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“You know the kind of business I’m in, Amanda.” He went for a factual approach—but one that was devoid of self-implication. “It’s a tough one to run, and I run it. I can only speak for my own actions. No one else’s.”
Amanda had a hard time hiding her disgust. “I understand that,” she forced herself to say. “And, I know that if you had any information at all that might help find Paul, you would have shared it.”
“Of course I would.” Fenton’s stance was relaxed now. He was back on sure footing. “Are you holding up all right?”
“Touch-and-go.” Amanda didn’t have to fake the pain in her voice. “Justin is in a very precarious state. He’s sick. He’s gotten sicker. And all the antibiotics in the world can’t cure him—not without an immune system to fight things off.”
“I know.” Fenton looked genuinely concerned, which he was, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. He cleared his throat. “But, as I said, I know you’ll find a donor. Which is why I want to discuss Justin’s future—especially now when I’ll be away for a while.”
“Away?” Amanda gave him a quizzical look. “Where are you going?”
“On a business trip. I have to check in with some of the Fenton Dredging operations on both coasts. I have several large maritime contracts in the works.”
Fenton paused. “In any case, tending to my empire has made me think about the future of my company. Because of that, I’ve made some changes in my will.”
“Don’t do anything for me, Uncle Lyle,” Amanda couldn’t stop herself from saying. “In your world, money might be a panacea. Not in mine.”
“It’s not a panacea. But it does help. It’s also not about you, although you’ve been well-provided for.” Fenton didn’t avert his gaze. “I’ve set up two separate trust funds for Justin, both of which you’ll manage until he comes of age. The first will pay for any health-related issues that might arise because of his condition. You’d be surprised how many items slip between the medical insurance cracks. The second will provide for his future—college, grad school, anything else he might need. It’s a substantial sum.”
Amanda hadn’t been prepared for that. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. On the one hand, she hated taking anything from her uncle. On the other hand, the money was for Justin. Altruism was one thing. Real life was another. If anyone had learned that in the past month, it was she.
However, if any of that trust fund money was dirty…
“Thank you,” she said simply. “That’s a very generous gesture on your part. But I’ll have to think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about. It’s done. And it’s not about generosity.” Fenton wasn’t finished yet. “It’s about blood ties. Justin is your son, and my great-nephew. He’s also the future of Fenton Dredging.”
Amanda blinked. “Pardon me?”
“I’m leaving my entire empire to him,” was the blunt response. “I have no grandchildren. But I do have a great-nephew. And I have a business empire that I built from the ground up. It’s my legacy, the only one I have. I want it in the family. So I’m leaving it to Justin.”
This time Amanda had an immediate reaction. “That’s way over-the-top,” she said. “It’s also unrealistic. We have no idea what Justin’s goals or interests will be. He might not have any desire to be a business mogul. And, if he does, he may have no affinity for dredging or for building jetties or docks. I don’t want to saddle him with that responsibility.”
Fenton sucked in his breath. “It’s not a responsibility. It’s a gift. If I don’t leave it to Justin, it will just become part of my estate, which will go to the two of you anyway. I prefer to believe your son will keep my business empire going—no, thriving—even if he opts not to take an active part in running it. It’s not just a gift, it’s a favor. In a sense, Fenton Dredging is my only child. I want it to flourish. So please don’t refuse my wishes. Should the time come and should Justin refuse to have any part of my legacy, he can sell it or dissolve it as he sees fit. At least I won’t be alive to know about it.”
Amanda had never heard her uncle speak so fervently or so emotionally. It took her aback.
“All right,” she agreed, studying his face and wondering how many facets of Lyle Fenton existed. “I won’t make that decision for Justin. He can make it himself when he’s old enough to do so. That’s all I can promise you.”
“That’s all I’m asking—and one thing more.”
“Which is?”
“I’d like to see Justin before I leave.”
Amanda stiffened. “He’s in a reverse isolation unit, Uncle Lyle. You know that. No one but a restricted few are permitted in there. Plus, he’s on a ventilator and he has a chest tube. He’s very sick. There are no visitors allowed. Period.”
“I didn’t plan to go inside,” her uncle replied. “I just want to see him through the window.”
“You just saw him the other day.”
“Humor me.” Fenton shifted, casting a quick, uncomfortable glance at the FI team. Their lack of reaction to his presence was starting to unnerve him. Especially Devereaux, who’d rejoined the group a little while ago. Why was he just standing there? The last time they’d been in a room together, the SOB had practically crushed his windpipe. Was it the restraining order? Was it the fact that there were other people around and he couldn’t risk physical violence?
Whatever it was, Fenton wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.
“I’m going to be away for a while,” he told his niece. “I’d like to see my great-nephew before I leave.”
A tight knot formed in Amanda’s stomach. “Is this your way of saying goodbye, just in case…” She didn’t finish her sentence. “Because I don’t want any of that negative energy around my son. We’re all thinking positive thoughts.”
