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I guess it will be fourteen by this time next year.
Max stands and clears his throat once we all take our plates into the dining room. “Thanks for coming on such short notice today. I know everyone’s busy, so I’ll try to make this quick. Everyone in this room has a stake in King Corp.,” he glances at our sisters’ significant others, “in one way or another. I was approached last week by Will Brenner.”
“The owner of the Philadelphia Revolution?” Jace is practically foaming at the mouth at the mention of the Cup-winning hockey team he loves. “What did he want?”
Max leans his hands against the table in a power move I recognize from sitting in business meetings with him for years. “He wanted to know if King Corp. would be interested in purchasing the team from him. He’s made a few bad business deals, and I believe his last attempt to keep himself above water is to sell off the team.”
Amelia’s husband, Sam, clears his throat. “I’m pretty sure those bad decisions all revolve around a gambling addiction he’s doing a piss-poor job of covering up.”
No one asks our brother-in-law, the mob boss, how he knows this.
Our coexistence works, in part, due to a don’t ask, don’t tell policy.
“Can we afford it?” Becket enjoys playing the part of the joker, but his brain for business rivals some of the best minds in the city.
Max begins passing folders around the table. “I had accounting run the numbers Friday. With a little bit of movement, we can easily afford it. The question is, do we want it? Our legacy is set. The Philadelphia Kings is a profitable franchise. King Corp. is doing better than ever before. Brenner came to us because he’d like to see it stay privately owned, and he was a friend of Dad’s, but we don’t have to do this.”
“When do we have to give him an answer?” I quickly read through the numbers on the page in front of me before I look across the table to Lenny. She’s the real numbers girl. “What do you think, Len?”
She lays her black folder on the table and runs her hand over it, smoothing it out. “According to this profit and loss statement, it looks like it’s running well.” She clears her throat. “I mean, it could run cleaner, but I need some real time to dig in before I could say anything for sure.”
“It looks like it could be a good investment for King Corp. if we can get it at the right price. I guess it depends on just how desperate Brenner is to sell it.” Becks closes his folder and tosses it on the table. The four of us—Lenny, Becks, Max, and I run the Philadelphia Kings. We’re also the four most active family members in King Corp., but each sibling holds shares, including Amelia. We each gifted shares to her last year so she could be an equal partner as well.
“I’ll have the lawyers look into everything this week to see what they can dig up. The full findings will be in your hands as soon as possible after that. We can’t make the final decision until we have all the information.” Max sits back down, and I see Jace out of the corner of my eye, running his hands through his hair, frustration evident in the tightness in his blue eyes.
“We’re really gonna buy a hockey team? So if I get drafted, the whole world can wonder if it’s because I have the skill or just the name.” Jace is a freshman at Kroydon University. He could have put himself in the draft last year, but Max convinced him he needed a few years of college first. He’s one of the top players in the country, and my little brother worked his ass off to get there.
Sebastian, Lenny’s fiancé, turns toward Jace. “It’s not as bad as it seems. Everyone thought the Kings drafted me last year because of your sister. I just had to work harder to prove them wrong. The same thing happened with Declan Sinclair a few years before me. Just worry about getting drafted first. Then deal with the rest.”
“Yeah, you don’t even have to bang one of our sisters to get drafted.” No sooner have the words left Becks’s obnoxious mouth than Lenny’s hand moves under the table, causing him to groan.
It’s safe to assume Becks just got hit with a nut shot, judging by Lenny’s triumphant smile.
Sawyer and Hudson have never shown an interest in working for King Corp. or the Philadelphia Kings. But Sawyer sits across from me with a hesitant look nonetheless.
I kick him with the toe of my shoe. “Spit it out, Sawyer. What are you thinking?”
A muscle in his jaw clenches. “Who’s going to run it?”
Max sits down and takes a sip of coffee before asking, “Why? You ready to hand Kingdom over to a manager and come work with us?”
“No.” He hesitates. “But if we do this, I think it should stay in the family. That’s how we do things, right?”
Max catches my eye and smiles.
Oh shit.
“It is. That’s why I was thinking if we decide to do this, Scarlet should be the new president.” My stomach drops at Max’s declaration.
This is it. This is the position. The one I’ve always wanted but never thought I’d get. Max is the president of the Philadelphia Kings. There can only be one, so I’ve settled for VP. President of the Revolution is my chance, even if it’s with a different team.
As agreements float around the table, Lenny and Amelia both sit, waiting.
Staring.
Silently urging me to make my announcement.
Becks raises his crystal champagne flute into the air, full of a blood orange mimosa. “To a new team, and a much prettier, albeit meaner, organization president than Max.”
