by Sam Crescent
“It’s my company.” My father slams his hand on the desk and stands. The pinched look on his face used to make me cower, but not anymore.
“There won’t be a company if you keep this up.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him.
He blanches.
“You need help, Daddy. You’re going to lose everything. If word gets out, people won’t trust us to make business deals with us because you’re making bad decisions. Then what? And what about Mama? Does she know? What if Seth goes after the bookstore?”
“Your mother knows nothing.” He glowers and points a finger at me. “And you’ll keep it that way.”
“You need to talk to Eric. Maybe he can help with this situation.” Eric could be a cold and calculating businessman. I’ve seen him negotiate deals against the harshest individuals or argue his position until the other side bent to his will. He doesn’t intimidate easily.
“I will get with Eric in the morning.” His voice softens.
“He’s angry. Just so you know.”
“I expect as much.” He strolls around his desk to stand in front of me. “I’ll discuss this with Eric, and we’ll figure out the next step.” He wraps his arms around me and squeezes. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention and for not telling your mother.”
“I won’t tell Mama right now, but if things get out of control, you had better have a conversation with her.” I return his hug.
He releases me and pulls back. “So, what have you been doing the last couple of weeks while we were in England?”
Even though he tries to sound like he isn’t worried, the lines etched in his brow and the pinch of his lips tell a different story. He may not want me involved, but I will insert myself anyway. He’s clearly in more trouble than he wants to admit. It will mean working with Eric to get him out of the problem he created. Checking my libido at the door will be my biggest obstacle.
Chapter Three
Eric
I’m bent over my desk reviewing a new mixed-use proposal for downtown St. Petersburg. We’d found a few dilapidated and abandoned—but for a few homeless who we’ll get placed in shelters—buildings on the edge of the south side of the city near the university campus. My team has worked to create a proposal for purchasing the property, and we’re meeting this afternoon to discuss it before the proposal is presented. The plan is good. But that’s not surprising because so is my team.
Plus, the review process has kept my mind from stewing nonstop over the realization that John’s been selling property under my nose. And for dirt cheap. It’s been two days since I spoke to Celia about her father’s misdeeds. If I don’t hear from either of them by tomorrow, I’ll visit John, and the meeting wouldn’t be pleasant. It’s more than the sale of the property. It’s the underhandedness that bothers me. We’re supposed to be in this together. That sort of shit doesn’t make for a good partnership, nor does it bring the right people to want to do business with a company.
A knock sounds on my closed door before it eases open.
“Yes,” I bark, not lifting my head to greet the intruder.
“I understand we need to talk.” John’s voice is sharp, but the waver catches my attention. Despite his father-figure role in my life twenty years ago when he took me under his wing, we’re business partners now and the respect is mutual. Knowing that he has challenged the trust and respect between us should give him some pause.
I stand. “You understand correctly.” I wave him forward. I could move to sit next to him, but I don’t know what his rationale will be for his recent actions. Best to keep my desk separating us for now.
John sits. His charcoal-gray suit and white button-down shirt are pressed to perfection, but his light-blue tie lays askew. He rubs a hand down his face and crosses one leg over the other.
I sit and rest my elbows on the desk, steepling my fingers. “What the fuck sort of trouble are you in?” I blurt. I’m not known for beating around the bush and this circumstance warrants candor. I inhale, hoping I can handle this conversation without blowing up.
“I can explain.” He fidgets with his hands, wringing them then rubbing them on his pants, but no other words come.
“You bet your ass you’ll explain.” My chest tightens and my voice rises.
“I know you’re angry. And you should be.” He slides a hand through his thick gray hair, tousling the slicked-back strands in every direction.
“Damn right, I should be.” I slam a hand atop my desk. “You’ve sold property for pennies on the dollar and without going through the proper channels. Like you were trying to hide the transactions. Like this isn’t a business we’re running … together.”
“I lost a lot on a stock investment.”
“Investing is a gamble, John. That’s finance one-oh-one. But it’s not a reason to undermine your business partner or your company. We have a reputation in the community. We have employees who rely on us.” I flex my hands.
“I know.” He shakes his head. “But I tried to win the money back with some bets—you know, on some horse races and sporting events, but I ended up deeper in the hole.” He cringes.
“You’re kidding, right?” I fall back in my office chair and huff out a breath. Seeing John so vulnerable rattles me. He’s always seemed wise and in control, but his poor decisions have my blood racing like fire through my veins. “You tried to make up a failed investment by gambling on the ponies and sports.” Now it’s my turn to shake my head. I’ve always considered John one of the smartest men I knew. I heard rumors that he’d once been a wagerer. In fact, some of his investment money for the company had allegedly been from a big win on a Kentucky Derby race, but that had been long before even I arrived here. Never heard it was still a thriving vice.
John nods with his eyes downcast.
I lean forward again. “Is there anything else I need to be aware of in this sordid tale?”
He lifts his head. “I made the bets through Seth Malcolm and he wants the rest of his money yesterday.”
For fuck’s sake. I breathe meditatively. In. Out. In. Out.
