By nine the next morning, I had called an emergency meeting in the middle of the executive boardroom floor.

I laid my leather planner flat on the oak table and waited for Frank Doyle to sit down.

Garrett came in three minutes late with his leather portfolio under one arm.

“I called this meeting to settle company authority on the bid paperwork,” I said, clearing my throat before I spoke.

“Frank, we have to lock down the primary sign-off rights before Friday.”

Frank tapped his wooden pen twice on his yellow notepad.