Peter could not believe his ears, and before Matthew had even finished with his explanation Peter was already celebrating inside. Hallelujah! Here he had thought that Matthew was going to propose a reorganization, but instead he was resigning. It was priceless! Maybe, Peter thought, Matthew had realized himself that he was not cut out for high technology, and would be better off going back into the potato chip business, with its bright colored plastic bags, its brainwashing the public on the virtues of junk food, its pureeing of rotten ingredients -
" - provided," Matthew continued, "that they don't approve my recommendation that you relinquish your duties as Wallaby's vice president of Joey, and chairman of the board."
The room spun. Suddenly, all eyes were fixed on Peter. He blinked, and tried to focus on a single pair, but those glanced away, as did the next pair, and the next. He leaned back in his chair. It squeaked loudly. He looked up at the whiteness of the ceiling for a moment and let his mind drain. Suddenly he understood Matthew's little game. He laughed at the ceiling. For a split second he had actually thought it could somehow be true, that Matthew was going to resign, that that was what Matthew was trying to warn him of, threaten him with yesterday. Such was not the case. Resigning was the farthest thing from Matthew's mind. The absurdity - proposing that the board give him the boot. Admittedly, considering the rumors that were flying about a reorganization, he'd been more than a little apprehensive late last night. But upon waking this morning, he'd told himself there was nothing to fear. He was the company's founder, and he wasn't going anywhere - except where he damn well pleased. This was preposterous. It was laughable. And he laughed hard and full, his shoulders pitching a little. None of the others joined in the fun.
When he managed to get his laughter under control, he straightened up and placed his clasped hands comfortably in his lap. "Sorry," he said, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He gave himself a little shake, and blew out an exaggerated breath. "Forgive me for laughing, Matthew," he said with a smile, flattening his hand over his heart, "You had me going there for a second. I thought you were going to make my job easy."
His smile vanished. "But I guess you're not. So I'll spell it out for you." His face was relaxed and smooth, and he spoke coolly. "Matthew, you're not right for Wallaby anymore," he said. He let this hang in the air for a few moments. To his way of thinking, as chairman, his decision was already made. Out of courtesy he would explain to Matthew the circumstances, as a coach would after try-outs to the child who doesn't have what it takes to make the team.
"You did a good job of helping to get the organization in place for managing us through troubled waters. You created a strong sales force, and you did some other good things. I can't remember them all right now, but you did some okay things. However, were you to remain in your position any longer, this company would fail because of your weakness. You have no vision."
All this time Matthew had remained on his feet. Peter was impressed with how well he was taking it. Let's see, Peter thought, how he handles this part.
Peter opened his leather portfolio, which contained copies of the organizational chart he had prepared yesterday, listing himself as the acting president and CEO. "I think we can work out a respectable severance package, with full relocation, of course," he said, graciously, "and - "
"Peter, " Matthew said, cutting him off.
Oh wonderful, Peter thought, just what he had feared. Matthew was going to beg to stay. Yet he saw no sign of anguish on Matthew's face. Perhaps he was experiencing shock?