Coming up in the foster system, I had opportunities to meet several unsavory individuals. Most foster parents don’t want to take in boys after a certain age, so I spent a good part of my teenage years in group housing. Between school and bedtime, we often took to the parks to shoot hoops, hang with friends, or get in trouble. Seth Malcolm’s goons visited the parks in search of stray teens looking to do some dirty work for cash. Some of the guys I knew in the group home walked that path. One or two may even still be on the payroll. Several returned to the group home beat to shit when they hadn’t completed their jobs right or got caught skimming a couple of bucks off the money they’d collected.
“How the hell did you get involved with Seth Malcolm?” My jaw tightens. John has always been a savvy businessman, but I’m questioning everything I know about him now. “Don’t you have a more legit means of betting? Calling something into Vegas? Or one of the more local casinos?”
“Seth was my bookie years ago when I’d won big. He’d never been a problem before.”
“How much do you owe?”
“It’s a lot. The investment that went bad put me out seven digits.” He blows out an exasperated breath. “Those two properties I sold to him for less than a quarter of their value made up some of the loss, but not enough.”
“Sold to him?” My vision blurs and my heart pounds.
I fumble with the documents on my desk, seeking the sale records that had triggered my initial investigation. I stare down at the real estate contract. Bold Ventures LLC. I’d never heard of this company but new organizations move into town on a regular basis. Florida is a hotspot for real estate and the population rises every day. Flipping through the agreement, I search for Seth’s signature. If I’d have caught his name, my alarm bells would have dinged even louder. But Seth didn’t sign on behalf of Bold Ventures LLC.
“I thought you were trying to unload property to pay Seth in ca
sh. I didn’t think you were selling property for next to nothing to a criminal. For fuck’s sake, John.” I wave the signature page at him.
This man has put my career and those of everyone else on this floor on the line, not to mention adding debt to the company’s financial position.
“I’m sorry.” He buries his head in his hands. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You didn’t know what else to do?” I slam the paper on my desk and turn my chair to look out the window at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. I can’t even look at him right now. My muscles twitch with the need to knock him into next week. Focus. I draw in a breath to the count of five and exhale to the same count. I repeat this several times, calming the bang of my heart and the rush of my blood. When I finally have control of my emotions, I swivel back around and look at John.
He’s a mess. I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his eyes or the slouched posture of defeat. This is the man who taught me more than I ever learned in college about business, who gave me an opportunity that opened my future. My chest tightens to see him this way. He’s been a father figure. A confidante. I don’t know this man in front of me.
“I haven’t told Maggie.” John stares down at his hands. “She practically skinned me alive years ago when I went on a gambling binge. If I hadn’t won that Kentucky Derby race and walked away, I’m positive she’d have left me.”
“She may skin you alive, John. I’m not sure you can keep something of this magnitude from her. She’s your wife.”
“If I have a plan to pay off the debt, I can talk her off the ledge of murdering me.” His voice softens.
I slide a piece of paper and pen across my desk. “Write down the exact total.” I’ve learned that people are more accountable for their actions when things are in writing. John could say a million dollars, but if he writes down a specific number, he can’t squirm his way out of that figure.
He glances up at me, eyes wide, but he reaches for the pen and paper. He scribbles out a number, folds the paper in half, and slides it back across the desk.
I pick it up and open the document. I swallow, then glare at him. I can’t get him out of this debt on my own. He may need to downsize his intracoastal house and sell off his Maserati collection. Seth is ruthless enough to come after Hawkins Holdings to recover this amount, so I need to protect the company.
“I will help you out of this situation, but you are going to have to do several things for me.”
“Whatever you need, Eric.”
“First, you will need to put your notice of retirement in.”
He jerks his head back as if I’d slapped him. “What? I’m not retiring yet. I still have a few years left in me.”
“From my perspective, these recent decisions say otherwise. I will call Legal and HR and they will work out the retirement package with you. Obviously, you will keep your stock options. You know you will be taken care of financially, but the company needs a clean break from you as CEO. If word leaks that you sold real estate cheaply to a criminal to get out of a personal debt, we’ll be in damage control mode for months or years.”
John stands tall, pulling his shoulders back and placing his hands on his hips. His eyes are wide and his mouth is twisted. “This is my fucking company.”
“It’s our company, John.” I stand as well. “You’ve played a risky game and lost. I’m willing to help clean up the mess, but there is a price.” I walk to the window and stare out at the waves lapping at the sailboats moored in the bay. “I will be promoted to CEO.” I look over my shoulder to catch his reaction.
He squats back into the chair and shakes his head. “I’ve built Hawkins Holdings for my daughter. The dream was to keep the company in the family.”
His words sting. After twenty years of proving myself, John still doesn’t think I’m “family enough” to run this company. Sure, we don’t share the same DNA. I don’t bear the Hawkins name. But I put my blood, sweat, and tears into helping to make Hawkins Holdings what it is today.
“Celia is good at what she does.” The truth is some day she might make a good CEO. She has the grit. But today isn’t that day. “But she doesn’t have the knowledge nor the experience to run a company yet. Surely, you didn’t think you’d remain CEO until she was ready.”
