A man and woman followed him inside the boardroom. There was an air of formality about the attire and serious demeanor. The opulent room's occupants acknowledged his presence by getting to their feet to greet him. He looked about at the group of people in front of him before taking a seat and motioning for everyone to take a seat as well. Nobody was willing to talk. Without even opening a file, he signaled to a young guy that the presentation was about to start.

"The goal of our new store will be to sell shoes at a lower price so that our customers-," He was interrupted by a chilly comment.

"You mean to tell me you want to lower our profit margin!?" He thumbed through the file, rolling his eyes.

"Um sir, I'm not necessarily saying..."

"This company is built off of integrity and quality, my father did not build this company for it to simply be mediocre, if there is no better pitch by Tuesday at noon, you'll be fired," he said. The room immediately felt very cold.

The sad boy trailed off, "But... may I finish?" as his employer stood up and started to leave the room, not showing any emotion. His followers, who were afflicted with boredom, trailed behind him and accompanied him on his exit.

"How can he treat people in that manner? Who is this guy thinking he is? He sobbed out of frustration.

The red-haired woman said, "He's Andrew Baker, the CEO and president of these department stores, some of the top in the world you know... He owns this company."

He angrily remarked, "Yes, I know, it was a rhetorical question," grabbed his files, and raced out of the room.

***

Two men entered the building and he sat in his gleaming black office chair, staring at his timeline for the next month.

"Do they appear to be a threat? When did this business become large enough to potentially threaten our safety?" Andrew asked them sharp questions.

"We've tried to schedule a meeting with one of their representatives to create some sort of cooperation, but it has fallen through each time," one of the guys said, glancing at the other.

Andrew rose from his chair and moved to face the two men.

"So, are you telling me this whole time you have found this predicament entirely too unimportant to report to me, yet according to these charts, our sales have decreased by 20%?" The men weren't prepared for all of the questions to be posed at once, so they were taken off guard. The room darkened like a cloud of silence.

"Well, sir, that's not the root of the issue. Sir, your father loaned roughly ten million dollars while serving as the company's active CEO and president. He lent the money to Smith of the Smith Stores since he was close friends with them and a project had gone wrong. It was five million at first, but as time went on, they kept demanding more and more, and finally, your father died. However, it is that money that has been limiting our budget for growth and promotion." Andrew paused as the tale developed and asked himself, "How come I had never heard of this?"

"Smith has ten million dollars outstanding? And none of it has been repaid by them? My father was forgiving to others. Mr. Charles, please begin writing a concise summary of this case and send it to me right now. I'll need some time to consider my options before moving forward with this matter," he asked. Mr. Charles nodded curtly in response. Andrew was in his late twenties, while Mr. Charles was in his early forties. Despite this, Mr. Charles had developed a deep regard for his boss on several fronts. He was a moderately tall man. His dark hair had subtle grey flecks that complemented his eyes, and the lines around his eyes betrayed a lifetime of effort and worry. The men prepared for a new assignment together.

"Mr. Charles," he responded, "You've been working at this company for the last ten years, you probably know more about what happened with my father and Smith than anyone, I'd like you to give your input and ideas on how to handle this."

"Yes, sir, of course," Mr. Charles said courteously.

He was startled out of his work fog by a knock on the door.

"Come in." Andrew raised his voice. A young woman in her late twenties entered the room, her straight, chocolate-colored hair blowing behind her. She had a fair complexion and was wearing a sky-blue chiffon blouse with a professional black pencil skirt. She responded, "I apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but you have a function that you must attend this evening and you have to get going," holding a little planner.

He nodded in response, then said, "Okay, please get the driver and car in place," as she left the office. He headed home shortly after that to change into appropriate clothing for the situation.