Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
I don’t blink despite the fact that he jolts me with his knowledge of my personal business that he shouldn’t know, but he’s right. I did write a check to my father. I was all in, even when my gut said to pull back.
“Knowing this,” he adds, “makes your move Friday night all the more gutsy. You were walking away from a paycheck.”
“I’d already heard I was one foot out the door.”
“The only two people that can walk you out of the door are me and you. Can or can’t,” he repeats.
My lips tighten, and I lean in to reach for a pen on the desk and suddenly his hand is on mine, the spark of electricity up my arm rocketing my eyes to his. “Can or can’t?” he demands softly, his eyes somehow hot and cold at the same time.
“Can,” I bite out.
“What changed your mind?”
“You.”
“Explain.”
“I have let this become emotional, which is always a mistake,” I admit, the truth of those words cutting like so many things right now. “I let myself believe that meant you had as well, but that’s not you. This is about money to you, not me and a pair of handcuffs.”
He studies me a few beats, and then releases me, sliding the folder closer to me. I sign the document. “Now what?”
“Sit.”
“I don’t want to sit.”
“Sit, Carrie,” he orders and while his voice is soft, it’s absolute.
“Carrie?” I challenge. “Not Samantha?”
“I’ll save Samantha for when we’re alone.”
“I’ll save asshole for you when we’re alone.”
“I can live with that,” he says. “Sit.”
I sit and he gets right to the point. “Tomorrow morning, the board will name me the new acting CEO. I don’t want or need this job, but it’s mine for now. I’ll name you second in charge with the understanding that I’m evaluating you to replace me when I step aside.”
Evaluating me to take the job that was always supposed to be mine, but I don’t say that. “Which will be when?” I ask instead.
“As far as the board is concerned, I represent the majority stockholders. When I decide it’s safe to step aside and hand you the keys, they’ll accept that decision.”
“They have to agree.”
“They’ll push back tomorrow because you’re your father’s daughter. They’ll stop pushing back when the numbers say they should.”
“They’ll think it’s all you.”
“If I let them, but I won’t. I have a company to run and it’s not this one.”
“In other words, I have to trust you, a man I cuffed and left in a hotel room for being a bastard.” I don’t give him time to reply. “Will I attend this meeting?”
“No,” he says. “They want a closed-door management discussion, but it’ll be recorded. You can listen to it, but so can others. In other words, we have to deal with this here, in this office, today.”
I cut my gaze and swallow the knot in my throat before looking at him. “What are you going to say?”
“I’m going to tell them your father retired and I stepped in to help take the company to a new level, something you support and endorse. My role is temporary.”
“They will figure out what really happened.”
“That is what really happened. Ultimately, your father voluntarily retired. You are the future of the company.”
“Why would your investors accept this option?”
“I told you—”
“You promised them double returns.”
“Yes.” He studies me. “I need to know you see the real picture. Where did it all go wrong?”
I want to shout at him that he’s what went wrong, but that’s me getting emotional again. “The Summerton and Waterbrook projects,” I say. “But Waterbrook sealed our death.”
“What was your role in those projects?”
“Advisor to my father.”
“Then you told him to go on them?” he challenges.
My lips thin. “He made the calls.”
“Did you tell him they were good moves?”
“I told him to walk away from both.”
“Why?”
“As you know, I’m sure, Summerton was a resort project in another country. The financial instability of the group investing, legal ramifications to a variety of terms, and location challenges were among my list of concerns. There were others.”
“And it ended up half-built without funding.”
“Yes.”
“And Waterbrook. Tell me about Waterbrook.”
“Waterbrook was an early development project in Casper, Wyoming, where an oil and gas boom has started, and the city is just taking shape. On paper it made sense.”
“But?”
“I disliked Max Waterbrook, the key investor in the project. It was a gut feeling. I couldn’t find the facts to support it, but I knew he was trouble. And now our project is dirt, quite literally, and he’s disappeared with the money.”
“If there’s a snake in the grass, you make sure he’s your snake.”
“Like you?” I dare.
“If you believe that, you shouldn’t have signed the papers. I don’t lie or cheat, Carrie. I’m here because there were people on that board losing big money over your father’s decisions. They sold off stock to allow the takeover. They wanted him out. They want the money he lost back, and if I were them, I’d damn sure want the same. My investors, however, just want money as fast as they can get it. None of them sought out West Enterprises on a personal mission.”