That part was accurate in its own crooked way. The rest he would handle as it came. Serena, for her part, had composed herself into something that looked entirely natural. She had the specific talent of the very experienced executive, the ability to occupy a public setting with her full attention, while simultaneously running a separate private calculation behind her eyes. She answered questions from the other guests at the table with the kind of warmth that didn't ask for anything back the kind Ethan recognized.
From the few teachers Maisie had who were genuinely good at their jobs rather than just technically competent, Gerald, on her other side had taken a liking to her immediately, which did not surprise Ethan at all. Gerald was the sort of man who had lived long enough to stop being impressed by credentials and had arrived at a place where what he responded to was simply whether a person was worth talking to. Serena, it turned out was 17 years, Gerald was saying, addressing both of them with the easy inclusion of someone who had decided they were a unit. My wife dragged me to the first one, complained the whole drive over. And then we sat down and the woman next to us told us about this program they'd funded that year, training high school kids in electrical work.
And I thought, well, that's something real. That's not just a dinner party with a bow on it. He paused to take a sip of soup. My wife passed 3 years ago. I still come.
Because it's still real, Serena asked. Gerald looked at her. Because she would have wanted me to, he said simply. And because I'm too old to stop doing things for good reasons, just because the original reason changed. Serena was quiet for a moment.
That's a better answer than most people give, she said. Most people your age overthink the whole thing, Gerald said without unkindness. You think you have to justify every choice you make with a strategy. Sometimes you just keep showing up because showing up is what decent people do. Ethan watched Serena absorb this.
She didn't deflect it or manage it the way he might have expected a person of her professional calibration to manage an unsolicited piece of wisdom from an elderly stranger. She just received it, and something in her expression settled slightly. The way a room felt different after someone opened a window that had been painted shut for too long. " He's right, you know," Ethan said. after Gerald had turned back to Diane.
Don't start, Serena said. I haven't said anything yet. You were about to say something wise in a simple way, and I would prefer to eat my soup. That's actually a fair characterization, Ethan said. The corner of her mouth moved, not quite, but close.
Across the room, Victor Langden was doing what Victor Langden had presumably been doing all evening, working the space. Ethan watched him without appearing to watch him. the way you learned to keep track of things on the periphery without committing your direct attention to them. Victor moved through the room with the particular ease of a man who had done the same room many times and knew which conversations were investments and which were maintenance. He stopped at tables, leaned in, smiled the carefully calibrated smile, moved on.
The two men he'd brought were running slightly behind him, nodding at the right moments. Daniel Blackwood had not moved from Victor's orbit. This was the thing Ethan kept returning to. He didn't know the family history in detail. He knew only the outline.
But there was something specific in the way Daniel moved through the room that looked less like fraternal concern and more like managed interest. He watched Serena the way people watched assets they had a stake in. Your brother, Ethan said quietly. Is he on your side? Serena took a small sip of wine.
Daniel is Daniel's side, she said without bitterness or heat. He always has been. I made peace with that a long time ago, but he's been talking to Victor. Daniel talks to everyone. He calls it staying informed.
It's more accurate to say he bets on whoever he thinks is winning and repositions when the odds change. She paused. He's been in my corner before, when it suited him. He'll be in my corner again if tonight goes well. And if it doesn't, she looked at him directly.
Then it won't matter whose corner he's in, she said. It'll be over. Ethan set down his spoon. Walk me through what over actually looks like," he said. Specifically, Serena was quiet for a moment.
The kind of quiet that wasn't reluctance so much as precision she was organizing the information before she released it. The way you checked the weight distribution of a load before moving it. Victor has been cultivating three board members for the past 6 months, she said, keeping her voice below the orchestra. He's convinced them that a deal I declined last spring, a significant logistics partnership with a group called the Meridian Consortium, was an error of judgment on my part. His argument is that I let personal concerns override business strategy.
Did you? She looked at him with an expression that suggested she appreciated the directness, even if she hadn't expected it. No, she said the Meridian Consortium had exposure to two regulatory investigations I was aware of that the board wasn't fully briefed on at the time. accepting that deal would have been a disaster in approximately 18 months. I declined it and I kept the reasons private because publicizing them would have required disclosing information that wasn't mine to disclose yet.
So, you made the right call, Ethan said, and it looked like the wrong one. That's the situation. Yes, and Victor knows the real reason. She paused slightly. Victor may know more than he should about several things, she said carefully.
Ethan considered this, so it's not just a board challenge. Someone gave him information. That's what I believe. Someone inside the company. Yes.