Chapter 7 - The board meeting
Our board was barely a board.
Charles.
Victoria.
Arthur.
Me.
And two outside advisers without formal voting rights.
That structure had worked while my father controlled everything.
It stopped working once family interests diverged.
I demanded a special meeting under the shareholder agreement.
My father tried to postpone.
I refused.
The meeting happened in our Stamford conference room.
No Gigi.
No family photos.
No birthday cake.
Arthur arrived with counsel.
Good.
I had counsel too.
Victoria attended by video because her wrist was still wrapped.
Charles sat at the head.
Old habits.
I presented three requests.
One:
Independent review of related-party expenses.
Two:
Temporary separation of Arthur from approval authority over his own expenses.
Three:
No refinancing requiring my guarantee unless review completed and lender received accurate governance information.
Arthur laughed.
“This is revenge.”
“It can be both triggered by the assault and independently justified by the records.”
My attorney had taught me better sentences.
Arthur leaned forward.
“You think because I smacked your kid you get to take my company?”
I froze.
There.
Not:
accidentally struck.
Not:
protected.
Smacked.
Victoria interrupted:
“Arthur.”
Too late.
One adviser looked down.
The other, retired banker Susan Bell, asked:
“Did you just admit intentionally striking a two-year-old?”
Arthur’s lawyer said:
“My client is not discussing the criminal matter.”
Good lawyer.
Arthur leaned back.
Charles rubbed his forehead.
Then Susan said:
“I also want the expense review.”
My father looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because now I know management’s judgment is a governance issue and because the controller’s email suggests information was withheld from a director.”
There.
No family drama needed.
The audit motion passed only because Charles finally voted yes after realizing the bank might demand it anyway.
Arthur stormed out.
Victoria told me:
“You wanted this.”
I answered:
May you like
“I wanted you to protect my daughter.”
She disconnected.
