About a week later, Bruce shaved and showered and put on a suit. Annie was the first to notice.
“Wow, Bruce, you really look great.”
“You think so?”
“I second that,” Jessica said, looking up from her laptop. She and Annie sat in his living room, which had seen better days. The makeshift PR war room for Bruce’s case just couldn’t seem to stay neat, no matter how much Mme Dechamps fussed with it.
Extension cords ran in all directions, feeding power to a small army of laptops, a fax machine, and a paper shredder. Despite all the clutter, little progress had been made in Bruce’s case. They all still waited to hear what other charges the D.A. might throw at him in the Robin Platt case. Meanwhile, Jessica kept plugging away at the PR campaign, even though it seemed more and more avenues for positive PR dried up every day. Morning shows weren’t interested in promoting innocent Bruce anymore. Most of them were desperate to get a Jane Doe exclusive. They were offering to shadow her face, disguise her voice, anything to get the accuser on television, but so far Jane Doe remained elusive.
“I thought it was about time I stopped sulking,” Bruce said, and straightened his tie.
“Besides, I want to look good when I get fired today.”
“Bruce, you own the company. They can’t fire you,” Annie said. This much was true. He was the chairman of the board of directors at Patman Social Impact Group. The company had already invested in projects that built waste-product renewing plants and experimental methods of cleaning water.
Before the scandal broke, Bruce and Patman Social Impact had acquired prime real estate for a wind-powered plant to clean water, beating out Rick Warner of Warner Natural Gas for the same stretch of land. But yesterday, word came in that the EPA planned to deny them the permits they needed to develop the land.
Skittish members on the board had called an emergency meeting for that afternoon to deal with the news. Bruce couldn’t blame them, even when he’d heard a rumor they might want to take a vote of no confidence in him.
“Don’t let them bully you,” Jessica told him.
“It’s okay, I can handle it.” And for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could. Yes, he was heartbroken over Elizabeth’s leaving, but he’d never been the kind of guy to sit around and wallow in self-pity. At least, not for long. The company needed him, and so did Sweet Valley. The land deal wasn’t just some other business deal that fell through. If Rick Warner got ahold of that land, he’d mine it for natural gas, and with Warner’s controversial fracking methods, Bruce really believed the drinking water of the entire county could be at risk. He had seen the documentaries of people lighting their tap water on fire. He wasn’t going to let that happen in his hometown.
And despite what Elizabeth or anyone else thought, he was a good guy, and he was going to show them all.
He climbed into his Porsche, tearing through the gate just as it slid open. He didn’t stop to offer quotes to the paparazzi still hanging around the sidewalk. And he didn’t bother slowing down.
Patman Social Impact Group took up the entire top floor of a glassed-in office building near the freeway. Bruce parked in his usual spot, front and center, and walked past the security guard in the lobby, who gave him a respectful nod as he passed.
Most of the board was already there when Bruce arrived. He grabbed a few notes and files from his assistant, Jill, on the way in.
“What’s the mood like in there?” Bruce asked her.
“Bad,” she said. “There are rumors they’re going to ask you to step down. Is that true?”
“It might be.”
“But you can’t let them do it,” Jill pressed. “You’re the heart and soul of this company. And…and…it’s just not right.”
“Sometimes things just aren’t fair,” Bruce said. “But whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.”
Bruce took a deep breath and stepped into the boardroom. Conversations stopped midsentence as he walked briskly to the head of the glass conference room table. At least no one had taken his seat yet.
He glanced at the members of the board, some of whom he’d known for years. Few of them would actually look him in the eye. These were the men and women he’d golfed with, strategized with, and trusted with his company. They were like family. And now they were planning a mutiny.
“I call this meeting to order,” Bruce said.
“I ask for a no-confidence vote,” called Don Edgewater. Of all the board members, Don was the one Bruce knew least well. He’d come on board late, after the initial start-up, and they’d never really clicked. Not that it mattered now.
“Ladies and gentleman, a no-confidence vote won’t be necessary,” Bruce began.
A few, including Don, protested loudly.
“Let the man finish!” declared Thomas LeGrange, Missy’s father and trustee of the Patman Estate. Bruce was grateful to Thomas for at least allowing him the opportunity to speak.
“As I was saying,” Bruce continued. “A vote won’t be necessary because, effective today, I am voluntarily stepping down from my position as president of the board of directors of Patman Social Impact.”
Shocked gasps met the news. Even Don Edgewater was speechless. Bruce barreled on, determined to see this through.
“I realize that my personal life has become a distraction to the business of this company, and I do not want anything to interfere with the mission of Patman Social Impact.” Bruce took a deep breath and continued. “What we’re doing here is far more important than one person. I ask the board to continue the fight to win approval for our project. I think we all know the stakes if Warner Natural Gas manages to get that land. Potentially, it could affect the groundwater from San Diego to Los Angeles. Should that water become polluted, millions of people will be affected, including our own families. I ask the board to appeal the EPA’s ruling and seek another way to keep this project viable. We owe it to ourselves, to our communities, and to our families to see this project through.”
Several board members nodded their heads in agreement.
“I know every one of you personally,” Bruce continued as he met the gaze of each man and woman sitting around the table. “And I know that all of you believe in the importance of leaving the world in a better place than when we found it. I ask you to continue on in that spirit. That means I’m asking you to continue this fight. Our future and our neighborhoods depend on it.”
As Bruce finished, enthusiastic applause met his words, and every one of the board members gave him a standing ovation, even a reluctant Don Edgewater.
He nodded a thank-you in response, certain that he had done the right thing. Too bad Elizabeth wasn’t here to see this, he thought. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so quick to doubt him. Then, maybe she wouldn’t see him as a monster. As soon as he had the thought, he hated that he was still trying to prove himself to her.
When would he stop caring what she thought?