Her third was about Whitmore.
She said I was sabotaging a transition the family had already accepted.
By the fourth, she was crying.
Not once did she mention my face.
At eight, my attorney arrived with coffee and a pair of temporary reading glasses from a pharmacy because he had remembered mine were broken.
The kindness nearly undid me.
At nine, company counsel called. The board would meet Sunday afternoon because Valerie had apparently already sent several senior employees a draft announcement naming herself incoming CEO effective Monday.
I had not known that.
For one terrible second, I felt the old reflex: protect her from embarrassment. Cancel the emergency meeting. Handle it privately. Tell everyone there had been a family misunderstanding.
Then I touched the swelling on my cheek.
“No,” I said. “Meet.”
The board meeting was not dramatic.
That disappointed Valerie, I think.
She arrived in a navy suit with Richard beside her and an attorney of her own. I wore no makeup over the bruise.
The board chair began by asking whether any vote had appointed Valerie CEO.
No.
Whether I had resigned.
No.
Whether the voting trust had authorized a transfer of control.
No.
Then counsel displayed the draft announcement Valerie had circulated.
Her attorney leaned toward her.
Valerie tried to explain that the announcement was preliminary and that everyone knew a transition was coming.
One director asked who “everyone” meant.
She had no answer that included the board.
I spoke only once before the vote.
“My granddaughter is talented. She is not CEO of Whitmore Publishing because she announced it at my birthday party.”
The board formally rejected the unauthorized transition and removed Valerie from the succession committee she had been participating in as a family representative. Her consulting access to certain executive planning materials was suspended pending review.
She stared at me across the table.
“You’re doing this because I slapped you.”
