Chapter 7 - MY FIRST BAD ORDER
The day after the hospital, I told Dad:
"Cut them off."
He asked:
"Who?"
"All Reeves companies."
He stopped.
"From what?"
"Everything."
My father has many flaws.
One useful trait:
When anger belongs to someone else, he occasionally becomes rational.
"Camille."
"They used you."
"Preston and Dorinda may have."
"The company benefited."
"Some payments did."
"Then freeze every contract."
Dad’s holding companies had three legitimate contracts with Reeves Design & Build.
One hotel lobby renovation.
One private office.
One historic property.
Hundreds of workers downstream.
I said:
"Cancel them."
Dad stared.
Then:
"No."
That surprised me.
"You threatened men over less."
"Yes."
"Then?"
"Your husband doesn’t get to turn his employees into hostages either."
I hated the metaphor.
He was right.
Dad’s general counsel reviewed the contracts.
Payments for properly completed work continued.
No new discretionary awards to Reeves entities pending conflict review.
The questioned pregnancy reimbursements stopped immediately.
The $300,000 reserve did not go out.
Targeted.
Not annihilation.
I apologized to Dad later for demanding broader retaliation.
He smiled.
May you like
"I enjoyed being the reasonable one."
"Don't get used to it."
