Her smile was all brilliantly-white teeth. “You look lovely.”
I fell in step with her as we went down the corridor, marching toward the biggest conversation of my life. It was sure to be hard, but if this went well, I’d be able to finish my degree and save my family, and as a bonus, I’d end up with the prince who dominated my thoughts.
The same prince who was waiting beside the door, his arms folded across his chest and leaning against the wall. He wore a black three-piece suit and a green tie, which perfectly matched the emerald green dress I wore. It had to be intentional on Alice’s part. It made us look like we belonged together.
Like a couple.
“You look nervous,” was the greeting he gave me, which didn’t help my anxiety.
Alice lifted her gaze to the ceiling, annoyed. “Don’t tell her that. She looks perfect.”
His focus slid down me, tracing my curves appreciatively. The dress was simple. One deep color and cut modestly, but tailored so it flattered my figure. Conservative but not stuffy. Professionally feminine, Alice had called it. That was what she wanted my brand to be.
“I look nervous,” I said, “because I am.”
He straightened from the wall, and his shadow fell on me. “Don’t be. You’ll be fine.”
Alice was less convinced. “Just answer the questions honestly, even if some of them make you uncomfortable, and it shouldn’t take long.”
Alarm pricked at me. “Uncomfortable? Like, what?”
Her face went blank. She was a computer accessing files from the archives. “Medical history. Personal stuff.”
“Oh.” My apprehension grew.
“I’m going to introduce you,” Royce said, “but I can’t stay.” He gave me a final once-over. “Ready?”
No. Not at all. “Yes.”
“Good luck.” Alice flashed a supportive smile.
He took my elbow and guided me through the door, keeping his voice at a hush, only for me. “You don’t need luck. You’ve got an ace up your sleeve.”
I glanced at him in surprise. “I do?”
It was too late for him to explain. We were now in the boardroom and the interview had officially started.
There was a lot to take in. The ceilings were tall and the room wide, but my eye went to the long conference table and the reflection of the Boston skyline in its glossy finish. The outer wall was all windows like the offices, but since we were on the opposite side of the building, the sun-drenched city stretched out for miles beyond the glass.
Eight pairs of eyes sharpened on us as Royce urged me deeper into the room.
Four men in suits sat on one side of the table, three on the other, and Macalister presided at the head. Was it another Hale tradition to have his chair sit taller than the rest, to make him more impressive and opposing? Because it was working. He held dominion over the room.
“Gentleman,” Royce said straight-faced, “may I present Marist Northcott for your consideration?”
I strangled back the nervous laugh that wanted to escape. He was mocking them, or his family’s ridiculous tradition, or both.
He pulled out the chair for me at the other end of the table, which left a buffer of several empty seats, but put me directly across from his father. I strode toward it, determined not to look intimidated even as my insides quaked. I would do as Royce did. Be a different person when others were around.
Adapt to survive.
The evaluating stare of the board members made it cumbersome to move, but I lowered into the seat, kept my chin up and my gaze firmly on Macalister. I was smart enough to know the chairman was the only one whose opinion mattered, and I was already starting behind since I wasn’t my sister. If I lost his approval, I’d be doomed.
A hand gently clasped my shoulder, and I turned to look up at Royce. His expression made his thoughts clear. You’ve got this. My heart skittered from his small, supportive gesture, but when I faced the board, the action hadn’t been lost on Macalister. He eyed his son with interest.
Or perhaps suspicion.
Footsteps carried Royce away, and no one spoke until the door was shut behind him. Alice’s voice filtered in my mind. Mind your posture. Smile. Hands in your lap.
“Welcome.” Macalister’s voice was fixed and even. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.”
I hoped my smile wasn’t unnatural. “Thank you for having me.”
As a whole, the board was rather young-looking, and it was by design. Years ago, they had created a rule that each member would retire from their seat by sixty-five. Macalister had argued it was to keep the members fresh and sharp, but I suspected he’d done it to force his own father to relinquish his seat and allow Macalister to take over sooner.
The two members who’d come from outside HBHC were in their early fifties. Both men had made hundreds of millions on companies they’d taken public, retired from, and now held seats on the board. They drew cushy salaries for four meetings a year, plus a few events. It was a sweet gig.