Chapter 3 - The Waiting Game
The Harrington vehicle pulled up to the towering glass structure of Whitmore Global.
Margaret stepped out, looking up at the skyscraper with a greedy gleam in her eye.
"This is true power, Ethan," she told her son.
"And today, we take our rightful place beside it."
They walked into the massive marble lobby, acting as if they owned the building.
Margaret approached the front desk with a haughty expression.
"Margaret Harrington, Ethan Harrington, and Brooke Sterling," she announced to the receptionist.
"We are here for our ten o'clock meeting with the investment committee and the CEO."
The receptionist checked her computer and gave a polite, practiced smile.
"Of course, Mrs. Harrington."
"Please take the private elevator to the top floor."
"The CEO is expecting you."
Brooke linked her arm through Ethan's, practically beaming with pride.
"See?" Brooke whispered.
"They are rolling out the red carpet for us."
They rode the glass elevator up eighty floors, watching the city shrink beneath them.
When the doors opened, they stepped into a stunning reception area.
However, instead of being ushered into the boardroom immediately, Daniel Mercer approached them.
"Mr. Harrington, Mrs. Harrington," Daniel said formally.
"The CEO has asked that you wait in the lounge for a few moments."
Margaret frowned, clearly offended.
"Wait?" she demanded.
"We had a scheduled appointment for ten o'clock."
"It is currently ten-oh-one."
Daniel did not blink.
"The CEO's schedule is highly demanding, ma'am."
"Please, have a seat."
He turned and walked away before Margaret could argue further.
For forty-five agonizing minutes, they sat in the waiting area.
Margaret's foot tapped impatiently against the floor.
Brooke kept checking her reflection in her compact mirror, her anxiety growing.
Ethan simply stared at his phone, hoping to see a message from Claire.
There was nothing.
Finally, at ten-fifty, massive double oak doors slowly swung open.
Daniel Mercer reappeared.
"The CEO will see you now," he announced.
Margaret stood up abruptly, smoothing her skirt.
"It is about time," she muttered under her breath.
They walked into the sprawling boardroom, their shoes clicking against the hardwood floor.
At the far end of the room, a large leather chair was turned away from them, facing the window.
"Good morning," Margaret projected her voice, putting on her most charming, fake tone.
"I am Margaret Harrington, and this is my son, Ethan, the President of Harrington Development."
The chair remained still.
"We are thrilled to finally meet the brilliant mind behind Whitmore Global," Brooke added, trying to sound important.
May you like
The room was deathly quiet.
Slowly, the leather chair began to swivel around.
