Chapter 3 - The Boardroom on Atlantic Avenue
At 8:45 AM, the executive boardroom on the top floor of Scott Maritime Global was bathed in the crisp, pale morning light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Boston Harbor.
Ethan stood by the sixty-foot mahogany conference table, smoothing the lapels of his fresh bespoke navy suit. His hair was slicked back with expensive pomade, his silver cufflinks gleaming under the recessed lighting.
Beside him, Maya Lin sat in one of the high-backed ergonomic leather chairs, wearing a stylish gray skirt suit, adjusting her iPad with nervous, hurried fingers. She still wore Ethan’s charcoal blazer over the back of her chair like a trophy.
“Did Claire check into the hotel yet?” Ethan asked, pacing the length of the room, his voice tight with irritation. “Her phone is going straight to voicemail. If she misses this pitch, I’m going to have the managing partners formally reprimand her for professional dereliction.”
Maya looked up, offering that practiced, wide-eyed look of innocent concern. “Ethan, I feel so awful. What if she’s really upset about the train? Maybe I should have just sat in the back with the family.”
Ethan waved his hand dismissively, letting out a sharp scoff. “Don't be ridiculous, Maya. Claire is thirty-two years old and throwing a passive-aggressive tantrum because she’s hormonal. She knows how critical this account is for my promotion to Senior Managing Partner. She’ll show up five minutes before nine, looking sour, and she’ll sit quietly and let me run the room like she always does. She wouldn't dare blow an eighty-five-million-dollar deal.”
The heavy frosted glass double doors clicked open.
Ethan immediately shifted into his polished, high-society charm mode, plastering a wide, million-dollar smile across his face as he turned toward the entrance.
“Captain Scott! An absolute honor to—"
The words died in his throat.
Walking through the doors was Arthur Scott, dressed in a sharp dark charcoal suit that made him look like a retired admiral.
And walking beside him, holding a leather folder under her arm, was me.
I wore a tailored black wool sheath dress, my dark hair falling in soft, immaculate waves around my shoulders, my chin lifted, my cheeks glowing with a faint, healthy pink flush.
Ethan’s mouth remained slightly open. His eyes flicked from my face down to my bare left hand holding the folder, then over to Arthur Scott’s expression of unyielding granite.
“Claire?” Ethan stammered, his smile flickering like a dying bulb. “You... you’re already here? Why didn't you answer my calls? I was worried sick about you!”
“I was having breakfast with Captain Scott, Ethan,” I said, my voice smooth, echoing off the glass walls with total composure. “We had some operational details to finalize.”
Maya quickly scrambled to her feet, her cheeks burning red. “Claire! I’m so glad you made it! Look, I saved you a seat right here beside Ethan—"
“Sit down, Miss Lin,” Arthur Scott commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it possessed the thunderous weight of a man who had shouted commands over hurricane winds.
Maya froze, her hands hovering above the leather chair, then awkwardly sank back down, pulling Ethan’s blazer tightly around her shoulders as if it could hide her from the room.
Ethan quickly cleared his throat, stepping toward the head of the table, pulling his wireless presentation clicker from his pocket. “Well, Captain Scott, we have prepared an exhaustive, state-of-the-art overview of how Vance Sterling Capital will optimize your firm’s maritime liquidity—"
“Save your breath, son,” Arthur Scott interrupted, walking to the head of the table and pulling out the massive high-backed leather captain’s chair for me.
I took the seat without hesitation, placing my leather portfolio flat on the mahogany wood.
Arthur turned to Ethan, his eyes cold as Arctic sea ice.
“You see that row of folding chairs against the back wall near the water cooler, Ethan?” Arthur asked, pointing with his pen toward a cluster of modest plastic seats tucked into the far corner of the room.
May you like
Ethan blinked, completely disoriented. “Excuse me, Captain?”
“That’s your seat for today’s meeting,” Arthur said evenly. “The back row. Away from the windows. I hear you’re very passionate about putting people where they belong when they need a little room to breathe.”
