He always returned as soon as possible, even if it meant arriving in the middle of the night. When he did, as he eased into the bed, she would awaken and roll over toward him.
“You’re home,” she’d whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m home,” he’d whisper back and pull her into his arms.
As the CFO droned on about the increased market share and showed graphs of the revenue HLC anticipated earning in the coming years, Derrick smiled to himself. He and Eva refrained from discussing the past, but that didn’t stop them from arguing like an old married couple. For example, during their conversation at dinner a few nights ago, he broached the subject of hiring a nanny again. She’d insisted they didn’t need one. An argument ensued from there.
Then there was the time when he climbed into bed and had the displeasure of rolling in crumbs. He’d told her for the umpteenth time not to eat in bed, and she’d yelled back she couldn’t help it and was eating for two. Right afterward, she burst into tears, and he, feeling like a heel, had ended up apologizing.
Somehow all their arguments ended with him apologizing.
He chuckled, and eleven heads turned in his direction.
“Was there something you wanted to add, Derrick?” His CFO looked curiously at him from the other end of the table. A multicolored pie chart showed on the screen behind him.
Derrick had reviewed it all before he allowed the data to be presented to the entire team, so he had no concerns. “No, ah . . . you’ve been doing a good job. Continue.”
The CFO smiled and turned back to the screen. Using a laser wand, he drew a circle around a slice of the chart. “So, based on our projections, in five years we expect market share to—”
“You know what?” Derrick interrupted. “It’s late. Why don’t you all go home? You’ve been working hard, and I think this could wait until the morning, don’t you?”
They all looked around at each other, but no one had the courage to agree with him, as if they thought it was a setup.
Derrick stood, signaling the legitimacy of his comment. “How about we reconvene tomorrow at noon? We’ll order in some food and make it a working lunch. Any objections?” He didn’t expect any, nor did he plan to entertain any. “All right, then. Review the files carefully and come prepared to discuss and offer suggestions. Good night.”
The executives had stunned expressions on their faces as he left the room. It didn’t matter to him. As the boss, he could do whatever the hell he wanted, and right now he wanted to get home to see his wife.
On the way out, he stopped by his suite of offices to get his briefcase. Once he retrieved it, he exited to find his administrative assistant had returned to her post and was making copies.
She looked up and smiled. “Good night, Mr. Hoffman.”
“Good night.” Derrick’s steps slowed. “How late are you scheduled to work every day?”
She looked confused. “I . . . I work as long as you need me to, sir.”
He smiled. “But how late are you scheduled to work?”
“Until six.”
Last he checked, it was almost nine o’clock. “I tell you what, why don’t you go home? And from now on, leave at six. I’ll let you know if I need you to work late.”
Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she finally got any words out. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Mr. Hoffman.”
“One more thing. From now on, call me Derrick. Mr. Hoffman was my father.”
With a smile of pure pleasure, she said, “Yes, sir. I mean Derrick.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
****