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“Rowan, are we ready to start?” Lionel’s gruff voice murmured.
“Good morning, Lionel. Aiden and I are ready. You called this meeting, so the floor is yours.”
My uncle was so like my father in looks that it was discomforting – the same grey hair and blue eyes. But that was where the similarities ended. My father was a generous and kind man, a true gentleman, whereas my uncle…
“You’ve seen the financials for this quarter, and they’re abysmal. Yet again!” he yelled out. “And you’ve yet to close a new deal. In fact, your record over the past two years has been utterly horrendous!”
“I’ve been working on new prospects. Here’s what I…”
“I’m not finished!” Lionel interrupted, his booming voice jolting me. “We are a private family and a private company, and we prefer to remain that way. Like your father, I’m nearing retirement, and I wish to pass along the family business to family. However, your tasteless media shenanigans are hurtful to our business and reputation which relies on discretion.”
“I don’t court the media, Lionel. I cannot control what they choose to write.”
“I warned you when the media frenzy exploded due to your ex-boyfriend’s notoriety, and now, I’m giving you one last chance. You’ve invited Owen Blakely to join you on board, and this is it. We need his hotel properties to hit our revenue target. Close that deal and prove to me that you are focused again, and I hand over my shares to you for controlling ownership. You become president, CEO, and the majority owner. If, however, you fail to deliver on this contract, you will be terminated, as will your shares, and I will be passing mine to your cousin Aldridge. Carter Inc. will find a new CEO, even if that requires looking outside the family, to find someone who shares our values of hard work, humbleness, and commitment.”
“This is fucking rubbish,” Aiden interjected. “You know that Rowan can leave today and start a new venture given the wealth he’s generated; he has the contacts and the resources.”
Aiden had a point, but it wasn’t that simple. The company was my father’s legacy and mine too after all the work I put into building it. My uncle was a cantankerous old bastard – greedy, manipulative, and solely focused on whatever it took to win. But he was also right. He knew how close my dad and I were and how much this business meant to me. Every moment of my day was consumed with the company. I had poured my heart, sweat, and soul into it, and it was a part of me now. I had taken over from my father as CEO when he retired five years ago. One day, I had hoped to pass on my shares to my children. But my lack of success over these past two years was eating away at me, the stress and pressure compounding with every passing month. For the first time in my career, I was choking, and that was why I escaped toNow, Voyager. My doctor recently put me on blood pressure medication and gave me a stern lecture about balanced lifestyles. At thirty-eight, it was a rude awakening, much like a hookup that refused to leave the next morning.
And it wasn’t just stress that had affected me lately. I had a longing, a need for something other than my work, something that I couldn’t identify. I was often frustrated at my unease, a puzzle that I couldn’t quite piece together. But I was not giving up. Not on the business or myself. I took a mid-scale company and turned it into a billion-dollar empire, and I was not going to relinquish it without a fight.
“This business means a great deal to me, and I am not about to let it fall to the hands of someone else.” I glanced out the window, my eyes zeroing in on Andrew’s tall form as he prepared the outdoor table for my guests’ arrival. Thick black hair ruffled in the wind, his face framed by dark wraparound sunglasses. A shame, really. Such soulful eyes should never be hidden from view. I shook myself out of my ridiculous musings and went back to the business at hand. “Owen arrives shortly, so if you don’t mind, I need to get to work.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Lionel grumbled. “Call me with an update.”
And with that, my uncle disconnected. “A pleasure as always,” I said aloud to myself – and Aiden.
“What a cretinous bastard!” Aiden barked out.
“Indeed. But he’s not wrong, is he, Aiden?”
“Probably not. Your uncle is very detailed, and I assume he’s been documenting everything to make a case against you. Although, you may have a counterclaim due to any diagnosed health issues you’ve experienced lately that are related to your job.”
“I haven’t reported anything. I told you and a select handful of trusted people about my high blood pressure, but I want that kept away from him. I’m not giving in to him or giving up. I’ll close that deal. I have no other option.”
“Let me know how things progress. It’s my opinion that we should hold the medical angle on standby if needed.” Aiden responded, and I reluctantly nodded in return.
I ended the call and looked out the expansive windows, taking in another beautiful day here in paradise - sunny, warm, perfect. Inside, however, the storm my uncle had unleashed was gathering momentum.
I opened my email and watched it upload, multiplying exponentially. I used to thrive on high-pressure situations and tasks, but now my concentration was shite, and the volume of requests just exacerbated my irritable mood. I highlighted the urgent ones that I should answer and forwarded the rest to my second-in-command back in London.
As thoughts about the state of my being continued to churn, I admitted that my intimate life was faring as horribly as my work. My last relationship, the catalyst for all the unwanted press, had been an unmitigated disaster. Realizing your boyfriend was in love with someone else was devastating. And to make matters worse, the press vilifiedme, claiming I had brokenhisheart. It had never been mine to begin with, so there was no chance of that. My ex, Jojo Egeley, was the popular host of a late-night UK TV show after all, and I was just the greedy, ruthless billionaire who’d ruined his happiness…right.
Outside of that, men only valued me for my money and connections, so their motives were suspect. I kept to one-night stands – sometimes a weekend if the sex was good. In the past months, though, even sex wasn’t satisfactory. I got off in the moment, but I was left feeling empty after I came.Bloody hell, I’d never admit that to anyone.Now,I’d reached a point where I had hardly any physical reaction to men I found attractive, which only made my frustration worse.Wait, what about this morning?
I enjoyed the routine task of washing down my ship. It helped me to reorder my spiraling thoughts. What I hadn’t anticipated was the new chief steward coming aboard. Correction, I had been expecting a chief stew but not Andrew. I got wholly distracted and accidentally showered him with the hose. He stood on the deck with his tight jeans and shirt plastered to his lithe body, and I could admit that I’d taken my time to enjoy the view.
And then he blurted out a sarcastic retort, his reaction endearingly honest, which made me laugh. Even Andrew’s subsequent chagrin at the realization that he was mouthing off to the boss was charming. But then I quickly remembered that I didn’t need a shipboard distraction, so that was a curiosity best left alone. My Da warned me, “Don’t shit where you eat, son.” Wise words from a wisecracking Irishman.
My mobile pinged with a notification, and I reluctantly glanced down. I scrolled to see a text from Dylan, my best friend. Dylan Aylmer was an American movie star, a recovering alcoholic, and a soon to be published author. We’d met twenty years ago when I was studying in the United States, and we’d been close ever since. Dylan had experienced a roller coaster of a decade, with two divorces, three stints in rehab, and a recent lull in his acting career. Through it all, I did my best to support him, and I was happy that Dylan had found his way back to a healthy life. We hadn’t seen each other in person in over six months, and I was looking forward to his visit this weekend. His presence would make my other guests palatable.
Dylan:Safe and sound in Grenada waiting for the tender. I can’t say the same for your guests. Do you really spend time with these people? They’re rude to everyone. I’m tempted to push them off the tender in their underinflated life jackets…
Rowan:Sorry. Entertaining clients is a necessary evil in my business. I have spare earplugs if needed, plus a private deck off my suite if you need to escape the madness.
Dylan:good idea
Rowan:Why not use my guests as inspiration for your book?
