does have a process for removing its founder from leadership,” I said.
“It requires formal board action under the company’s governing documents.”
I looked toward the board members seated closest to the stage.
“Was there a vote?”
Silence.
One director shook his head.
Another said, “No.”
The word traveled farther through the ballroom than any speech Grant had given all evening.
Madison’s fingers tightened around the microphone.
Grant stared toward the board table.
“This was an internal management decision,” he said.
A director answered him before I could.
“Not one you had authority to make.”
A murmur moved across the room.
Madison lifted her chin.
“Legal was aware.”
I nodded.
“Yes.
Grant used those exact words this morning.”
I pulled another page from the folder.
“Legal being aware of an attempted action is not the same as legal approving it.”
This time, several people laughed quietly.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the balance of power had shifted so suddenly that nervousness needed somewhere to go.
Madison looked toward Grant.
It was the first time all night she had looked at him for help rather than admiration.
He leaned toward me.
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
The cruelty of it was almost elegant.
He had announced my invented illness to three hundred people, kissed his mistress onstage, and tried to hand her my company.
Yet in his version of reality, my refusal to cooperate was the embarrassing part.
I studied him for a moment.
“No, Grant.
I’m correcting the record.”
I turned to the room.
“I have not resigned.
I have not requested medical leave.
I have not authorized anyone to announce otherwise.”
The cameras at the back of the ballroom were still pointed toward us.
Grant noticed them too.
His voice dropped.
“Think carefully about what you’re doing.”
“I have been doing that all day.”
I returned the termination letter to the folder.
Madison spoke quickly.
“This is getting ridiculous.
Evelyn, you’ve been under enormous pressure.
Everyone knows that.
We were trying to protect you.”
There it was again.
Protect.
A softer word for control.
I looked at her white satin gown, the pearls at her throat, the bracelet on her wrist.
“You told employees I screamed at you today.”
Her expression barely moved.
“You were emotional.”
