Page 1 of The Focal Point

Chapter 1

Liam

––––––––

“YOU HAVE A BREAKFAST meeting at eight with Terry from Meditech—he’s interested in Tom’s new tech and wants to hear more. His assistant intimated that there might be a possibility for a big investment if he likes it.”

I could hear papers shuffling and the sound of typing on the other side of the phone line as my assistant outlined what the next day would look like for me.

Flipping the signal on, I slowed to wait for a car to move through the intersection before turning onto the next street. “I’m heading to Tom’s now to look at the prototype.”

“Great. You know how detail-oriented Terry is.”

From the way my assistant hesitated before emphasizing “detail-oriented,” I knew other choice words had floated into her head before she had chosen that specific one.

I swallowed a chuckle. “What else is going on tomorrow?”

“After your meeting, you have a call with the CEO of Sacramento Memorial to talk about your donation to the children’s hospital—”

“Right, about that,” I interrupted. “I’ve been thinking I want to add four more units.”

The typing and paper shuffling stopped, and silence descended on the line for a moment before I heard a prolonged intake of breath.

“That will take it up to six units, Liam,” she said, reproach clouding her voice.

“I can count, Gloria,” I chuckled again.

“Jordan isn’t going to be happy about this.” The reproach became a warning.

“I will work it out with Jordan. Don’t worry about it.” Gloria was right—my chief financial officer would be far more than “unhappy.” Livid was more like it. But I always found a way to work things out, even if it edged our poor CFO closer toward a breakdown in the process. At least, that’s what she always told me, her mouth a thin line, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling.

“It’s your company, Liam,” Gloria sighed.

It was a common refrain from my gray-haired assistant, and I grinned even though she couldn’t see me. I was sure she could see it in her head, though. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed amiably.

A chuckle echoed across the line, begrudgingly given from the sound of it. But the typing and shuffling resumed.

“Anything else for tomorrow?” Another turn took me onto a tree-lined avenue of large, modern homes with grassy front yards, hints of large backyards thanks to side gates, and signs of families in the bikes lying abandoned by basketball hoops on the garage doors.

“A lunch meeting with Miranda Paulson from Tree City Capital, and then a call with John Daily from Fresh Faces. They’re still looking for a venue for their fundraiser, but I think one of the high school kids in his program has an idea he thinks you might find interesting,” Gloria replied.

“Oh, great!” Of all my meetings, that was the one that had me most excited. Some of the kids from the program had gone on to do great things, and I couldn’t wait to hear what the director had to say. “You know, I think I might know of someone willing to donate a venue. I’ll send you their contact information when I get to Tom’s.”

“Sure thing, Liam.”

I clicked the turn signal a final time and pulled across the street and into the driveway of a large two-story with a stone-and-siding façade that was halfway to being a mansion.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“No, that’s it.”

I pushed the button to turn my car off and listened to the typing for a moment more.

“Gloria?”

Her distracted answer didn’t come immediately—she had already returned to work even if we hadn’t yet hung up. “Yes?”