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I felt the courtroom’s eyes on me, and I couldn’t help but cast my gaze over to Stella. I wanted to see what she was doing. Was she listening? Would she even look at me?
I saw her staring at the judge intently, but whether she was listening to me or not, I couldn’t tell.
I had to take a deep breath to keep my emotions at bay.
“I have been informed that there is a 10 percent stake in the company stock-wise in Charles Harte’s name that has not been allocated to anyone. I would like to challenge that,” I said.
“With what?” the judge asked.
“When I was going through some of my stepfather’s things, I came across a file of old papers. Papers from when he first started the company. In it, there is a basic allocation of stock from the company’s initial public offering, when their stocks first hit the public to be purchased and allocated accordingly. In it, there is a 10 percent chunk of stock underneath Charles Harte’s name. But, it is specified for a purpose.”
“Let me see the piece of paper,” the judge said.
My lawyer walked up to him and handed him the document in question, signed and notarized for our court date.
“The 10 percent chunk of stock is not designated for Charles Harte, Your Honor. It was taken out in his name so he could control whether or not somebody purchased it, but look at the purpose for the stock.”
I watched the judge scan the papers before his eyes settled on the line in question, and I could see a grin beginning to form on his lips. I looked over at Stella, whose eyes were cast down in her lap.
It was like she wasn’t even trying.
“That stock was purchased for the sole purpose of charity. The stock is sitting in a portfolio somewhere, waiting to be cashed in for his charities, Your Honor. That stock is not for Charles Harte; it is only controlled by him. However, one could argue that it’s technically controlled by the company, since it wasn’t for my stepfather’s personal use. With that argument, his estate becomes settled, because that type of stock would obviously default to blood-related family to manage just like the rest of his financial estate has been. So, I am here to argue that the company be reinstated back within my control, as per Charles Harte’s last will and testament.”
I saw the judge look over the piece of paper at me with a sly grin on his face. His eyes began to crinkle, and his nose started to turn red, and I heard Stella let out a long, heavy sigh. It was like someone was clued into a secret I hadn’t figured out yet, and I was growing a bit weary of the situation.
“Your Honor, I know that giving over this company has been hard on my stepsister. Her father and she shared a bond I’ll never truly understand. But, the company flourished underneath my leadership. Charles Harte left me Harte to Heart because he saw a passion within me I had not yet discovered in myself, and he knew the only way I would find it was to throw me into it. He knew me that well, Your Honor, because I was his son. I am his son. While I was the CEO of the company, we not only obtained a lucrative new client, we were able to keep the company out of a hole Charles Harte was about to dig while increasing our bottom line and finding a way to help more of the people Mr. Harte wanted to in the first place. I am good for the company, and the company has been good for me. But, I cannot do it without Stella. Had it not been for her, I never would’ve learned how to fit a suit, or conduct a professional meeting, or even earn the respect of the employees. It worked when I was the CEO, and she was the VP, but it doesn’t work if she’s not there. Period.”
“So, what do you expect me to do? Hand the company over to you and force her to work there? I can’t legally do that,” the judge asked.
“No, Your Honor, and I know you can’t. I am hoping you will agree with me and give me back a company that has opened its arms to me. The rest falls on my shoulders and my shoulders alone. If anything, this was what my stepfather wanted in the first place, for me to run the company. What we had to figure out on our own was the fact that Stella and I could work together as a team. He knew she would never give me a position at the company with the way our relationship was before he passed, so he passed the company to me to create the tension necessary to bring us together. That was his plan, and it was a hell of a good one.”
“Watch your language in my courtroom, Mr. Gunn,” the judge warned.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor.”
“But, you are right. It is a hell of a plan,” the judge said, winking. “Miss Harte, do you have anything to say?”
I looked over at her and saw tears threatening to pour down her face. Her hands were trembling in her lap, and she looked as if she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
What was wrong with my Stella?
“May I, uh, go to the restroom quickly, Your Honor? I didn’t want to interrupt Mr. Gunn during his impassioned speech.”
I saw the pity drip in the judge’s eyes before he granted her the opportunity. She flew from her chair, straightening out her clothes while she fled through the doors of the courtroom. Stella was hurting. She was in emotional pain that was causing her physical distress, and it appeared she wasn’t getting any sleep. Maybe I had done the wrong thing. Should I go running after her? Maybe I should’ve talked to her instead of running away from her the way I did. I should’ve gone to check up on her. Why didn’t I call her? I should’ve stopped by the company to see how she was doing, no matter how much it hurt to be there.
And that’s when I realized something.
The protectiveness and the anger. The betrayal and the hatred. The loss of a compass and the lack of purpose. These were all things Stella felt when she heard the company was to be handed over to me.
This was how Stella felt during the days she was conversing with her lawyer about all this.
I wanted to run after her. To scoop her up into my arms and tell her that I understood. That I got it. That I finally understand how she felt wh
en the company she had called home for years had been ripped from her. I wanted to kiss her hands and ask her what happened. I wanted to take her to her doctor’s appointments and make sure they were going to heal alright. I wanted to help her with her pain medication and wipe the tears falling from her cheeks.
But instead of allowing myself to careen out of control, I simply stayed seated.
“I can’t do this to her,” I said.
