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My mother ignored him and gestured at two men in business suits who’d stood upon my arrival. “These are your father’s estate attorneys. They’re here to go over some of his final wishes.”
They introduced themselves and offered their condolences. I couldn’t help but notice that they’d been the only ones so far to even acknowledge I’d lost my father. In fact, since the moment my mom had called, they were the first ones to even mention he was dead.
That reality struck me harder than I expected. It had never occurred to me one of my parents would pass away this soon, and the experience was disorienting. I felt like I was a yacht that had not only come untethered from its mooring but had also been whisked out to sea in a storm.
There were so many words left unspoken between my father and me, words I’d never get to say now. I’d spent my entire life trying to convince him I was worthy of his love and attention, and he’d still died disappointed in me. There was nothing I could do to change that.
I drew a shuddering breath and tried to focus on the attorneys as they read the trust provisions that disposed of my father’s estate. But the words were meaningless.
A flood of memories assaulted me without warning. Mercy’s eyes meeting mine before he softly praised me for the way I handled Branson during a river crossing. Norma’s warm smile as she thanked me for doing the dishes long after the other hands had escaped for the bunkhouse. Tyler’s enthusiastic gratitude as he told me how much happier he was at Silver Fork than he’d been at his family’s own ranch. Boone’s comment about being proud of me as we lay in our postcoital haze under the clear Wyoming sky.
Just thinking about Boone made me ache for him in a way that didn’t seem possible. Despite having so much unsettled between us, I wished he were here by my side. I wished I could feel his hand slip into mine, his fingers squeezing me as he murmured in my ear that I would be okay—I would make it through this.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My thoughts were interrupted by Winthrop’s outburst.
My mother cleared her throat sharply, dragging me back to the present. Everyone in the room was looking at me expectantly, and I realized there was something I’d missed. I blinked, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
Winthrop threw up his hands. “See what I mean? There’s a reason his father fired him. He’s incompetent at best. In no world would Dick Sr. leave Richard in charge of Dunning Capital.” He practically spat my name.
I blinked. “Excuse me?” I hated to agree with Uncle Winthrop, but he was right—there was no way my father would have left me anything related to his company.
“Your father was quite clear,” the older of the two lawyers explained. “After his death, he intended for you to inherit and run Dunning Capital. With some conditions, of course.” He began to tick off the requirements on his fingers as he explained. “You’d be a full-time employee with the same requirements as other senior management in terms of necessary hours in the office, time off, holidays, etc. Current C-level management would stay in place to assist you. You’d be allowed to hire as necessary, but your father was quite clear that his one requisite was that you would be required to work.”
“I would have to be the CEO of Dunning Capital,” I said, just to hear it out loud. “Actively.”
“Yes, sir,” the attorney said with a nod. “For a period of five years. After that point, assuming all conditions have been met, then the business becomes yours with no further conditions or requirements.”
Uncle Winthrop laughed. “Since when has Richard held down a job for five weeks, much less five years?”
For a moment, I considered accepting the job just so I could turn around and immediately fire my uncle.
“And if he fails to meet the conditions?” my mother asked.
I glanced her way, stung by her lack of faith in me.
“Come now, Richard,” she said, her expression exasperated. “We both know you’re hardly qualified to run a billion-dollar business.”
Winthrop snorted. “He’ll fucking bankrupt the company by year’s end.”
I stared at them both, appalled. “I have a business degree, you know. I also worked for Dunning Capital for quite some time, if you recall. I can do it.”
And suddenly, I knew I was speaking the truth. I could do it. I’d been raised to run this company, and I’d spent years listening to my father in addition to educating myself in business. I could take over my father’s legacy.
More than that, I could have my old life back. A luxury penthouse in the city. A personal shopper at Neiman’s. Nights out with my friends at the clubs on the weekends. Summer vacations to Fire Island and the family house in the Hamptons. The dream I’d dreamed for the longest time.
