Chapter 6 - The Encounter
Arthur Peterson didn't notice Wade's sudden paralysis. The moment Arthur spotted Robert entering the room, he practically pushed past Wade and Fallon, walking briskly toward us with an expression of profound deference.
"Dr. Vance!" Arthur exclaimed, bowing his head slightly as he reached us. "Sir! What an absolute honor to have you grace us tonight. We are profoundly grateful for your presence."
Robert stopped, adjusting his cuffs calmly. "Good evening, Arthur. You've put together a fine evening."
"Thank you, sir!" Arthur said eagerly. Then he turned to me, bowing his head again. "And you must be Mrs. Vance. It is a true privilege, ma'am. Dr. Vance spoke of you with such immense respect when he confirmed his attendance."
"Thank you, Mr. Peterson," I said, my voice clear, steady, and rich with quiet confidence. "It is a pleasure to be here."
Ten feet away, Wade stood frozen to the carpet. His eyes were wide with a horrifying combination of confusion, shock, and mounting terror. Fallon was clutching his arm so hard her knuckles were white, her eyes darting between my sapphire dress and the deferential way Arthur Peterson was bowing to my husband.
"Wade..." Fallon hissed in a panicked whisper. "Wade, what is happening?! Why is your mother dressed like that? Why is Mr. Peterson talking to Robert like he's the president of the country?!"
Wade couldn't speak. His throat was completely dry.
Robert turned his head slightly, his sharp blue eyes scanning the perimeter of the room until they landed directly on Wade and Fallon.
"Ah, Arthur," Robert said softly, his voice carrying clearly across the quiet circle of onlookers. "I see you were speaking with some of your local management team."
Arthur turned around, looking back at Wade. "Oh! Yes, Dr. Vance. That is Wade Miller, one of our regional account managers. He was just discussing his interest in the Senior Vice President position."
"Is that so?" Robert said, taking my hand in his and resting it elegantly over his arm. "Walk with me, Arthur. Let us greet Mr. Miller."
As Robert and I walked slowly across the polished floor toward them, every eye in the ballroom followed us. Wade looked as though he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His knees were visibly trembling.
When we reached them, Robert stood tall, looking down at my son with cool, unreadable eyes.
"Good evening, Mr. Miller," Robert said, his tone entirely professional, devoid of any familial warmth. "And Mrs. Miller."
Fallon opened her mouth, but only a squeak came out.
"R-Robert... Mom..." Wade stammered, sweat breaking out across his forehead. "What... what are you doing here? How do you know Mr. Peterson?"
Arthur Peterson looked at Wade with sudden, sharp confusion. "Mr. Miller! What kind of tone is that?! You are speaking to Dr. Robert Vance—the founder of Vanguard Medical Systems, the holder of our core patents, and the Chairman Emeritus of our parent board!"
Wade gasped aloud. He stumbled back half a step, staring at Robert as if seeing a ghost.
"Founder...?" Wade repeated, his voice cracking. "Chairman...?"
"Dr. Vance built the foundation of every product you sell, Miller," Arthur said sternly, his eyes narrowing at Wade's bizarre behavior. "And this is his wife, Mrs. Edna Vance."
Robert looked at Arthur, then turned his gaze back to Wade.
"Mr. Miller was just telling me before you walked in, Dr. Vance," Arthur added, trying to smooth things over, "how much he values our company's standard of 'high-caliber representation' and family excellence."
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A cool, sharp smile touched Robert's lips.
"High-caliber representation," Robert repeated quietly. He looked directly into Wade's pale, terrified face. "Tell me, Mr. Miller... does your definition of high-caliber representation include forcing your sixty-one-year-old mother to clean your toilets on her knees before throwing her out into the cold so she doesn't embarrass you in front of your boss?"
