“You’re not welcome here,” Mom texted. “Christmas is for successful children.”
I didn’t reply. Next morning, my fiancé’s company acquisition made national news.
Now my phone won’t stop ringing. The text arrived while I was helping James pick out his tie for tomorrow’s board meeting. Nothing special, just his standard under-the-radar Brooks Brothers in navy.
The man worth $4.2 billion dressed like a mid-level accountant, which was exactly how he wanted it. Mom, about Christmas dinner, we think it’s better if you skip this year. Christmas is for successful children.
Your sister just made partner at Goldman, and your brother’s new beach house is being featured in Architectural Digest. We don’t want them to feel uncomfortable with your situation. I showed James the message.
He paused in his tie selection, reading it twice. “Your situation?” he asked quietly. “You mean your job as chief strategy officer at my company?”
“No.” I smiled, straightening his collar.
“They think I’m still a secretary because that’s what I told them three years ago. They never asked for updates.”
The irony wasn’t lost on either of us. While my sister Diane posted weekly LinkedIn updates about her junior partner status, and my brother Mark shared daily Instagram stories about his real estate empire, I’d spent the last three years helping James build Bitecore Technologies into a $50 billion company.
Tomorrow, we’d announce our acquisition of Robertson Systems, a deal I’d orchestrated that would shake the tech industry. But my family didn’t know that. They just knew I’d met a nice IT guy at work.
Mom, we’re sure you understand. Maybe next year if things improve for you. James took my phone, read the new message, and his usual calm expression shifted slightly.
“We could tell them,” he suggested. “The deal goes public at 9:00 a.m. anyway.”
“No,” I said, selecting his cufflinks.
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