Free Miss Match by Lindzee Armstrong, Lydia Winters Page B

missus is tickled pink.”
    Luke rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. He took a seat next to Mitch at the end of the table—closest to the door.
    “Luke, nice of you to join us,” Walter said.
    Luke almost grunted, then remember his resolve. “Feels good to be here, Walter.”
    “Can I get you some coffee, Mr. Ryder? Or maybe some tea?” A girl in a smart business suit gave Luke a timid smile. An intern, maybe? She couldn’t be more than eighteen. He used to know everyone in this place by sight, if not by name. Had so much really changed in two months?
    “Coffee is fine. Black.”
    The girl nodded and turned to Mitch for his order.
    “It’s good to see you.” Emma, in the chair next to Luke’s, patted his arm. “We’ve missed you around the office.”
    “Nice to see you, too,” Luke lied.
    A large hand fell on his shoulder. Luke looked up into the solemn eyes of Darius.
    “Lucas,” Darius said. “So glad you could join us. I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
    “Why wouldn’t I be here?” Luke asked.
    “I thought maybe you were neglecting your email again. Since everyone is here, we’ll start.”
    Luke glowered. Darius may be the chairman of the board, but Luke was CEO. He should call the meeting to order. He should call the meeting, period.
    “Your coffee, Mr. Ryder.”
    Luke took the cup from the intern with a mumbled, “Thanks.”
    Darius sat at the head of the table. “I think we’re ready to start,” he said. Fifteen pairs of eyes shot toward Luke. “Where’s Andrea? Someone needs to take minutes.”
    “Here,” said a small voice. A woman scurried over to sit at the back of the room, behind Darius.
    “Good,” Darius said. He sank into his chair, then placed his arms on top of the mahogany table and steepled his fingers. “Luke, we’re here to discuss the future of Ryder Communications. I’ll come right out and say it—we’re not sure you’re the CEO for the job. We were uncertain from the moment your father suggested the idea, and your behavior since his death has confirmed our worst fears. We think it might be time to reevaluate your position with the company.”
    Luke’s heart thudded. He hadn’t disbelieved Mitch, but he hadn’t expected Darius to be so blunt, either. “I didn’t realize things were this bad.” He knew he’d been acting mainly as a figurehead the last two months, and the board had been the ones running things. But he was still working through his grief.
    Harold snorted. “You’re in the tabloids constantly. You’re drunk more than you’re sober. You’ve got a new woman every night. The investors are concerned about the stability of the company. We need a capable, strong CEO to reassure stockholders that even though our founder is gone, the company is still thriving.”
    “You could at least have the decency to fake a stable relationship for appearance’s sake,” Silvia piped in. “The gala was a disaster. I don’t care who Nathan Kendall is sleeping with, that was over the line.” She let out a harrumph. “It made it look like our CEO cared more about his latest booty call than keeping the company afloat. I’ve received half a dozen calls this morning from concerned shareholders, and four times that many emails, not to mention all the calls I got over the weekend.”
    “This isn’t you,” Emma said. “We need the Luke who had an MBA by twenty-two and practically lived at the office. And frankly, we haven’t seen any evidence he still exists the last two months.”
    A general murmur of agreement circulated around the room.
    Luke took a deep, calming breath. You can rage in the privacy of your own house later. For now, be the CEO. He struggled to slip into the persona that used to come so naturally. “I’ll admit the gala wasn’t my finest moment. But that wasn’t about Candi—it was about Talia. Kendall said their new product will destroy us.”
    “It very well might,” Darius said. “Talia is a disaster. You have to stop