He decided to forego the mobile office and trek the four miles or so to the meeting on foot, with every intention of organizing his thoughts along the way.
He should have spent the time pondering why Prescott was gladly paying for what had become a pretty expensive trip from Boston just to allow Ryan to attend his own board’s meeting. Or maybe why Prescott wanted him to join the board before he officially accepted a job. Or whether or not today would be the day he’d bring up all the dirt he and Dillon had dug up on Avillage — in what would very likely be his only meeting with Prescott. But his mind was stuck on Annamaria and a simple but impactful life in a small town on the Caribbean Sea. That had to mean something.
CHAPTER 16
Above the Avillage headquarters, a towering cumulonimbus cloud mushroomed heavenward in an otherwise cloudless sky, nearly black at the low-lying base, brightening to a vivid white at the pillowy top, with infinite shades of gray in between, each subtle tone intensified by the brilliant light reflecting off of it from a blazing sun that seemed out of place in the same sky.
Ryan paused just outside the building, running half an hour early, intent on not allowing Prescott to catch him off guard again. He had hoped he would have been able to scout the lobby from outside, but the mirrored glass of the first floor made it impossible to tell if anyone was watching from inside. And if he were being watched, he would’ve already been spotted, so he really left himself no other option but to head right in.
Pushing the revolving door through clockwise, he entered the lobby and immediately glanced over his right shoulder to make sure Prescott wasn’t lying in wait behind him, ready to revel in Ryan’s startled reaction as he called out his name. He wasn’t. Where he was, clearly, was inside Ryan’s head.
A young woman in a neat gray suit intercepted him on his way to the security desk, introducing herself only as Mr. Prescott’s assistant. Without ever asking for his name, she invited him to follow her into the first elevator in a bank of six and pressed the “45” button, waving her security badge in front of a small black authenticator. A tiny light turned from red to green as the doors closed, and they rode up alone.
Prescott’s assistant seemed perfectly comfortable with the silence in the elevator, but Ryan didn’t want to waste an opportunity.
As the elevator raced through the thirties, Ryan casually asked, “So, how do you like working for Mr. Prescott?” focusing more on her expression than her answer.
“It’s exciting to work for a man with vision,” she said. Overall it came off as sincere, if somewhat rehearsed.
He would’ve liked the chance to ask a few follow-up questions, but a chime indicating they’d reached their floor kept him quiet.
The top floor was a little taller than the others, with fifteen foot ceilings dotted with recessed halogen lighting. The sterile slate floors along with the glass and stainless steel office furniture belied the fact that the corporation was essentially a holding company for children.
Prescott’s assistant showed Ryan into the conference room and invited him to choose whichever seat he liked at the large oak table. He was the first to arrive.
“Mr. Prescott will be joining you at four,” she said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or a glass of water while you wait?”
“Water would be good. Thank you,” Ryan said, wondering why she hadn’t said, “The board members will be joining you at four.” Maybe Prescott was the only one she thought she could speak for.
The assistant returned shortly with a tall glass of water and placed it on the table in front of Ryan. “The restroom is just outside the boardroom to your left,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Ryan nodded politely.
“Oh, and I apologize that you won’t be able to get any cell phone reception in the boardroom. This is by Mr. Prescott’s design. Feel free to use the phone on the wall if you need to make a call. And of course you’re more than welcome to sit in the reception area if you need to check your messages.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said, suddenly wishing he were meeting with Prescott anywhere else but on his home turf.
At ten till four Ryan was still all alone in the boardroom. His nervous fingers unconsciously spun the empty water glass in front of him in a tight circle on the table, as his eyes raced back and forth between the window and the clock. Showing up early, it turned out, had not been the right play.
The bathroom was right next door, and his bladder, he decided, probably wasn’t going to make it through an entire meeting. Whatever the case, in his current frame of mind, any change of scenery struck him as a good idea.
He paused in front of the restroom mirror for a silent pep talk before returning to the boardroom, focused and ready. He’d expected at least one other person would have arrived, but when he opened the door, all the chairs were still empty.
The meeting was supposed to start in less than five minutes! Where was everyone? Prescott was known for his punctuality. Maybe he was planning a coordinated grand entrance to give a daunting eight-against-one feel.
At three fifty-nine, Ryan was still sitting alone. By force of habit, he pulled out his phone to check for a message, perhaps that the meeting time had been changed, but he was quickly reminded that he had no service. He slid his phone back in his pocket and bounced his right leg nervously on the ground.
By the time he looked back up, Prescott had silently materialized in the doorway. Ryan’s whole body jumped almost imperceptibly. Almost. Somehow Prescott had gotten him again.
He quickly rose to shake Prescott’s hand, taking care to match Prescott’s firm grip precisely. Their hands were similarly sized, but Prescott’s felt thinner; Ryan thought he looked generally thinner than he ever had on TV. Then again, he hadn’t been on TV much recently. Similar in height, they naturally looked each other straight in the eye. Ryan had to fight the tendency to break the handshake or eye contact first.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally,” Prescott said with a cordial smile, finally releasing his grip. “Welcome to New York. And thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”
He turned to close the door.
“Won’t the other board members be joining us?” Ryan asked.
“No, they won’t,” Prescott said nonchalantly.
What?! Ryan thought. Is he trying to pull some kind of bait and switch? Prescott was known for keeping his associates guessing, but he didn’t flat out lie to them. “I was under the impression that there would be a meeting of my board today,” he said, trying to keep a steady tone.
“That’s because that’s what I told you,” Prescott said with a smirk, lowering himself into the seat directly across the table from Ryan.
Ryan was starting to boil inside. He briefly thought about how satisfying it would be, on so many levels, just to walk out of the room without another word, pick up Annamaria at her hotel and leave for Panama straightaway, never to be heard from again. But, he reminded himself, he may never get this opportunity again. “So what changed?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Prescott said, sensing Ryan was tiring of his evasiveness.
Ryan looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. He didn’t appreciate being played. “Mr. Prescott, please realize that my time is very valuable — if not to the board members, to me. I’m going to give you one warning. Atlas is seriously considering shrugging, and if I do, it’ll send waves — not ripples — all through your market.”