"Mr. McGinnis?" I look up. 24 executives and Paxton Powers are all staring
at me.
I used to get woken up at school. Now I get woken up at work.
"Yes?" Powers glares at me from across the table.
"We would appreciate it if you could pay attention during our meetings, sir."
"Maybe I would if our meetings brought me anything good. All I've heard for weeks is claims and objections and petitions against you, Mr. Powers." Powers glares at me but says nothing else. Just another one of our daily skirmishes in the war that'll never end as long as I have 49% of this company.
I'm the CEO. I should be allowed to daydream during meetings.
Wayne Powers Industries- the second most important thing Wayne left to me. I'm 29 now. Old enough to get some respect, but young enough to bring innovation to the company, which is probably why they haven't tried to seize control of my holdings. Powers is 5 years older than me, but they've seen his track record and they don't trust him as much as they do Bruce Wayne's heir.
The college degree I got after four years of doing papers on rooftops in between fighting crime probably helps too.
"I want to call your attention to the March profits, gentlemen." Powers says, waiting as each old man turns the pages in his profit report.
"If you'll care to observe, our stock market value decreased right along with our profits when the Venezuelan purchase was made."
"If you'll also care to observe," Powers adds, leaning the other end of the table, his smug face only on me, "The signature on that purchase was none other than Mr. McGinnis'." 24 old faces turn to me.
Wayne's brand of life insurance- the money, the company- was a little different than most. It had one catch; the recipient would spend his entire life fighting to keep it.
I sigh and stand up, leaning against my own side of the table in the position that I'm usually in with Powers- the defense.
"You lose a little to gain a little, gentlemen. Besides, I had to do what I could for the company after the aerospace catastrophe back in February. Which, as you might remember, Mr. Powers, YOU authorized." The old men are pretty easily swayed between Powers and me, both of us being reasonably intelligent and quick thinkers.
But Powers learned from his father. I learned from Bruce Wayne. I have the better odds.
The meeting ends and the executives file out. Powers stays for a moment, glaring at me.
I consider sticking my tongue out at him, but think better of it.
Don't be juvenile McGinnis. The funny thing was, Mr. Wayne used to say that to me while I WAS a juvenile.
I've got things to do anyways. It's my turn to pick up Ben.
My son.
I used to get woken up at school. Now I get woken up at work.
"Yes?" Powers glares at me from across the table.
"We would appreciate it if you could pay attention during our meetings, sir."
"Maybe I would if our meetings brought me anything good. All I've heard for weeks is claims and objections and petitions against you, Mr. Powers." Powers glares at me but says nothing else. Just another one of our daily skirmishes in the war that'll never end as long as I have 49% of this company.
I'm the CEO. I should be allowed to daydream during meetings.
Wayne Powers Industries- the second most important thing Wayne left to me. I'm 29 now. Old enough to get some respect, but young enough to bring innovation to the company, which is probably why they haven't tried to seize control of my holdings. Powers is 5 years older than me, but they've seen his track record and they don't trust him as much as they do Bruce Wayne's heir.
The college degree I got after four years of doing papers on rooftops in between fighting crime probably helps too.
"I want to call your attention to the March profits, gentlemen." Powers says, waiting as each old man turns the pages in his profit report.
"If you'll care to observe, our stock market value decreased right along with our profits when the Venezuelan purchase was made."
"If you'll also care to observe," Powers adds, leaning the other end of the table, his smug face only on me, "The signature on that purchase was none other than Mr. McGinnis'." 24 old faces turn to me.
Wayne's brand of life insurance- the money, the company- was a little different than most. It had one catch; the recipient would spend his entire life fighting to keep it.
I sigh and stand up, leaning against my own side of the table in the position that I'm usually in with Powers- the defense.
"You lose a little to gain a little, gentlemen. Besides, I had to do what I could for the company after the aerospace catastrophe back in February. Which, as you might remember, Mr. Powers, YOU authorized." The old men are pretty easily swayed between Powers and me, both of us being reasonably intelligent and quick thinkers.
But Powers learned from his father. I learned from Bruce Wayne. I have the better odds.
The meeting ends and the executives file out. Powers stays for a moment, glaring at me.
I consider sticking my tongue out at him, but think better of it.
Don't be juvenile McGinnis. The funny thing was, Mr. Wayne used to say that to me while I WAS a juvenile.
I've got things to do anyways. It's my turn to pick up Ben.
My son.