Page 19 of The Cost of Love

I shut the door and slide into the leather chair behind the oak desk. Looking out of the windows that line two sides of the room, I try to gather my thoughts.

All I can think about is last night. Chanice coming undone on top of me with only the help of my mouth. Her eagerness to do so much more. If one thing is obvious from yesterday, it’s that we have chemistry. Passion, unfurled in our kiss, that laid the groundwork for the rest of the evening. I can’t help but look forward to the next time we meet, where we can go even further. Where I can show her even more. This isn’t what I had planned, but I am open to seeing where this will go.

A knock sounds at my door, and a brown-haired woman pops her head in.

“Mr. Whitmore?” she asks, looking to me for permission to enter.

I wave her in and sit up a little straighter, placing my hands on the desk.

“I am Anna Welch. I was your father’s assistant. Yours now, I guess.” She shrugs.

Whether she stays my assistant or not is yet to be determined. If I am going to do this, I need people I can trust. The way she averts her eyes, she seems easily intimidated. Not good for keeping secrets.

“Hello, Ms. Welch, how can I help you?”

“The board has arrived early and is demanding the meeting start now.”

I lift one eyebrow. This is a clear tactic meant to throw me off. She looks scared of how I will respond, likely used to my father’s fits of angry outbursts. I smile at her and stand.

“Lead the way.”

She takes me onto the floor and veers left towards the conference rooms. Pointing to the biggest one, she looks shakily at me once more before taking off back to her desk. With one big breath in and out, I step forward and open the door.

Seated around the table are men I have grown up with. They frequented our house for parties and events, even attending the over-the-top soirees that were my birthdays. I have known them as friends and family. Today, they are my foe. Gifting them with my best head nod, I slide into the only open seat at the head of the table.

“About time,” says Lorenzo Renaldo. The man my father cursed about more often than not after every meeting they had.

His disagreeable demeanor apparently didn’t stop with the generation before mine, as he extends a scowl to me now. I want to laugh at his lack of patience, but instead offer what I hope is a sincere frown.

“My apologies, I was just informed that the meeting was moved up. Let’s not waste any more time.” Cutting down the ability for them to complain further, I open up the conversation to what brought them here.

“So, the prodigal son has returned,” Lorenzo says, taking up the role of speaker for all of them.

Seated across from me, he is in the other seat at the head. My instincts call for me to mockingly bow and demand they all refer to me as king, but instead, I just smile in good humor.

“So what are you expecting to happen here?” he asks.

“Only what has always been the expectation. I will take up the role of CEO, and my seat on the board as majority shareholder.” I throw that last bit of information out there as a reminder. No matter how they feel about me, I will be present.

“What makes you think you get to be the CEO?” He looks around the room as everyone nods with him in clear agreement.

“Why wouldn’t I be, is the better question.” Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms.

“Well, for one, you didn’t come to work at the company after you graduated, as is the expectation. You have no idea how things run. The only reason you are here now is because your father passed. May he rest in peace.” Lorenzo touches his chest, where I know his cross sits hanging on a gold chain.

I stop my eyes from rolling, knowing that he cares as much about my dad’s death as I do. Instead, I show my teeth in a way that is more threat than anything else as I sit forward in my chair.

“I grew up in this company. I know it very well. As well, my MBA more than qualifies me to take up the role. Let’s discuss the actual issue here. You all assumed, for one reason or another, I wouldn’t be returning. So you got it in your heads that things will change. However, whether you like it or not, this company was started by a Whitmore and will continue to be run by one.” He goes to interrupt me, but I hold up a hand.

“I have already secured a new shipping deal with America Knight, which will likely double our profit margins. I have plans for expansion on all fronts, and I know what my father had in mind for the next ten years. I am not replaceable.” I look each one of them in the eye, making my intentions very clear. Some lower their gaze, not ready to face me as they turn to Lorenzo for his lead.

“We have discussed things and, at best, we are comfortable with you being Interim CEO on a trial basis. In six months, we will reconvene and decide whether you keep that role.” He looks less than satisfied that it has come to this, but he offers up their last play.

Having the most shares, I can override their decision and make the choice, but I know that won’t win them over to my side. In the end, whether we like it or not, we all have to be on the same page.

“Fair enough,” I say, relenting. No one won this battle, but it was the first in what looks to be a long war for control.

With nothing left to be discussed, I dismiss them to go back to whatever hole they crawled out of. Instead of returning to my desk, I sit in the silence of the room.