Chapter 5

"Welcome, Madam; good morning." Vivian's personal assistant, Rachel Blackwell, greeted her as soon as she saw her rushing into the building, collecting her suitcase from her.

"How do you do, Rachel?" Vivian responded by smiling in spite of her haste and, at the same time, flexing her arm to check her watch.

"Oh my God, it's 8:30; I'm late." She said hurriedly.

"Yes, ma'am, but not to worry, Mr. Maxwell is taking care of everything."

"Mr. Maxwell, what do you mean?" Vivian asked, wearing a mask of astonishment.

"I mean, he is holding a meeting with all the company stakeholders in your stead right now in the boardroom."

"How long ago?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Is Richard there?"

"Yes, Madam." She heaved a sigh and brought out her phone, noticing Richard's missed call notifications.

"He even called me thrice," she whispered.

"Anyway, go drop the suitcase in my office. Please be easy with it; there are delicate things inside it. I will join them now at this minute.

Rachael made a respectful gesture before proceeding upstairs.

When Vivian got to the conference room, she immediately locked eyes with Maxwell, who was comfortably occupying the executive seat reserved for the manager, which was herself. He got up, feigning surprise at her appearance.

"Oh, the manager has just arrived.” He announced in the same pretentious manner.

"Please, let’s give her a round of applause.” He said while gesturing to the seat next to him, which was actually his usual seat, asking Vivian to sit on it, but Vivian stood firmly, shaking her head.

“Thanks for standing in my absence, Maxwell.” She said calmly.

“But no, you may now kindly adjust back to your seat.” She added.

“Oh,” Maxwell exclaimed, looking at the seat again like he was just realizing he was sitting there.

“The meeting is almost over, Madam... I don’t want you overworking yourself; just sit here inst…"

“Young man, the lady just said you should exit her damned seat!” Richard Davenport, Scarlett’s uncle, interrupted from where he was sitting at the back, raising his voice. He was someone most of the staff avoided getting in trouble with.

He had a brutal face, which complemented his baritone voice, a feature that Vivian had really been grateful for and had found really helpful, especially after her husband passed away. It really helped in putting overzealous people like Maxwell and some of the other stubborn members of staff in their place.

“It’s not that deep, big guy.” Maxwell retorted before standing up and allowing Vivian to take back her seat.

After sitting down, she brought her hands together and said,

"Like I said, thank you guys for sticking around in my absence. I really apologize for the brief delay." She quickly said and then clapped her hands lightly.

"Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let's begin from where we stopped. I think we are on point 8 on the company’s module, am I correct?"

"Actually, not correct, madam." Maxwell cut in, adjusting his tie.

"I think we've gone past all that this morning when you were absent. We are now on point 14, which deals with revolutionizing customer interaction in the workplace."

"Excuse me," Vivian asked with disdain plastered on her face.

"Mr. Maxwell, what meeting are you talking about? As much as I celebrate your efforts as my assistant, I need you to let this sink in with you, so listen carefully. The only meetings scheduled in this corporation are those instituted by Vivian Davenport, the current manager of Davenport Corporation. Not her assistant or even my twin, if any. So, except you are Vivian Davenport you have no power whatsoever to institute meetings when I'm not there. And please again, Mr. Maxwell, let this be the last time I will be interrupted when making comments in this meeting; otherwise, it will come with grave consequences. Am I clear on this?”

“She is asking if you grab that fast guy." Richard’s voice came again with a mocking tinge, giving a nod to Vivian’s question.

Maxwell lifted his hands and said, "Oh, clear... I mean, I was only trying to help, but it’s clear we don’t have a problem,” he said.

“Good," Vivian said.

"Now that we are on the same page, we will go back to point 8; those in support of that, raise your hands.” She instructed, watching with a small snarl as everyone in the hall raised their hands. Maxwell fumbled a bit with his hands before eventually raising them.

“Good,” Vivian said again before they proceeded with the meeting.

At the close of the meeting, Maxwell went back to his office, closing the door behind him.

“Bunch of jokers.” He swore beneath his breath that he had taken his seat and was barely properly seated when his door opened again, revealing the face of his colleague and best friend, Michael Carlson. Michael had also been present at the meeting they held earlier, so when he entered wearing a derisive grin on his face, Maxwell could immediately tell why.

"Hey, if you have come to rub shit on my face like that clown of a manager and her underdog, better take cover because I’ll just leave a punch on your sorry face.”

Michael let out a small cackle and said, “Easy man, I'm just here to give my friend some moral support.” He said and cackled a bit louder than before, but when he noticed Maxwell’s small sneer.

He waved his hand and said, “Alright, Alright I’m sorry, ok, but those guys really did a number on you.”

"Forget them.” Maxwell fumed, throwing his hands. “What do you expect?" He continued.

“What do you expect from a semi-literate widow who barely knows the basics of company management and people administration?"

“I see that.” Michael concurred.

“But why don’t you just let them be, since it’s obvious they don’t want you at the helm of affairs?” He went on to ask.

“Want me? Bull talk! Who needs their love? I told her to let me assist her for so many reasons, and I’m pretty sure that wanting me is not part of that list.”

"Hmm, what do you mean?”

"Listen, Mike, it’s obvious these guys are not serious about taking this company forward. Look at Vivian. She spends six days a week touring different countries with different dicks, yet she has the guts to appear from the middle of nowhere to claim manager. Manager, my pale ass. Take a look at her so-called brother-in-law, a privileged thug; I’m not even sure he can even read a sentence. We are sitting on a gold mine, bro, and I’m not taking my chances; slowly and slowly, I’m working my way to the top of the ladder, and if it doesn’t work, I sabotage their dry heads."

Michael made a mockingly wary expression.

“That’s it; I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, bro. Meanwhile, I guess it's time for me to also sabotage the mountain of work waiting for me at the office if you please.” He said, making a quick comical turn out of the office.

Maxwell rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Whatever.” He said.