CHAPTER 4: SAY NO TO MEDIOCRITY

The next morning, Emma had given in to her father's demand, and to the hope that something good could come from this marriage. As the black limousine glided through the city, she sat stiff with her hands on her laps.

Just yesterday she thought she was going to an art school across the country. But this morning, she was being shipped off to meet the man who wanted to buy her future.

He had sent a limousine to pick them up.

Emma had not once glanced at her father who sat beside her. 

When the car stopped and the driver opened her door, the first thing that struck her was the central building. A tall glittering giant of glass that pierced high into the sky. Up high in gold letters was the label:

'L&V Group.'

Behind this building, the L&V Group headquarters stretched on, more equally aesthetic buildings all in the same style of architecture. But at the present moment Emma was just admiring the main building infront of her.

"Come on, young lady. Don't stand there gawking like that. You're embarrassing your old man," her father said.

The courtyard was packed with people and as Emma stepped across the concrete pavement, security guards, clients, journalists, all eyes turned toward her. This didn't bother her, however. She was used to stares, the way conversations stopped and heads turned whenever she walked past.

"Come, follow me dear," Mr. Galavan led the way.

At the main door, a mean-looking fellow stepped into their way.

"EXCUSE ME !" Mr. Galavan said rather impolitely, "We have an appointment with Mr. Rowland."

"Can I see some ID," the man said.

Mr. Galavan retrieved his ID and the man stared at it.

"Mr. Galavan, you'll have to wait out here."

"Great!" Emma sneered.

"What kind of embarrassment is this?" Mr. Galavan bellowed.

Before the guard could respond, a roar split the air. Engines, screams and a great commotion ensued.

Emma turned and her eyes transfixed on the scene. She had never seen that many expensive cars in one convoy.

A black Lamborghini Urus led a roaring convoy of slick cars into the countyard; Cadillac Escalade SUVs, limousines, and a white Rolls-Royce Phantom.

The courtyard bustled with excited cheers, phones rising to take pictures.

When the valet opened the limousine door, shiny black shoes flashed in the morning light as he stepped out. His navy blue suit was neatly hand tailored, his tie silk and his hair freshly cut. 

The moment he appeared, the crowd rippled. Reporters surged forward, firing questions nonstop:

"Mr. Rowland, is it true you acquired Mora Beauty?"

"Do you think it's ethical to buy out your competition?"

"Mr. Rowland, Congratulations on the acquisition. Can we get a comment?" a female reporter thrust a mic toward him. 

"Just business," he replied calmly, barely stopping.

Emma had never felt so small before in anyone's presence. The man exuded this 'larger-than-life' aura that made both Emma and her father stare silently like they had been enchanted by a witch.

The crowd pressed against barriers, excited voices cried out for autographs and cameras flashed endlessly. Bodyguards flanked him on the sides, hands stretched out to keep reporters back as his coat fluttered slightly while he walked. 

"Please sign my shirt, Mr. Rowland." A kid held out a blue T-shirt with an animated picture of the TV character, 'The Silver Wolf' on it.

When Rowland Montero stopped, a reporter pushed forward. "What do you have to say about 'Shining Beauty' lotion launched by Valerie Cosmetics recently?"

"No comment." 

And with that he walked toward the massive skyscraper in front of the lot.

"Mr. Rowland, will you ever make a comeback to TV?"

He walked away briskly. Assistants hurried behind him, phones and clipboards tightly clutched in their hands.

"Mr. Rowland," Mr. Galavan blurted and rushed forward. "We've been waiting outside..."

"Let them through, Oswald," Mr. Rowland said and stepped through the revolving glass door without talking to Emma and her father. He even barely looked at them. 

That left a bitter taste in Emma's mouth. She had expected better.

The doors closed behind them and suddenly the chaos outside mutted, as if a storm had passed.

Inside the large hall-like lobby, Emma couldn't help but let out a sigh. Being an artist, she always had an eye for beauty and style. The lobby had the most breathtaking interior design she had ever seen. Beautiful wall paintings and the light pouring in through the glass walls accentuated the aesthetic of the lobby. 

Everywhere he passed, people stopped in their tracks, "Good morning Mr. Rowland." 

Secretaries, janitors and company officials alike. People stood still and straightened when he passed them. All he did was nod slightly in acknowledgement, a large group of people at his side and following him.

Mr. Galavan also followed and Emma walked behind him, feeling invisible.

