*Clack~ Clack~ Clack~ Clack~ Clack~ Clack~*
The rhythmic sound of the two footsteps produced a synergistic symphony carrying both calm and sharpness. Grace, graceful and elegant as ever, walked in front of Leyna through the wide corridors overlooking much of the modern metropolis.
Their heels carried them to a large door which Leyna stepped forward to push in and make way for the woman who had spent decades at the head of the powerful multinational giant.
The large conference room with a tasteful and sober design fell silent with their arrival. Grace didn't pay that any mind and walked straight to the seat at the head of the polished marble table.
Only after Leyna came to stand behind her did she finally sweep her eyes over the occupied seats around the oval table. Eight seats, eight occupants, eight men and women, each one a smaller head of the top multinational giant, each one an influential powerhouse capable of at least shaking the domain they specialized in with a single stomp of the foot.
Most prominent at the table were Grace's brother-in-law, Marten Lenner directly to her right, the vice-chairman in charge of financial strategy and finances, and right across from him, a middle-aged man looking only a few years younger, with a noticeable resemblance with him, only with a less stern appearance, eyes of a modest blue, a casual smile on his face, and a head of hair with a deeper black still filled with much vitality. That was Sigurd Lenner, the third son born after Marten, the board director in charge of strategic planning.
Down the line after Marten was a woman who looked no younger than him but appeared well-maintained, a female version of him with a face just as stern, and even more inexpressive, Diana Macy Park, in charge of governance and compensation. Then came the director in charge of legal and regulatory work, Riz Lotter, a blond-haired middle-aged man looking like a mature version of Lance. And finally, following him, there was another woman, younger, at least in appearance, and warmer than the first one. It was Margaret Davis, the director sitting in the chair of the audit committee.
On the left, after Sigurd, was David J. Wonko, the director of the international expansion committee, a portly middle-aged man with a strong appearance and dry-looking but well-styled hair, followed by the third female director in the room, Dr. Sarah Levinston, fair-skinned and bookish with her glasses, but confidently authoritative. At last, at the end of the line was the eighth director at the table, Terry Grimshaw, the minor shareholders' representative, a thin man whose glasses failed to give him the same scholarly look as the female director beside him, instead, adding to his pointy jaw and gloomy face to give him a scheming appearance, especially with his smile which did a poor job hiding his arrogance.
After sweeping her eyes over all the faces at the table, Grace pulled back her gaze, her calm expression betraying none of her thoughts. Shifting in her seat, she seemed to let loose an invisible aura which fell upon the room, then spoke with calm, natural authority, breaking the silence that had settled in with her arrival:
"Let the meeting of the board of directors for the new quarter begin."
_ _ _
_ _ _
The sun, as indifferent as a month ago, or rather, as it had always been, continued on its way. It had passed its zenith a while ago, now painting the western skyline a gold that was close to dimming into an orange shade already.
In the large conference room on the top floor of Arland Group, there was silence. The time that had passed had not gone without leaving its traces, whether in the features only still full of vigor by virtue of the determination all those present had cultivated throughout the decades they had taken to climb to their respective peaks, or on the table, where documents were now scattered before each chair holder. But along with the silence, was a hint of relaxation.
After hours, with another item wrapped up, the meeting was close to the end, and rest was not far, rest or just freedom. However, that sense of relaxation didn't last more than a second or two before tightening up into a quiet tension.
As those present held the breath they had just taken, Grace looked at the gathered assembly, and directed the meeting to the last point of the agenda:
"Now that we are done reviewing the activities of the last period, let us focus on the strategy of the Group, and if there is no problem, keep its main lines unchanged for the next quarter."
The directors looked at each other, and soon, some sported obscure meanings on their faces as they observed and waited for something to happen, something they looked to have been expecting, something they had been sure had a high chance of happening..
