The Mayan Apocalypse by Mark Hitchcock Page B

learn to live with it. No psychiatrist is going to make it go away.”
    McNair put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Come on, chief, let’s go to the bar, and I’ll buy you a fruit smoothie. Something with bananas. You’re going to need the potassium.”
    â€œYou don’t care about my potassium level, do you? You just want to poke around in my private life some more.”
    â€œWhy, yes, I do. Thank you for the invitation.”
    â€œThat wasn’t…Oh, never mind.”
    The Rockpoint Fitness Gym refreshment bar was a health nut’s dream. Patrons could order everything from oatmeal to whole-wheat bagel sandwiches. McNair ordered two large fruit smoothies and then moved to a small, metal table in the corner of the room. The table was next to a window overlooking the parking lot, one floor down.
    â€œSomething in New Mexico get your goat?”
    Morgan gazed out the window. McNair was impossible to stonewall. “Not really. Sometimes things just pile up.”
    â€œThings?” the CFO asked. “Emotional things? After what you’ve been through, you’ve got every right to have some issues and nightmares.”
    â€œIt’s not that.” Morgan looked at his friend and saw the concern on his face. Most people offered their regrets, looked sad, and then did their best to avoid the topic of his family’s death. Not McNair. Of all the senior execs, McNair treated Morgan honestly, never shying away from the darkness Morgan sometimes brought to the office. “I’ve almost gotten used to the dreams. I imagine they’ll be part of my life forever.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    A gym employee brought the smoothies to the table. Rockpoint catered to the wealthy and offered services not normal to lesser gyms.
    â€œAnyway, I’m just off a little—that’s all.”
    â€œYou have no idea how much restraint I’m showing by resisting that setup line.”
    Morgan smiled. “I’m testing your mettle.”
    â€œI was born with lots of mettle.” He paused. “If this is none of my business, just say so. Why did you go to New Mexico?”
    â€œYou mean, if I told you to butt out, you would?”
    â€œOf course not. Now answer the question.”
    â€œFirst, is it you who’s asking, or someone else?” Morgan kept his eyes on McNair as he took a sip of thick drink.
    â€œI’m the one doing the asking, but I won’t lie to you. A few members of the board have stopped by to ask me questions.”
    â€œAbout me?”
    â€œYep. There is growing doubt about your fitness to run the company.”
    â€œThey know my family started the corporation.”
    McNair nodded. “Yes, they do, and you should know that when your father took it public, he surrendered certain rights to the board of directors.”
    Morgan did know that. The fact that he could be replaced was never far from his mind. The problem was, it didn’t bother him.
    â€œWhat did you tell them?”
    â€œIt wasn’t an official inquiry, just a couple of the members asking casual questions.”
    Morgan clinched his jaw. “Doesn’t sound casual.”
    â€œMy bad. I should have said informal. That’s a better word.”
    â€œOkay, what was your informal answer?”
    The corners of McNair’s mouth rose. “Let’s just say they won’t be asking me again. Know this, Andrew: I am now and always will be on your side.”
    â€œI know.” Morgan directed his eyes out the window and watched a UPS driver pull packages from his large brown van. “If I told you why I was in New Mexico, you might change your mind.”
    â€œI doubt it. I like my mind. Why would I change it?”
    â€œYou know what I mean.” Morgan inhaled deeply and turned his gaze back to McNair. “Do you know who Robert Quetzal is?”
    â€œThe 2012 nutcase? I’ve heard of him. Saw him on some interview show.