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No preamble. Just straight to the point. He liked that and the man’s cunning streak and directness are what kept him as his father’s trusted personal advisor and lawyer for over a decade.
Winded, the man rushed his words as he took the seat opposite Marshall’s desk. Papers burst from the seams of his satchel as if thrown together and stuffed inside in a mad hurry. Contrary to his normal appearance, his jacket got left behind in the rush and his burgundy tie hung in a limp knot of red annoyance.
Marshall’s heart went from steady to eighty in a blink. This didn’t bode well. Not in the least.
Fuck. He better not need that bride by tomorrow. By the looks of it, that’s exactly what the man’s ghost-white face looked like.
The man known for his pristine appearance at all hours looked anything but. All of that added up to something Marshall wavered between him not wanting the answer to wanting to rip the Band-Aid off in one go.
Marshall tossed the contract he’d been reading to the side and leaned forward, lacing his fingers under his chin, opting for the latter. The man wore worry like a second skin.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Cruise? Take a deep breath and start from the top.”
“It’s the will. Your father’s will.”
Shit.
Marshall’s eyes shot to the lawyer’s with laser focus.
“I don’t know how this got so tangled up.” Sweat slid the thick frames of the man’s glasses down the slope of his nose and he paused to push the chunky frames in place before continuing. “Look, it doesn’t matter,” he continued, the glasses refusing to stay put. “Your father’s will, the one I have here and the one read to you and your family, are not one and the same. But maybe we should wait for the others. You should all hear this.” The worry thickened and drowned the man’s dark eyes and made him look ten years older.
He was beginning to feel just as old. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“There’s been a mix-up and I need to set this straight now.”
That had him sitting up in his chair.
A burst of noise broke through the suddenly quiet office as the door swung open and three familiar men with matching worried lines filed through the heavy oak slabs.
“Do you guys not know the meaning of a closed door? What are you guys doing here?” Marshall pegged each of his brothers with an irritated look, perplexed by the sudden interruption.
Shawn was first through the doors with Sam and Cole bringing up the rear. Each had snagged a coffee from the last pot Mrs. Carter had made on their way in and a fresh mug for him.
They held them up in cheers.
Cole, the younger twin by three minutes and second youngest of the family, shrugged. “Don’t go getting your Armani suit in a twist. Shawn said to get here ASAP. So I’m here.”
“Same here.” Cole elbowed Sam, who took up two-thirds of the small loveseat in the corner of his office, to move over. The twin brothers couldn’t be more different in looks if they’d tried. Sam sported a mop of black hair while Cole stood out with a thatch of red hair that made the girls go crazy. Something about looking like Prince Harry. Only Cole and Stella took after father’s sister, thank goodness.
Both Sam and Cole were accused of having boyish charm and a rugged look to them only Texas could give a man. So the women said. He only saw hard-working men that knew their job and brothers that had his back. That didn’t mean they hadn’t raised a little hell growing up that gave their parents a few gray hairs early in life. His mother had to be up for sainthood to have raised such a motley crew.
“Well, you all saved me a phone call. We can go over the new plans on the rig going in in two weeks. Sam. Cole. If you have an extra hour before heading out, I noticed some irregularities that need to be addressed ASAP so we can get the final schematics drawn up and ready to roll.We don’t really have a lot of time to play with if we want to meet the deadline.”
Sam fished out his phone and excused himself to the corner.
Cole rested his arms on his knees like he always did when he needed to focus. He and Sam preferred worn jeans, but not a scuff marked their polished boots.
“By the way,” Marshall waited for Sam to rejoin their little impromptu pow-wow session. “Thank you for being at the board meeting today. Backup was appreciated and I’m sure everyone there saw us as a united front.”
All three brothers nodded.
Shawn took that moment to speak up from his spot by the window. “On my way up I received final word on the Masterson merger contract. We’re a go. Who knew old man Masterson would finally agree to a merger with us. His pride almost did his company in.”
“Have we combed through that contract with a fine-toothed comb? I don’t trust that man any more than I trust his daughter. Those two are always scheming.” Marshall angled his words toward Shawn.
Shawn plucked the contract from Marshall’s hands and settled in the seat opposite the lawyer.
“Why do you think you have this on your desk? But with that said, I’m going to go down to accounting and work through the numbers again. A triple check wouldn’t hurt. I’m sure I can find someone to stay for a few extra hours.”