Subtly or not, most gazes went on to linger on the directors with the weightiest surname present. Sigurd kept his casual smile unchanged, while Marten remained serious, stern as always. It was then that the portly director beside Sigurd squarely faced Grace, and spoke:
"Chairwoman, according to the financial reports and market analysis, I think I am not the only one to have noticed that Arland Group seems to be stagnating."
The man's gaze swept around, then he continued, his steady tone barely covering his sharpness:
"Moreover, there has been a dip in the profits in the last dozen quarters. So, maybe, you owe us an explanation, Chairwoman."
Grace looked at the rest, some of whom remained calm while others avoided her gaze, then came to rest her eyes on Marten, before looking at the director who spoke. Her expression didn't change. In response to the somewhat accusatory words, she calmly but pointedly asked:
"Is that why some are skirting around the edges of the strategy agreed upon by the board of directors for the Group's operations and investments?"
The expression of many directors flickered before returning to normal. The director who spoke earlier suppressed the twitch at the corner of his mouth. While he was still readying his warning shot, the chairwoman was already aiming at the heart, his or someone else's. The portly director kept his eyes on Grace and retorted with forced intensity in his tone:
"Chairwoman, you said skirting around the edges, not outright going against the strategy of the Group, so that is not reason enough for you to avoid the subject I raised, won't you say so? I think having occupied the seat at the head of the Group for a long time, your management has become rigid, just like the position of the Group on the market now, and there is a need for something, for someone different, to push the Group forward."
Grace showed no surprise. She only questioned:
"I suppose someone like Marten Lenner?"
And the director nodded with no nervousness, obviously with no intention of backing down:
"Yes, like director Marten Lenner, who has also been the vice-chairman of the Group long enough to have the required experience, and who is also a Lenner. And many would agree with me on that, because it is thanks to him that the performance of the Group has not declined as much as it should have."
Grace turned to her brother-in-law:
"Is that so?"
Marten's expression didn't waver, neither refuting nor acknowledging the words of the one who spoke for him. And he did not reply to Grace either.
Grace's lake green eyes showed no fluctuation. She nodded lightly, then swept her eyes around:
"I'm happy that everyone here is more driven and ambitious than the actual heir of the Group…"
Marten showed a slight frown on his face, but before anyone could interject, Grace corrected her words:
"Or rather, the prospective heir to the chair of the Group. Not being content is necessary to support the desire for advancement."
The room quieted down, and the silence grew to carry a pervasive weight not too oppressive, but decidedly there.
Grace's words brought no smile despite sounding like a praise or an acknowledgment. And indeed, in the next moment, her words took a turn as she calmly spat out a conjunctive:
"However, jeopardizing the strategy of the Group with single-minded focus on immediate gains and personal ambitions is unacceptable."
Sweeping her eyes around, she shifted from targeting one person and continued:
"We are one of the biggest multinationals in the world, a giant on the market with our feet in almost every domain, and I strongly believe we are past blindly pursuing performance and profits. What Arland Group is after, should be after, now, is longevity. Remember that the wind never stops, and we must not either, not if we want to keep our place at the top, not if we want a steady existence instead of a rocky crash."
The conference table in the middle of the group of powerful men and women suddenly seemed to become very interesting, as the directors lowered their gazes to admire its luster, especially as Grace's calm presence pressed down on the room.
Her eyes moved to Marten as she continued:
"And while our profits have taken a dip in the last few years, our performances have not, as you all know, as you all should know. If anything, it has kept steadily growing, something that is obvious to all. If, despite that, you would rather pursue immediate profits, I, as the matriarch of the Lenner family, the chairwoman of the Group, and the mother of the heir, would be more than happy to buy back the shares you have in your hands. And I will make sure to give you a price that will satisfy you."
Silence. Nobody spoke as the words lingered in the large room, calm but powerful. After what seemed like an oppressive eternity during which no one felt like taking the offer, Grace swept her eyes around one last time, then pulled back the heavy weight of her calm gaze and stood up:
"Meeting adjourned."
Dropping those words with a cutting, definitive tone, Grace walked out of the room, never looking back, never hesitating in her steps.