The next day, the company was abuzz with explosive news: the CEO's spouse, William, accompanied the CEO to work.
Brian's hand was hurting, so William, the dutiful spouse, took on the role of a personal assistant, helping him dress, tie his tie, handle utensils, drive him to the office, and even took on secretarial duties.
William, who went from college to military school and then worked in various places, had never been involved in the company's affairs. He was happy to stay away from the company for a lifetime, but for his spouse, he was willing to be a personal secretary for the day.
The CEO's spouse can't just spend money; he has to help the CEO with his burdens.
Everyone knew that CEO Liu was married into the Wang family, but they were unfamiliar with William, the spouse. If it weren't for that time when he kicked open CEO Liu's door and the secretary found out he was the CEO's spouse, no one would know who William was.
Dressed in a suit, William felt constricted. It wasn't as comfortable as wearing camouflage. Even though military uniforms were also snug, they weren't this stifling.
William held Brian's laptop and documents close to his chest, following closely behind him like a personal secretary.
Brian entered the office building with a calm expression, walking briskly and full of energy. Everyone who passed by greeted him with "Good morning, CEO Liu." He would nod in response.
When they reached his office area, the secretary and a few others were waiting. As soon as they saw him, they hurried over with reports and updates.
The secretary, tablet in hand, rattled off the day's agenda to Brian: meetings, appointments, calls, and errands that needed his personal touch. The day was packed to the gills.
Folders in red, blue, and yellow were neatly arranged on the desk, each color a code for urgency. Brian, after absorbing the cacophony of updates from his team, started dishing out orders like a general. "Cancel this meeting, no need to see that guy, call this one instead," he commanded, prepping for the morning huddle.
He snatched the red folder from the top of the pile, gave it a once-over, and flung it at a portly middle-aged man. "Fire the nincompoop who made this chart. Can't make a decent financial report? What good is he?"
The first conference room was buzzing. The moment Brian waltzed in, it was go-time. He was all business, eyes glued to the documents, ears tuned to the rapid-fire updates from his team.
In a whirlwind thirty minutes, it was over. Everyone scattered like leaves in the wind.
Brian's secretary, arms laden with documents, scurried back to the office. Brian dictated, the secretary scribbled. Once the verbal torrent ceased, the secretary, with a nod, was off to make it happen.
The office was a beehive. Everyone hustled, words were currency – no chit-chat, just the essentials. It was like a well-oiled machine, swift and decisive.
Meanwhile, William was like a lost puppy trailing behind Brian, clueless about how to lend a hand. He thought about taking notes, but the secretary had that covered. He considered helping with the computer, but Brian was a whiz with his left hand. The corporate lingo was like a foreign language to him.
Brian settled behind his desk, eyeing the stack of red files.
"Sign these," he barked.
William, who had been pondering whether to make tea or fiddle with his phone, sprang into action.
"Under whose name?" he inquired.
"Doesn't matter. Yours or mine. You're the legal rep."
"Nobody knows me from Adam. Let's go with your name."
Brian's right hand was out of commission, so he watched as William took the reins and signed.
"What's with the color-coding?" William queried.
"Red is hot, blue is cool, and yellow needs attention today. Get your nose into the blue ones. Soak it up. This empire will be yours someday. I'm just keeping the seat warm."
"Maybe I should just make tea."
"You're practically royalty here, the CEO's other half. We've got peons for tea. Dive into those files, and let's hear your two cents."
"I'm out of my depth here."
"Sink or swim, buddy."
Brian fixed his gaze on William.
"Look, you've been in your line of work for a decade. Spies retire young. You can't be gallivanting around on missions forever. I'm calling the shots now, but when you hit the big 4-0, you'll be sitting in this chair, and I'll be sipping margaritas on a beach."
"I was looking forward to a quiet life, not haggling over deals. You expect me to dive into business in my golden years? I'll be broke before you know it."
"Everyone's a greenhorn at first. Grandpa gave me a crash course for a few months, and then I was flying solo. You've got a decade to get your sea legs. You'll get the hang of it."
"Can't you just let me coast through? After forty, I just want to kick back with my pension and not have a care in the world."
"I've got a mountain of red and yellow files that need my attention today, plus two meetings, a site visit, and three clients to schmooze. It's a jam-packed day. The blue files? Those are homework."
Brian shot a glance at the stack of blue folders.
"Guess I'm burning the midnight oil tonight."
"Pulling an all-nighter? Don't you care about your health?"
William was not on board. Burning the candle at both ends wasn't exactly a recipe for wellness.
Brian just stared him down. William, with a dramatic pout, reluctantly grabbed a blue folder and plopped down on the sofa to flip through it. He'd read, throw in his two cents, and wait for Brian's thumbs up or down.
A smirk played at the corners of Brian's mouth.