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Chapter1
Max
Lennard,the chief financial officer, slides a folder with some force towards me from the other end of the conference table. There are five chairs between us on both sides—all filled with company executives as we sit in Sutherland's head office in west London.
I stop the folder and straighten it in front of me before flipping it open.Sutherland’s Department Store Profit and Lossis printed at the top of the dossier.
“Why am I only seeing these figures now?” I ask, pinning Lennard with a no-nonsense stare.
Lennard shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “We knew you were busy putting your father’s affairs in order. Besides, it’s not unusual for revenue to dip mid-year. We were hoping sales would pick up—”
“Don’t make this about me,” I cut across him. “And this is far more than a mid-year dip.” I wave a hand at the figures. Looking slowly around the room, I make eye contact with each person in turn. “My father employed every one of you to do a job. So let me rephrase the question. Why am I only now learning that Sutherland’s is operating in the red? We’re a luxury department store, rivalled only by Harrods. I’m sure their profits look a lot bloody healthier than this.”
Ten pairs of eyes drop to the conference table as they fidget nervously. Seems no one can answer my question.
I scan the document again. “Loss after loss, quarter after quarter, and no one in this board room can explain what the fuck has gone wrong. Why we’re in a situation where we could lose everything.”
I thought I’d sidestepped this responsibility, but I was wrong. I should’ve known the day would come when I’d have to step into my father’s rather large and hard-to-fill shoes and take over the family business. It’s my destiny, my fate, a foregone conclusion… and an inescapable albatross around my neck. With the death of my father two months ago, the family legacy has fallen squarely on my broad shoulders.
And it’s up to me to find a solution.
If I can’t right the sinking ship that is Sutherland's, everything will go tits up, and the business established by my great-great-grandfather will crumble.
I was groomed to run this company from the day I was born. But I rebelled after university when I decided to travel. Spending time in Europe fostered my passion for cuisine, and befriending a pastry chef in Paris cemented my future plans—much to my father’s disappointment and disapproval.
I'd just fulfilled my dream of opening a patisserie in London’s Covent Garden when he died. Now, I’m setting aside my passion to do the right and responsible thing to keep my family legacy and future intact.
If you want something done right, do it yourself.
My father’s words echo in my ears. Shit, I miss him, even though his disappointment in my decision to focus my career elsewhere has always sat heavily on my conscience. He never understood why I wanted to do anything other than slide dutifully into the role he assigned me.
Employing a team of “experts” was his compromise, allowing him to take a step back from the daily stresses of the business. He thought he’d have more time to enjoy semi-retirement with my mother, but a massive heart attack curtailed their plans.
Guilt slices deep into my gut and squeezes a fist around my heart. If I’d been the son he wanted and shared the burden of the business, he might still be here.
While I don’t fully trust the high-level executives my father installed, I can’t lay the blame entirely at their door. I have to assume some responsibility too. It’s not a case of taking my eye off the ball because I wasn’t watching the fucking thing in the first place. I was perfecting pastries and building a business model for my patisserie.
But I’m now the sole owner of Sutherlands. My dreams will have to take a back seat while I figure out what needs to be done to get the family business back on track. Then, I’ll install a competent CEO I can trust and assume an investment and advisory role to ensure things continue to run smoothly.
“Sitting in an executive office presiding over facts and figures won’t give me the answers I need, and neither can any of you, it seems,” I state, my mind busy working the problem.
“What do you suggest?” Lennard asks uncertainly.
“Dragging Sutherland’s back into the black requires fresh ideas from those in the know. We need to be innovative and modern and inspire brand loyalty with a new, younger generation. I suspect that Sutherland’s is lacking in ways that you”—I cast my eyes around the board room—“have no clue how to manage.”
Mutters of discontent ripple through the air at my blunt words.
“I’m sorry, but I fail to see how training as a pastry chef qualifies you to have any relevant experience when it comes to Sutherland’s,” the head of marketing challenges.
I meet his gaze head-on. Much as I dislike it, his question is valid. “Inheriting the mantle of a well-established department store may not have been my choice, but I can assure you that no one is more committed to ensuring that my family business remains intact and thrives. With regards to experience, I spent ten years as a business consultant before I switched directions, and my master's degrees in business and hospitality more than qualify me to tackle the issues we now face.”
“It will take more than a few master’s degrees to salvage Sutherland’s,” he points out.
I nod. I take a deep breath and straighten up in my chair, trying to shake off the negative thoughts. This team is all I’ve got, and I need to figure out a way to get them on board. “You’re right. It will take hard work, dedication, and each of us acknowledging where we fucked up. No one enjoys having their shortcomings held up in front of them, but this isn’t the time for bruised egos. This is the time to listen to our customer base and pull together as a team to make Sutherland’s better than it’s ever been.”
Positive murmurs and nods circle the room.
“So, where do we start?” Lennard asks.
