AllFreeNovel
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Jax
For the first time in a month, I feel like I may have a chance at turning our losses around. Even if I don’t know why my dad did what he did, my siblings and I can pitch in with our personal assets and shore up the company’s losses. Temporarily. Long enough to buy us time to figure out what’s going on.
At least, that’s my last-ditch idea before Dash’s random deadline to tell him what’s going on. I’ve researched every business database in the country, and there’s no winery, no business, no person named Hayden Lanes.
And despite the new protocol, my dad’s cognizance hasn’t improved this week. I haven’t been able to get any information from him, and time is running out. Our shareholder meeting is approaching, and I’ll either need to answer for why their investment has tanked or I’ll need to find money to replace what my dad spent.
My last-ditch solution is to borrow against our assets and put the money back into the company. It could work. I’ve run through the numbers and figured out how much it will cost the company in interest—a metric shit ton.
And I’ll need my siblings to sign off on the plan, which will force me to admit we have a big problem. I don’t want to do it, but I feel better knowing I have a potential, worst-case solution.
The result is that I can exhale for the first time in months. I celebrate with an almond croissant and a latte from the café.
I’m brushing the crumbs from my desk when both of my sisters ambush me in my office. “You’re the worst.” PJ perches on the edge of my sofa, finger pointed at me accusingly.
“What did I do now?”
She doesn’t know I might be using her money for collateral, so it can’t be that. But honestly, it could be just about anything else.
Trix laughs and picks lint from her navy blue suit. The only difference in her appearance from day to day is whether she wears her hair in a pony or a bun. Today, it’s a bun.
“You’re dating Ruby and I had to hear about it from Trix.”
Oh. That. “I’m not required to share my dating life with you, am I?”
“You most certainly are. I share with you.” The way she juts her lip out reminds me of Fiona, who gave me that exact look when I told her she couldn’t wear cowboy boots to camp this morning.
“Sharing that you haven’t gotten laid in three months isn’t the same thing. And frankly, I’d just as soon not know about it.”
“Not true anymore,” she sings. In a pair of white cashmere sweatpants and a striped shirt, she looks like an upscale sailor.
“TMI, Peej. Seriously.”
PJ presents me with a bakery bag, and I wonder why all my siblings seem to think they can bribe me with food. I’m not too proud to peek inside, however, and I spot another almond croissant. I’m in a good enough mood today that I might eat a second one.
Before I can make that decision, we’re joined by Archer and Dash. “Did someone call a family meeting I didn’t know about?” I joke. That’s how relieved I am today—I actually joke.
“Yup,” Archer says. No sense of humor to be found. He’s still wearing his running clothes, so I get the impression this meeting was very impromptu.
“That so?” I’m starting to feel less excited about the second croissant, and that’s a sign I should walk out of my own office. But my siblings have other ideas.
“What were you talking about with Dad?” Archer asks.
I shoot a look at Dash, who shrugs. “Come on. It seems relevant if we’re losing a bunch of money and the rest of us aren’t in the loop. So get us up to speed.”
With four of them staring me down, I have two options. I can deflect, make up a lie about what our dad meant, or I can tell them what’s going on. If I want to borrow against our personal assets, I’ll need them to sign off, so door number two quickly becomes the best choice.
“Dad spent a lot of money buying grapes we don’t need or paying to settle lawsuits he won’t talk about. I have no idea why, but now I have to account for a big loss on the books for what he spent. That’s the gist.” Maybe they’ll be satisfied and leave me alone.
Nope.
There are questions, so many questions. Why did I wait so long to tell them? Why would Dad do that? What do I mean, the company doesn’t exist? How much money are we talking about?
I answer them all. “I was hoping to resolve it without involving you. I’m the financial guy; it’s my problem…Dad has dementia—he does a lot of things that don’t make sense…There’s no record of a winery or a person named Hayden Lanes, but he mentioned them…It’s a half a billion dollars.”
The cacophony of voices ensues again, and I can’t make out a single train of thought until Archer’s voice booms above the rest. “Hang on.”
Everyone stops and looks at him.
