OLIVIA
I was woken up by the thrill of my phone.
I flailed out an arm from under the sheets and grabbed my phone, squinting at the screen. Timothy Spencer. My father's oldest board member. Practically his right-hand man.
I blinked at the time—7:24 AM.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand before answering.
"Hello?"
"Olivia," Timothy's gravelly voice came through the line.
"Good morning, I hope I did not wake you."
"No, you did not," I mumbled. "What is wrong?"
"There is a board meeting scheduled this morning. It is important and we would like you to come in."
"A board meeting? I…Timothy, I can't. I'm dealing with my father's legal mess. There is so much going on, I don't even…"
"I understand," he cut in gently, "but this is something we need to do. We wouldn't call you if it wasn't necessary."
I opened my mouth to argue but… stopped.
"Alright," I said, exhaling. "I will be there."
"Good," he replied. "We will see you soon."
He hung up.
