This changes Monday. I'll be there in person. 8:00 a.m. He set his phone down and looked at the motel ceiling, which had the same texture as the ceiling in the Cambria side office and the same water stain placement as the one in Phoenix at the extended stay he'd lived in for 4 months after the mortgage went. He'd spent a lot of time in the past four years looking at motel ceilings, and he was tired of it in a way that went past tired into something more structural. He thought about Lily's cereal boxes sitting in the side office mini fridge.
He thought about pancakes. He thought about Diane saying his name for the first time in 6 months. He thought about none of those things because Monday was 12 hours away. He went to sleep. The board meeting was held in a conference room on the 32nd floor with a view of the city that was designed to remind everyone present of the scale of what they were discussing.
Eight people around the table, six board members, Hartwell and Diane. Marcus was in the anti- room outside with a laptop and his full file available to be called in. He was called in at 9:47. Randall Fitch was not there in person. He had sent his attorney, a man named Gould, who wore a suit that said old money and carried a leather portfolio that said he'd done this before.
Gold had been speaking for 17 minutes before Marcus entered. Based on the expression on the three neutral board members faces, two of them had the look of people who'd heard an argument that was internally consistent but somehow didn't add up. And the third was writing something and not looking at Gould at all. Dian's ex-husband, whose name was Craig and who had the groomed effect of someone who'd spent 20 years in rooms like this being listened to, was seated two seats from the chair. He looked at Marcus when Marcus walked in with the expression of someone who'd been told exactly who to look at.
Marcus sat where Hartwell indicated at the end of the table opposite the chair. He put his laptop down and opened it. Mr. Web, the chair said a woman named Patricia, mid60s reading glasses on a chain. You've submitted documentation relating to a vendor conflict in the Cambria project. We'd like to ask you some questions.
Of course, Marcus said they asked good questions. The neutral directors had read Hartwell's materials. He could tell from the specificity. One of them, a man named Okafor who' built a regional contracting firm before moving to the board, asked Marcus to walk him through the Pacific Ridge disqualification criteria one by one. Marcus walked him through them.
Okafor asked follow-up questions about the Nevada licensing flag. Marcus answered them. Okafor nodded twice in a way that meant he recognized the kind of documentation that came from someone who'd done this work before. Craig spoke once during the bid criteria discussion. The contractor in question was disqualified on technical grounds that any experienced coordinator could have identified.
He said the question is whether those grounds were identified neutrally or sought specifically to achieve a predetermined outcome. Marcus looked at him. The insurance certificate gap was identified through standard renewal verification. Marcus said the Nevada licensing flag appeared in a third-party database query that's part of our normal vendor screening. The Sacramento failed project is public record.
The bid bond calculation was a math check. He kept his voice level. If the documentation of those four items looks like it was seeking a predetermined outcome, I'd be interested to know which item you're suggesting I fabricated. Craig's jaw tightened slightly. Gold cleared his throat.