“Tomorrow morning I expect to see your resignation letters on my desk. If you can’t manage the behavior of your own households, you’re not ready to lead people in my company.”
“Please, Ma’am! Have mercy!” they begged.
But I walked out of the restaurant without answering.
Outside, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up.
My driver opened the door for me.
Inside the restaurant I could already hear the couples arguing loudly.
“This is your fault, Amanda! You never stop talking!” Michael shouted.
I almost smiled.
The orange juice earlier had tasted good.
But that reunion had been even sweeter.
I was about to get into the car when something made me pause.
For a moment I didn’t see arrogant adults behind me.
I saw teenagers again.
Classrooms.
Old dreams.
Versions of ourselves who once believed we could become anything.
I took a slow breath.
“Wait,” I said calmly.
The three men rushed outside again, panic written all over their faces.
“Ma’am, please… we have families…”
I studied them carefully.
Leadership wasn’t about revenge.
It was about responsibility.
“I will not accept your resignations,” I said.
They looked stunned.