They approached a large glass-walled room with a 'Board 1' sign on the door. Emma could clearly see a dozen executives inside seated stiff around a long table. 

A woman intercepted Emma and her father. "You can't go in there."

"Mr. Rowland himself invited us here," Mr. Galavan protested. 

"Sorry sir, Mr.Rowland has a meeting. You'll have to wait out here with his assistants." She said.

"Let them join us." 

It was the unmistakable stone voice of Mr. Rowland. 

When he stepped into the boardroom, every executive rose to their feet. 

He was now flanked by only two men in sharp black suits.

One of the men pointed Emma and her father to a row of chairs along the back wall.

Emma studied Mr. Rowland carefully. Tall, with sharp jaws and eyes, his cold gaze swept through the room.

"Don't bother sitting. This won't take long." 

He took a few slow steps toward one of the executives with a tag labelled 'Head of Product Development' hanging from his neck. 

 Head of Product Development's Adam's apple moved up and down and A bead of sweat slid down his temple.

"Yesterday," Mr. Rowland began, "a rival company released a lotion with the same design and formula we developed."

He glanced at the morning papers on the table.

"One of you thought it clever to leak our design and pattern to our rivals. A product we spent millions perfecting was handed over, giftwrapped."

Although not in trouble herself, Emma couldn't help but feel the weight of his glare. Heads bowed and eyes avoided contact with his.

His eyes fell back on the one man who was in charge of the project and before he asked, the man began to stammer an excuse. 

"So, even Head of Product Development doesn't know the traitor." Mr. Rowland said. 

He nodded at the guards. 

The two men moved the moment he nodded, their coats swinging as they cornered the table towards Head of Product Development. Chairs scrapped on the floor as the man was escorted out still talking. He begged and pleaded but it was useless.

Emma swallowed. The fear in the room was palpable.

"Leave the company ID at the reception." Mr. Rowland said. "Whoever is in charge, I want his name out of the playroll by noon."

Emma was marvelled. The men in her life like her father had to shout for people to feel their power. But this man didn't have to. He spoke calmly and yet the room trembled.

Mr. Rowland slowly paced back to the front, his footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise grave-silent room. He stepped closer to the edge of the table and his fingers drummed it once, causing a couple of executives to flinch.

He turned to his next target. "Last quarter's sale."

Head of Sales straightened his neck tie, hands shaking. "Sir, we're still the market's leadi..."

"Yet our sales dropped by upto five percent."

Emma stood at the back of the room awestruck by the power this man commanded. A young face ordering grown men around, some old enough to be his parents. She hated how impressed she was with his calm demeanor.

"I can't blame that on you alone, though." Mr. Rowland eyed Head of Sales. "Find out what happened and give me a full report on what to do to improve sales. But if you can't deliver, I will find someone who can."

Head of Sales paled. He nodded frantically and scribbled notes like a mad man.

"Where's Gerald?" Mr. Rowland asked.

The young analyst was visibly shaken but still raised up his hand.

"You saw the drop long before it happened. I read your report, a little too late though. But Good work. Keep it up and you will climb higher than those you now answer to."

Gerald's tight face relaxed and he smiled from ear to ear.

"It's a shame your superiors ignored your warnings. Don't let small minds clip your ideas again. Next time send your work directly to me."

"Thank you, sir." The young man nodded.

'So he isn't cruel, just precise...and probably a perfectionist,' Emma thought.

"Lastly, we just acquired Mora Beauty."

Everyone clapped.

"And at the back, is Mr. Galavan from Glamour Cosmetics. We are finalizing a merger with his company too, so I asked him to be here with us today, as we are going to be working together."

Everyone clapped again.

"Yes, we want total dominance. We are not here to compete, we want to end the competition."

Several heads nodded in approval.

"Everyone get back to work. And as always," he paused, "Say no to mediocrity."

No one dared to move until he disappeared into the corridor. The moment he was safely out the room, everyone unfroze. A chatter broke out at once. Many collapsed to their chairs and some gentlemen loosened their neckties and leaned back exhaling loudly. 

"Is he going to keep ignoring us like this," Emma said in frustration.

"Be careful not to bring this attitude when we meet Mr. Rowland, young lady." Her father warned. "This is the man who is going to save us all."

The same lady who had tried to stop them from entering the boardroom walked over to them and said, "Mr. Rowland will see you now."