smile on her face. “You’re certainly aware of the rule, aren't you?”
Before the chairman could open his mouth to say a word, Tamsin averted her gaze from him, proceeding, “If you've forgotten the rule, revisit the guidelines. Recurrence will prompt a sanction's motion, and I’ll uphold it,”
She met Dawson’s gaze, her stare unwavering. “The law allows no exceptions, does it?” She declared, throwing his own words back at him from when she'd resisted Alaric’s share transfer.
Dawson let out a soft sigh, aware of Tamsin’s discord with him, especially regarding Alaric. Given the meeting’s agenda, he anticipated her criticism and knew resistance would be futile. “My apologies,” he said. “I’ll reflect on your comment and review the guidelines if needed.”
“Better.” Tamsin uttered and sat ahead of the chairman.
Dawson sat at the table’s center, and the others, including Felix, followed his lead, sitting down.
Dawson glanced at Amabel, who deliberately looked away, dodging eye contact. Her presence bothered him, and he was tempted to speak up or dismiss her, but Tamsin’s watchful gaze kept him in check, and he held his tongue.
Tamsin checked her watch, then addressed the chairman without turning to face him. “Reserve your emotions until the meeting concludes—or better yet, until you leave this room,” she advised.
“For now, she’s just a director with minimal shares. I’d recommend setting aside your personal connections—she’s not the mother of today’s supposed-to-be celebrant, nor a wife.”
“What do you mean supposed-to-be celebrant?” Griffin queried, and Tamsin stared at him, tinting her lips with a beam.
“You’ll understand soon,” she answered. “Those who are going to have good things, those are the ones who will have them, even if they are not in the right place.”
Fraser chuckled lightly, saying a Yoruba proverb. “Ohun tí a bá gbìn la óò ka.”
Tamsin scoffed softly and bent her neck a little, still staring at Griffin’s. “What we sow is what we reap,” she translated Fraser’s statement, adding, “Ẹnikan o ni gbin alubosa ko wa ka ẹfọ,”
She shook her head in disapproval, translating her last statement. “A person does not plant onions and harvest vegetables.”
“Impossible.” Fraser chimed in, supporting Tamsin’s stance as the room fell silent, with all eyes on them, including the chairman’s, who looked puzzled by their words.
Tamsin cleared her throat, facing the chairman. A smile lit up her face. “Mr. Chairman, sir. Shall we get started?” She suggested, her tone gentle. “Please, let’s move thin
gs along—today has more to it than just this meeting.”