Page 104 of True Colors

“I decided that her disability was a risk,” I continue, because the truth needs to be told. I have to tell my father how badly I failed—not just him, but myself, and everything my parents have taught me for a lifetime. I let my tunnel vision to succeed become so important that I⁠—

“So, if, say, someone on your team uses a wheelchair, you’d what? Tell them they can’t go to a meeting if there are stairs?”

My lungs cinch up, sharp and mean at the comparison.

“You’re right. I’d never have done that, but I did in this case. I was so determined to be perfect for this presentation that I pushed out the person who—she did an amazing job, Dad, and I destroyed everything. I disrespected her work by having someone who didn’t prepare present it. I disrespected her and….” I drop my face into my hands.

“Luther.”

I hear Dad’s chair scrape and feel his hand on my shoulder.

I’m close to tears.

I look up at him.

He gasps softly. He’s never seen me broken open like this. I’ve lived a privileged life—one cushioned enough that I’ve never had to fall apart before.

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on, otherwise your mother is going to hang me by the balls.”

I swallow.

“I’m in love with her.”

He scowls. “With whom?”

“Anouk.”

His eyes widen with confusion. “The data analyst?”

I nod.

“You want to hear the worst part?”

Dad raises both eyebrows. “There’s something worse?”

I let out a harsh laugh. “Right now, I’m more worried about how I failed her and how she’s never going to forgive me than the fact that you and Martin think I’m a shit CEO.”

“Well,” he says after a beat, “at least your priorities aren’t completely screwed.”

I huff out a humorless laugh.

“Listen to me, son.” He rests both hands on my shoulders. “You didn’t fail because you weren’t smart enough. You failed because you didn’t trust your people—and you let fear drive your decisions.”

My head moves in a slow, solemn nod.

“Leadership isn’t about eliminating risk.” He straightens and looks at me with affection. “It’s about standing behind your people when the risk shows up.”

I glance at him, a flush of guilt creeping up my neck.

“You want to know what separates executives from leaders?” he asks.

“Tell me.”

“Leaders don’t borrow courage from people who look polished.” He walks back to the client chair. “They amplify the ones doing the actual work.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Dad, I’m not ready to take over anything.”

He leans back in his chair and studies me for a moment, calm and unruffled. “No, you’re not, and no one expects you to right now, either,” he says easily. “That’s why you’re running a small company. You’re learning.”