“You could coach her. Be her guidance on decisions.” His voice raises. “A Hawkins should be at the helm.”
“A Hawkins was at the helm and look where he got us.” My blood is heated as it pumps through my body. I glare at him. Not only did he put the company at risk with his poor decisions, but he’s insulted me. “I will be named CEO, John, or I will take my clients and open my own company. You and I both know I have more clout with the clients at this point than you do.”
His shoulders slump, and he puffs out a breath. “And what of Celia? You aren’t going to oust her, are you?”
What of Celia? That woman has been driving me mad for years now. She’s a thorn in my side, but she’s proven herself brilliant on the residential side and does bear the Hawkins name. Even more so, she revs my engine like no other woman ever could. I’ve wanted to claim her, and now appears to be the time.
“Celia and I will marry.” I almost can’t believe I’ve said those words. But I did. After all this time, I want my own family. The realization hits me like an anvil. And this with Celia.
“What?” John pushes to his feet again.
“Tomorrow, Celia and I will marry. And together we’ll run Hawkins Holdings, protecting it from your foolishness.”
“You’re crazy,” John says. “And besides, Celia will never go for this. She next to loathes you.”
“Is that what she tells you?” I chuckle. She doesn’t like me, that I know, but she does lust for me and I can work with that. “I’ll speak to Celia. She’s smart. This is her legacy. If she doesn’t agree to marry me, I will add my name to the company. Hawkins & Walker Holdings has a nice ring to it. She’ll want to do whatever she can to preserve the company and save you.”
John blanches. “She’s going to hate me, too.”
“It may take her some time to come to terms with things, but she will.” I walk back to my desk and pick up the phone, dialing my assistant’s extension.
“Mr. Walker, what can I do for you?” Janette asks.
“Please call William in Legal and have him come to my office immediately. Thank you.” I hang up the phone and look at John. “You may want to start thinking of ways you can enjoy your retirement, John, once this debacle is over.”
Chapter Four
Celia
I flip through some closing documents on my desk, signing at the spots marked by my assistant with sign here sticky tabs. My foot bounces. My father was supposed to talk with Eric this morning, and here it is after lunch and I’ve heard nothing. No yelling. No office-door-slamming. No confirmation that Eric will help him.
My nerves are shot. I’ve already picked all the nail polish off my thumbnail. The salad niçoise I ate for lunch tumbles in my belly like sneakers in a dryer.
Eric could very well lose his mind when he hears why my father is selling off investment properties. But without Eric’s help, my father will be in a heap of trouble. And not just financially. If he doesn’t pay Seth back, those goons may come after him.
My office door eases open and I look up. Eric walks in, his stride long and easy. He closes the door behind him, the click sounding with finality. He purses his lips, the only sign that perhaps he hasn’t had a good day. But his piercing blue eyes hold my gaze and my breath lodges.
“We’re getting married.” Eric blurts the words and my jaw drops.
“Excuse me?” Of all the things I would have expected him to say when he walked into my office, this wasn’t one of them.
“Your father is in a lot of trouble. His gambling debts are deep and could impact the company both financially and reputationally. I didn’t spend twenty years busting my ass to watch it all go up in flames because of his addiction. We wil
l retire your father and step forward as the leaders behind Hawkins & Walker Holdings.”
My mouth is still agape. I squeeze my eyes closed because only a dream could create this wacky conversation. When I open them, Eric is still standing on the other side of my desk with his hands in the pockets of his pants, looking unfazed. “Hawkins & Walker Holdings?”
“Your father and I have worked with Legal to add my name to the company if you refuse to marry me. I am being promoted to CEO, announcement to be made tomorrow along with our marriage or the change to the company name.” A soft smile perches on his lips like, despite my father’s dire situation, he’s content.
“We don’t need to get married to lead the company.” I blow out an exasperated breath. He’s insane.
“True. But it shows a united front. And I bargained for your hand.”
“Bargained for my hand? With who?” I shake my head and blink hard. I’d have been less disoriented or surprised if I’d been abducted by aliens.
“Your father.”
I cackle. “This isn’t the eighteenth century. Fathers don’t get to bargain with their daughter’s hand to save their livelihood.” I stand behind my desk and place my hands flat against the solid oak desktop. I want him to understand I stand firm on this position. “You’re out of your mind.”
He folds his arms across his chest, bicep muscles bulging under his light-blue shirt. He puffs his chest and stares at me with a look of defiance. I wish he wasn’t so nice to look at, that my heart didn’t pitter-patter whenever he was near, or that his spicy aftershave didn’t make me dizzy. I need to focus.
“It’s a win-win for you.”
I walk out from behind my desk so he doesn’t think I’m hiding behind the furniture. We’ve done this sort of power struggle before, and I’ve always faced him head-on. “I think you mean it’s a win-win for you, Mr. Walker. You become CEO of my father’s company and marry the woman you’ve been coveting, who just happens to be the owner’s daughter.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not marrying you,” I say with finality.
