“Yeah,” George said, frowning at me. He had his arms folded across his chest and was still standing, clearly trying to intimidate me.
I shrugged as the silence stretched on. “Look, I don't know what you want me to say,” I said.
Alex snorted. Paul grimaced. George slammed a hand on the table. “Maybe we'd like you to apologize for being so arrogant and immature,” he snarled. “Maybe we'd like you to quit being so stupid. You always remind us that you're the face of this company. How can you not realize that that goes beyond the promo shoots and the TV appearances and everything else? Anything that you do, at this point, seems to be in the public eye.”
“But it shouldn't be,” I said.
Alex laughed. “There you go again with that incredible immaturity,” he scoffed. He mimicked me in a high whine, “But it shouldn't be.” He shook his head. “It is, though, Christian. You know that it is. Whether you think it's your private business or not, you have to realize how much you're tarnishing the company image with these stupid shenanigans of yours.”
“Oh, for the last time!” I snapped. “I'm not tarnishing the company's image.”
“Aren't you?” George retorted. “Then do you want to explain to me why our stock declines every time you end up on the news?” I blinked at him, and he rolled his eyes. “You didn't even know that, did you? You never pay attention to anything that has to do with the actual company side of things. You shouldn't even be an owner in the company. You've got no head for any of this, and-”
“What are you going to do?” I snarled, getting to my feet as well because I'd had it with him trying to assert his dominance. “I am an owner of the company. Unless you want to dissolve the company or-”
“We're not getting rid of you,” Paul interrupted soothingly, about time that he spoke up! “George, come on. You know Christian belongs in this company. He's been brilliant at marketing us and at making us what we are today. Maybe he hasn't always acted in the best interests of the company, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to be at this table just as much as the rest of us. We've all made sacrifices over the years, and we've all worked hard.”
“What are you going to do then?” I asked, whirling toward Paul, my hands on my hips.
“First, we're going to ask you to step into the hall,” Paul said, and even though his eyes remained gentle, there was a hint of steel in his voice that told me I should do what he said.
I laughed and shook my head. “So much for not getting rid of me!” I snapped.
“We're not getting rid of you,” Paul repeated. “However, I don't think we're going to have a very productive discussion like this. Why don't you go wait in your office, and I'll come let you know when we've reached a decision?”
It wasn't a suggestion, and as much as I didn't like the idea, I knew that I needed to go along with it. I was lucky enough to still have Paul on my side. I nodded sharply and headed for the door.
Back in my office, it seemed to take them an eternity to come up with my sentencing. I knew that I should be getting work done, reminding them of what a valuable resource I was there at the office, but instead, it was all I could do to make another coffee and sit there at my desk, staring down at my photo on the front of that stupid magazine. I didn't even dare read the interviews, but it was enough to imagine what the two women might have said.
Paul finally knocked on the door and cleared his throat, and I looked up at him. He came inside, alone, thankfully, and shut the door firmly behind him. “We're not getting rid of you,” he repeated.
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” I said, waving a hand. “What are you going to do?”
“Unfortunately, there's not much that we can do, short of buying you out of the company. We've agreed that it would be best for you to take the next three or four months off. Get it all out of your system, and come back to us when you're ready to work and be a professional.”
I stared at him, hardly able to believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Paul-” I said.
“Wait,” Paul said, holding up a hand. “Just think about it, Christian. You could do a ski vacation. You could go someplace warm. You wouldn't be getting paid, but we both know you're not in any danger of going broke, no matter how crazy you go for the next few months. Just get out of the country. Go someplace where the gossip columns won't bother you and have a good time.”
“But the company-”
“We'll suffer through it,” Paul said, giving me a wry smile. “We'll be happy to have you come back. You know how much I hate having to go to conferences and things like that.”
“So-”
“It's not really up for discussion,” Paul interrupted. He grimaced. “I'm sorry, Christian. You know how much I hate for things to come to this, how much I've been fighting this for years now. But there's nothing that I can do.”
I grimaced. A week later, I found myself standing behind a podium, giving a formal apology for all the things that I had supposedly done.
“To all of our shareholders, and our consumers, and our supporters,” I said, “I thank you for your patience. I know that my conduct over the past few years hasn't been exactly what you've desired. I know that there have been many times that you've…” I trailed off, staring down at the script that had been placed in front of me. Then, I threw the note cards off to the side.
“Let me be real here,” I said. “I know that when you're looking for a real estate company, you're looking for someone who you can trust. You're looking for someone who can see the vision of you growing old there with your wife, of you spending time there with your kids. And I haven't delivered on that promise lately.”
I spotted Paul in the audience; I could see the way his eyebrows rose. “I haven't respected you the way that you deserved,” I told them. “And we all know it. And I'd like to fix that. I'll be taking some time off, at least from now until the end of the year, probably longer,” I told everyone. “And don't worry, I'm leaving you in incredibly capable hands. I'm sure you've all heard of these guys before. And-”
“All right,” Paul said, suddenly catching my elbow and leading me off the stage. “That's enough,” he said under his breath. “We do still want you to come back next year.”
I took a deep breath and smiled bitterly at him. “But over the next few months, you're going to realize that you don't need me,” I told him.