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In all their years of working together, Parker had never spoken to him like this. It was as if the man had suddenly aged and hardened before his eyes.
"We're not a little start-up company anymore, Peter," Parker exploded. "We're big business, and we need to be run like a big business. And that includes taking care of the people who got us here!"
An unpleasant taste shot up from Peter's throat. He already knew what Parker's vote would be. And if Parker, who was easily his least problematic executive, felt his way, what about the others?
Alan Parker narrowed his eyes and slowly shook his head. His face softened, and for a moment he was once again the kind and grateful man Peter remembered. "Peter, I believe Matthew has what it takes to run this company. But I also believe you should lead our new product development - "
Peter lifted a hand, cutting the executive off. "Save it," he said, patting Parker stiffly on the shoulder. "So, everyone thinks I'm a jerk. But it was this hot-shot businessman," he said, flinging a hand towards Matthew, "who let things get to this point of confusion and misunderstanding."
Matthew stood. "Peter, I want us to work together, but for me to be able to manage Wallaby, you need to let me have the power to do what's right from a business standpoint."
"Well forget it, Matthew," Peter said. "And let's cut all this crybaby sentimental c.r.a.p too, okay? Okay. Fine. If this is how you want to play the game, we'll just go around the room and ask everyone if they want me out." He leaned against the window ledge, in the exact section Matthew had just vacated. He squeezed the ledge on either side with his hands, white-knuckled, as if this would somehow anchor his place in the room.
"All right, who's next?" Peter said, his voice bordering on hysteria. "Let's see. Denise. You. Just a simple yes if you think Matthew should have final power. No drama, please, we've all got a lot of work to do today."
Denise Campbell had started her career with Wallaby as a financial a.n.a.lyst. Young and bright and a genius with numbers, Denise's long record of successes had recently been rewarded by Peter, who had promoted her to the role of CFO. With anguished eyes, she faced Peter. "As a publicly held company, our first obligation is to our shareholders."
Peter held up his hand again, stopping her before she could go into a long-winded justification. "No verbosity, please, just a yes or no." His eyes blazed.
She looked into her lap. "Yes," she said. "But Peter, you have to stay on as - "
Eyes closed, he turned away from her with a disgusted expression and a quick shake of his head.
Paul Crane, executive vice president of sales and marketing, was regarded by everyone for his no-bulls.h.i.+t manner, which he now demonstrated with a simple nod of his head.
Matthew stood off to the side, watching the process without expression. It went on like this until the entire executive staff was polled. Then Peter queried each of the visiting directors, who had flown in from different parts of the country to attend the meeting. Not a single no was spoken. When Matthew counted all but the final response, he stiffened, awaiting the finale.
Peter knelt before Hank Towers.
"Hank," Peter said, his voice a desperate croak. "You, more than anyone else in this room, know what Wallaby means to me." He drummed his chest with his palm. "You and I, Hank, we made Wallaby everything it is today. Didn't I agree with you a few years ago that we needed someone to run the company? And wasn't I supportive when we hired Matthew? We made a mistake is all, and no one gets it. But you do. I know you do."
Hank sat perfectly still, but Matthew could see that Peter's words were having an effect on him. And on some of the others.
Sounds of sniffing and little coughs, throats clearing, filled the room.
Matthew's pulse quickened. Although everyone else in the room had voted in his favor, Hank could essentially persuade them all to compromise in Peter's favor, dissolving Matthew's ultimatum. If Hank did that, the plan would be off.
"Hank, you have to trust me on this one," Peter implored.
"Matthew isn't right for Wallaby. If you let him have this, he'll turn Wallaby into a second-rate company. All I want is for us to be number one, Hank. It's all we've ever wanted, right?"
Matthew sweated to read Hank's expression. Had he been kidding himself into thinking he could lure Hank's loyalty away from Peter.
"d.a.m.n it, Hank, look at me. Don't you see what he really wants?
He wants us, the renegades, to connect to IC-f.u.c.king-P's computers! If that's not selling out, man, what is?"
Matthew held his breath, for Peter's a.s.sessment was ultimately the motivation behind his entire secret plan. And if this revelation, however ridiculous it may have sounded, caused Hank to waver, to trust Peter's instincts, then Matthew had not a single grain of hope of ever succeeding with his monumental plan.
He heard the sound of his own heartbeat squis.h.i.+ng wildly in his ears.
Hank looked Peter in the eye, and slowly shook his head.
Peter grunted. It was a wrenching, painful sound.
"Hank, no. No, Hank. No." He spoke very slowly, pausing with every few words to catch his breath. "We did it before. And we can do it again." He planted his hands on Hank's shoulders and gave him the sort of shake one gives a drunkard. "We can run Wallaby. Until we find someone who can cut it. Hank."
Hank gently removed Peter's hands from his shoulders.
"No, Peter," Hank whispered. "No."
"Hank, this is my life we're talking about, here. You will kill me if you don't save me." Tears spilled down Peter's cheeks.
"You're my only hope."
Hank rested his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Petey, we're a big company now, at probably the most critical point in all our history. You are too unfocused to manage Wallaby. Matthew can."
He punctuated this last line with a squeeze. "But you've got to stay on and be the innovator. We only want you to let Matthew do his job. You'll think this is all bad for awhile, but then you'll understand. You'll be a lot happier focusing on future products."
He let out a huge, exasperated sigh. "For Chrissake, Peter, we love you."
Peter slowly rose to his feet. Matthew was rounding the table, coming toward him.
"And if I don't agree to all this?" Peter said to Hank.
"I'm afraid it's the only option you've got."
Peter could think of a few others. For example, he thought with morbid pleasure, he could pummel Matthew with punches, that was one option, or he could choke him until he turned red, then blue, then black and begged for his life while everyone sat there as they had through the whole meeting, staring at their f.u.c.king yellow pads, just dying to lift their pens, Wallaby logo pens, and begin calculating what their stock options would be worth after today's news got out.
And wasn't that what it all came down to in the end, he asked himself. Wasn't that what he'd used to lure each and every one of them there? The bottom line. Didn't they understand that for him, it wasn't the money. His life's happiness was the bottom line.
And he had just lost it. With this thought a deep dread coursed through his chest. He thought of last night, and he felt a shudder, as though an ice-cold fear had poked its finger into his r.e.c.t.u.m. He felt as if he were about to defecate, right there for all of them to witness, his grand exit. He was coming apart from the inside out.
With every last ounce of strength he willed himself to stop shaking, to compose himself as best he could. He lifted his chin.
"Wallaby is my life," he said, his voice high and distraught.
"But as you've all determined for me, that doesn't matter anymore."
Matthew came closer. "It doesn't have to end like this," he said.
"I want you to stay with me. I want you to make our future while I manage the present." He reached out to Peter.
"Don't you come near me!" Peter screamed, flinging his hands into the air. Several of the people in the room jumped in their seats, groaning in agony at what they were being forced to witness.
Their eyes linked for the last time. "You've stolen my life, Matthew." He faced the people seated at he table. But he had nothing more to say. He turned and charged for the door.
Martin Cohn leapt from his chair and started after him.
"Leave him," Hank ordered, fixing his eyes sharply on Matthew.
The door slowly and silently swung inward, sealing the new team together inside the room for the first time without Peter Jones.
Matthew couldn't see Hank's gaze. He was facing the sunlit window, staring down at his clenched fists. He willed them to relax. And as he watched them uncurl, he felt his guilt slip away. And in its place he grasped a new feeling.
Power.
Chapter 4