"As I said," Matthew went on, planting both of his hands on the
back of his vacant chair, "I cannot do my job as long as you have
the final say in everything. I am asking the board and the
executive staff to decide which of us will run this company. If
they choose you, I will resign."
He looked around the room. Everyone seemed to think their blank
notepads were fascinating.
"Matthew, now I'm getting angry," Peter said, rising from his
seat. Unconsciously he began popping the button of his ball-point
pen up and down with his thumb. "Can we please stop this
desperate little game?"
"This is no game. I am perfectly serious. And as this company's
president, I intend to conduct a vote."
The clicking stopped. "A vote? Then be my guest," he said,
sweeping a hand at the mannequins seated around the table. "Go
ahead, Matthew, ask. Ask everyone in this room who they want to
run my company."
Hands in his pockets, Peter began to pace slowly around the room,
like an impatient father awaiting the inevitable. "Wait," Peter
said. "Better still, Matthew, I'll ask, okay?"
Matthew shrugged deferentially.
Peter stepped behind Alan Parker, general manager of the Mate
division, the first executive Peter had hired when he had founded
Wallaby.
"Alan," Peter said, resting his hand on Parker's shoulder. "What
do you think about all of this? Pretty awkward, I agree.
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