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I was halfway down the hall when Leon’s quiet, steady voice floated to me.
“Calvin?”
I half turned, looking at him over my shoulder. “Yes, sir?”
“Remember that, as one of the top officers in this company, you’re invited to tomorrow’s vote as a courtesy. But as my wife said, you are replaceable, and if you cause any problems, I will see to it that your office is packed before you can even exit the conference room.”
And with that threat hanging over my head, I simply nodded and continued on my way.
When I arrived at the conference room the next morning, cameras and reporters from local news stations and publications lined the walls. This was a momentous occasion, not only for this family but for the area at large. The passing of the mantle only happened once a lifetime for some people who lived here, and as the winery was the largest enterprise in Apple Blossom Bay—hell, the entirety of Old Mission—today’s vote was, naturally, a newsworthy human interest story.
The Delatou family was already seated at the table—Leon at its head, Lena to his left, Chloe to his right, the other four daughters spread equally down both sides after them. The remaining seven chairs at the opposite end of the table remained empty. As I had every time I entered this room, I wondered why they’d purchased such a large table if no one outside the family was ever allowed to own stock in the company.
Trust me, I’d looked into it. I wasn’t exactly a legal whiz, but I’d studied enough contracts in my day to recognize when no loophole to the bylaws existed, and the bylaws specifically stated—in ironclad legalese—that no one without Delatou blood was able to purchase stock unless by unanimous vote. In over a hundred years of this winery’s operation, no such thing had ever happened.
At its core, this was a family business, and the Delatous took that seriously. As Lena had reminded me the evening before, I was nothing but an outsider, a fly on the wall, tasked with making sure this company didn’t tank by keeping a close eye on their finances. They could bring in anyone off the street to do that. Lately, I’d been desperately searching for a way to make myself indispensable.
I took up a spot near the door, almost directly behind Amara’s chair. As though she sensed me standing there, a slight turn of her head had her looking over her shoulder at me, that golden gaze fiery and practically boring holes in my skin. I offered her a crooked smile and a little finger wave, satisfied when she looked away from me with a huff.
Beyond the windows, snow blanketed the fields of vineyards, the vines themselves brittle and brown, a skeletal representation of their warm weather verdancy. It was New Year’s Eve, and the winter wind whipped and shrilled against the stone exterior of the building we stood in.
New Year’s Eve…a day for shaking off the old and ushering in the new.
A new era that would surely mean the end of this company as we knew it.
God, this was going to be a shit show.
Leon rose from his seat at the head of the table, and all chatter in the room died off, leaving fraught silence in its wake. The air hummed with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but it was obvious this was a big moment for this family.
“We all know why we’re here,” he said without preamble, then dropped his hands to the table and pushed a stack of papers to his right, placing them in front of Chloe. “This is an agreement officially relinquishing your right to be named CEO of this company, as well as any heir you may produce. If this is what you desire, simply initial at the tabs and sign on page four.”
I knew the man loved his daughters and was warm by nature, but within these walls, he was all business. Brusque, even, as he told his eldest daughter what she needed to do.
Leon was one of the most impressive and successful businessmen I’d ever had the pleasure of working with, which is why this whole mess was so surreal to me. He wasn’t blind, and after nearly forty years, he knew what it took to keep this company solvent. So why was he turning a blind eye to all of the flaws his replacement presented? Daughter or not, he had to realize appointing Amara was a horrible idea. An idea that would more than likely sink this company in her first year.
As Chloe began inking her initials and name onto the agreement, officially signing away her legacy, I bit my tongue so hard to keep from protesting that the taste of metal coated my mouth. My chest tightened as I watched the best shot this company had give it all away.
“And now what we’ve all been waiting for. I, Leon Delatou, as president and CEO of Delatou, Incorporated, and owner and operator of the Chateau Delatou winery, do officially nominate Amara Danae Delatou as my successor, a transition that will happen immediately. All those in favor, please raise your right hand.” Before he’d even finished speaking, Leon raised his own.
Six hands rose into the air in unison as the six Delatou women—yes, Amara even voted for herself—officially agreed to pass the mantle to the second oldest daughter.
My heart stopped dead in my chest. There was no coming back from this now, and I watched in mute horror as Leon slid the agreement to his wife, who signed and passed it down. The last in line, Chloe, signed with a flourish and a wink at her sister. I couldn’t see Amara’s expression from this vantage point, but I knew a smile adorned her face.
The reporters politely clapped when the company attorney stepped forward and notarized the documents. I wanted to throw up, and was seconds away from leaving the room to drag some fresh air into my lungs when Leon spoke again.
“Now that that’s settled, it’s time to restructure.”
Restructure?Isn’t that what they just did?
“As the new president and CEO,” he said to Amara, “it’s only fair that you hold majority share in the company.”
I blinked in surprise. It made sense, but I also hadn’t expected this to happen in front of the reporters. This was a conversation that should’ve been held behind closed doors. I had no idea who owned what currently, or what a Delatou, Inc. stock was even worth, only that Leon held the bulk of the company’s thousand shares. Leon had something up his sleeve, and all thoughts of exiting the room were forgotten as my interest and confusion piqued.
“I’ve had the attorneys draft a proposed stock redistribution, and I think you’ll all find it to your liking.”
He passed a piece of paper to each of the Delatou women, and I resisted the urge to move to the table and read it over Amara’s shoulder. I’d find out soon enough.
A gasp sounded from the end of the row on the far side, and my gaze latched onto the youngest sister, Brie.
