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“Fuck no. They have meetings before ten a.m. Who does that?”
Most of corporate America. “So you’re not planning to pitch in?”
“I’m busy with my life. If it helps, I feel sorry for you, having to deal with Shane. He’s my oldest brother, and I love him…but he’s useless. For real.”
“Yet he’s somehow going to run the organization?” I gently point out how stupid that is in the hopes it will make a difference to this guy. But I’m not holding my breath.
Rogan Rawson has all the potential in the world…and seemingly no drive. He has two degrees, one in physics, the other in chemistry. Unlike Shane, he finished college—with honors. And unlike Brady, he had job offers galore when he graduated. But Rogan was seemingly born with a silver spoon in his mouth and thinks he’s entitled to start at executive-level compensation, choose his work environment, and make his own hours. So like the spoiled heir he is, when he didn’t get his way, Rogan declined all the job offers and decided to extend his childhood until someone gave him a “real” opportunity.
He’s bent. The world doesn’t owe this guy anything. But that’s not my problem.
“Hey, Shane gets paid to do it. I could run circles around him, but Dad thinks I’m ‘irresponsible,’ so I’ll let him and his golden boy figure it the fuck out. Not that my oldest brother is capable of that.”
Rogan took the words right out of my mouth. “Any clue how I’m supposed to help this company if no one wants to even get involved enough to send me a few financial statements?”
The guy hesitates a long time, then sighs. “Look, you didn’t hear this from me, but the person who’s really going to end up running things is the one person my dad won’t acknowledge. He has a daughter.”
Not according to what I read on the internet. “Come again?”
“Jesus, this is so ridiculous. My dad went through… I don’t know what to call it. A mid-thirties crisis? He had an affair with an employee. She was single and twenty and broke. He was older and rich and horny. I didn’t pay attention to the gory details. I just know that, about ten years ago, this girl showed up on our doorstep and claimed she was Dad’s daughter. A blood test proved her right. All hell broke loose. Mom divorced Dad. He tried to pretend his affair never happened and sent the girl away. I don’t know what happened after that, but now she’s running a whole division of Dad’s operation. I hear people are going around Shane to get help from Sloan. That’s her name.”
“Why?” Do they perceive she has some authority because she’s the boss’s illegitimate daughter? And if that’s common knowledge, why couldn’t I find that out when I started digging?
“She’s really fucking smart and not shy about expressing her opinion. She’s a leader. She gets shit done and doesn’t hesitate to make the hard decisions. Of course, no one knows who she really is, and you didn’t hear the truth from me, but I think her fellow employees see the writing on the wall.”
I have my suspicions what he means, but I still ask. “And what’s that?”
“Shane will never be qualified to run Dad’s enterprises. It’s too complicated. Brady doesn’t give two shits, and I care even less. But Sloan? She doesn’t quit and doesn’t allow failure. She’s the son Dad always wanted. If you’re serious about helping Reservoir, start with her.”
I am serious about helping, just not Bruce Rawson. “Got her number?”
“No. We don’t…” He huffs. “It’s not like we’re family.”
I refrain from pointing out they are exactly that. Evan is lucky that his brothers and sisters didn’t cut him off simply because their dad had a wandering dick and loved planting his seed in most of his assistants, including Evan’s mother. Thankfully, the Reed clan welcomed my buddy with open arms.
“Got it. Do you know her last name?” I’ve got to find her if I’m going to make any fucking progress on this case. The clock is already ticking…
“O’Neill. And she looks just as Irish as she sounds.”
What does that mean? I don’t get to ask before Rogan starts talking again.
“Shit. I’ve said too much. Keep this on the down low, huh? Dad would kill me if this news got out.”
“You got it. I won’t tell a soul.” I’ll just use the knowledge against them when the time is right. “Thanks.”
March 6
The following morning, I wake up at the ass crack of dawn, Maui time, to continue the illusion that I’m consulting from Phoenix. It’s still early in Dallas, so I plan to leave a message for Sloan O’Neill. Instead, she picks up on the first ring.
“O’Neill here.” Her voice sounds crisply competent.
“Hi, Ms. O’Neill, I’m Jeremy McBride, the—”
“Consultant Bruce Rawson hired to take Reservoir to the next level and prepare us for global expansion, yes. How can I help you?”
In one sentence, she’s already given me more useful information than all three of Rawson’s sons combined. I had no idea their corporate goal was global expansion. That explains their interest in Wynam… “I wondered if I could have a few minutes of your time. I’d like to understand your capacity in the organization and—”
“Have you spoken to Shane Rawson?”
