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“Thank you, Mr. Gears. You’re right. My father spent the last fifty years building on his father’s dream. He did well. More than anyone ever envisioned. He instilled that same vision in me and I continue to bring new opportunities to this company, as you know. Many, if not all of you, have known me since I could walk. You’ve seen me learn at the knee of a great man. This company will be here fifty years from now and your children will be sitting where you are today caring for the legacy we’ve left behind. No wedding bells will threaten that.”
Marshall took a few more questions before politely excusing himself.
“I’m sure you’re all anxious to get home to your families and start your summer vacations. Grab a cold one for me wherever your travels take you.”
It took a colossal effort to pull enough energy together for a smile, but he truly appreciated each and every member of his company. Tired and red-eyed, he shook hands and accepted condolences.
There had been a time he loved the heat of a Texas summer. All the sun, the thrill of summer thunderstorms, and a nice cold beer on his back porch.
Every year his company gave workers a few extra days off in rotation so they could have a summer to talk about with their families. On those days they were a skeleton crew. Just like today.
Most office doors stood open, desks empty and rooms dark. He made his way back to his and worked up another smile for the only other woman in his life outside his mother and sister.
A woman with silver hair and black-rimmed glasses that looked to be his mother’s age, waited, coffee in hand. “Mrs. Carter, you’re an angel. I mean it. Hand to God.”
He took the offered steaming mug of coffee, his fourth, maybe fifth of the night, morning. He couldn’t tell. It all kind of blended together. “Don’t take this wrong, but why aren’t you already out of here on your way to Hawaii?” He leaned against the side of the large oak desk positioned like a barrier meant to curb unsolicited interruptions and took a big gulp of coffee.
As gatekeepers went, Mrs. Carter might look like a sweet woman who’d foist cookies on you the second you entered her territory, but she would body-block like a Sumo wrestler if need be. That was loyalty in Marshall’s book.
“I’m on my way out the door right now, so no fussing, Mr. Blackwood. Mr. Carter and I leave promptly at eleven o’clock.”
“It’s about time you got out of the city. You do more than your fair share of keeping me on the straight and narrow. Enjoy your vacation and if you want to take a couple of extra days, that’s fine by me.”
“None of that, Mr. Blackwood. I’ll be back here and on time for your birthday party in two weeks. Haven’t missed one in thirty-six years. Not going to start now. You make sure you don’t spend your summer time off cooped up in your office or I’ll have to cut my trip short.”
He stood and gave a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” Not many got to boss him around but his father’s former secretary, now his, had earned a place in their family, here and as a family friend, and often spent the holidays with them.
He turned the handle to his office but paused before going in. “Mrs. Carter, would you call my father’s lawyer and have him come straight in when he arrives, please.”
“More work, I see. Should I stay on a little longer before leaving, Mr. Blackwood?”
“No, Mrs. Carter. I wouldn’t want to miss your plane.”
She patted his arm with a kind smile on her lips. “I’ll make the call.”
With his office door closed, he loosened his tie and shucked his suit jacket. Noon rolled around and below the city streets crawled with people trying to beat the heat.
Lining the right side of his office was his personal library of every book he could find on corporate law, oil drilling, rig engineering—anything and everything to operate his company. While his brother was the company’s lawyer, and his two other brothers oversaw the drilling and engineering of the drilling rigs, he still liked to do his own research.
Some of the books were passed down from his father, most he handpicked for the more modern regulations oil companies operated under. He plucked a brown, textured hardback off the shelf.
His father could play dirty, but so could he. It was time to take back a little control. Every law had a loophole, even last wills and testaments. Marshall bet if he and the man that helped his father write the will dug deep enough they were bound to find something to get him off the hook.
Marshall took a couple more books to thumb through when the lawyer arrived. But for now, he chiseled away at the stacks of paper he’d left behind earlier and by the time he cleared enough of the paperwork to catch sight of the dark, polished wood, his secretary knocked.
“Mr. Blackwood, Mr. Cruise is here as you requested.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Carter. We’ll see you after Hawaii.”
Marshall stood, tightened the knot of his tie but left the rolled shirtsleeves in place.
“Mr. Cruise, come in. You might want to grab a fresh coffee from the pot. We might be here a while. I’m afraid you and I’ll not be as lucky as Mrs. Carter. If you’re on board, you’ll be spending your summer elbow-deep in law books looking for a loophole to my father’s will and I’ll be just as deep in contracts.” Marshall reached out and offered the man his hand. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Excuse the mess, won’t you? This past week has been a little hard on us all. We’re down to the final hours on a few projects. You can imagine the stress of the circumstances. Pop didn’t help matters much, I’m afraid.”
“Yes, yes. Nothing to apologize for, Mr. Blackwood. I’m glad you called me. In fact, I was already on my way over.” The man’s brow sprouted sweat drops like he’d just walked straight out of the Devil’s sauna. Brown tufts of hair stuck out in all directions from the numerous times he’d run his hands through it, no doubt.
He knew the look well himself. And that worried him.
“There’s been a terrible mistake, Mr. Blackwood.”
