She looked at me, then back at him.
“We have a problem upstairs.”
Grant rose.
“What problem?”
“The board packet won’t open.”
He stared at her.
“What do you mean it won’t open?”
“Access was revoked.”
His gaze snapped toward me.
I said nothing.
Vanessa swallowed.
“And my executive credentials stopped working.”
Grant pulled out his own phone, tapped quickly, then tried again.
His expression flattened.
“My account is locked.”
That was Ruth’s first move.
The contingency plan did not hand her control of my company.
It did something simpler and far more important: it froze the ability of anyone named in my sealed instruction to exercise emergency authority until a court could review the circumstances.
Grant had insisted for years that contingency planning was paranoia.
Fortunately, paranoia does not need permission from the person planning to betray you.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor.
Ruth Caldwell appeared first.
She was still wearing the dark suit she had worn to an afternoon hearing, her silver-streaked hair pulled back, a thick folder tucked beneath one arm.
Behind her came our CFO and two members of the company’s outside security team.
Grant stared at them.
“What is this?”
Ruth did not look at him immediately.
She came directly to me.
“Evelyn, are you able to tell me where you are?”
“The company medical room.”
“What happened?”
“I drank champagne Vanessa handed me.
I collapsed.
I woke up while Grant and Vanessa were discussing an emergency authorization that would transfer control before morning.”
Vanessa went white.
Grant laughed once.
It sounded terrible.
“That is not what happened.”
Ruth finally turned toward him.
“I didn’t ask you.”
He pointed at me.
“She’s clearly disoriented.”
“Then you’ll agree she shouldn’t sign documents.”
Silence.
Grant realized the trap one second too late.
“Obviously,” he said.
Ruth looked at the open folder beside my bed.
“Then you won’t mind if I take that.”
He moved faster than I expected.
His hand landed on the folder first.
“That contains privileged family documents.”
“No,” I said.
“It contains company letterhead.”
The CFO stepped into the doorway.
Grant looked at him with naked irritation.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
