DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) (95 page)

“What do you mean, trust fund? And conservator?”

Mr. Philips looked a little confused as he studied my face. “It was my client’s understanding that you are deeply concerned about the future of the employees of Berryman Construction. This is simply his attempt to satisfy those concerns.”

“But doesn’t the purchase price of a company like this one usually go to the person who owns the largest shares in the company?”

“The monies can go wherever the seller and purchaser wish for it to go.”

I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest, my curiosity as to who this
client
was growing by the second.

“Your position as chief operating officer for Berryman Construction will continue as it has been since you joined the company. You will be given access to an account immediately upon signing this contract that will allow you to pay off all monies owed to suppliers, employees, and anyone else waiting for their money from this company. You will then be expected to aid in searching out new contracts and adding employees to handle the added business.”

I inclined my head slightly. “That was usually the CEO’s job.”

“You will be working closely with the CEO over the next six months. My client is new to the construction business and he would like for you to show him the ropes, as they say.”

“Has your client ever worked in construction?”

“Yes, but it was many years ago.” Mr. Philips slid a piece of paper across the table to me. “If you could review that and sign it, we could move on.”

The paper basically outlined everything he’d just told me. I signed it, wondering if I was doing the smart thing, or if I was getting myself into a situation I couldn’t control.

When I pushed the paper back across to him, Mr. Philips handed me another.

“This basically just states that you agree to the financial arrangements for the sale and that you will not attempt to use your ownership shares in the company to arrange a better deal in the duration of your six-month contract.”

I signed that one, too, again wondering what the hell I was getting into. And why this client was being so cautious.

“This is your actual contract,” he said, handing me a rather thick packet of papers. “You will note that it actually states within the body of the contract that no employees will be let go without your consent while this contract is in force. Again, my client will be looking to you to help him learn the ropes of running such a company.”

“If he knows so little about running a construction company, why is he interested in buying this one?”

Mr. Philips sighed. “I asked him the same question. He was in another line of business and insists that he wants to try something new. I’ve warned him, but he tends to be a little stubborn.”

“And if he runs the company into the ground?”

Mr. Philips reached over and turned over several pages of the contract, tapping his finger against one particular paragraph. It read:

If the company should fall into worsening debt or should show signs of failure within the six-month period of this contract, Addison Berryman shall have the right to end this contract. She will still be entitled to the money held in escrow, but she will forfeit the right to prevent firings of the staff.

“So if he runs the company into the ground, this client of yours, the deal is null and void.”

“And you both lose something. He’ll lose the millions he put into the company, and you allow your employees to be thrown out into the street.” Mr. Philips looked at me for a long second. “I think you both have something to lose if you can’t make this company work. Together.”

“What if I want out of the contract before it expires?”

“Again, you will forfeit the right to protect your employees. And if you terminate this contract early for any reason other than a mutual, unpreventable failure of the company, you forfeit all the money you would have made in the sale.”

The money didn’t matter. But, again, the idea of all those people out on the street gave me nightmares.

“When do I get to meet your client?”

Mr. Philips waved his hand at the contract I was looking over. “The moment you sign that.”

“He’s here?”

“He’s nearby.”

“This is all very clandestine,” I said as I focused on the contract again.

There was a lot to it. The language was dense, making it difficult to get through. But I’d read many contracts like this one since coming to work at Berryman Construction. And I kept coming back to the one thing that I couldn’t get past. This wasn’t about me. It was about the employees.

I could put up with six months working with a stranger who would be more like a student than a leader if it meant protecting the people I grew up around. It might even be fun. I could implement all the new ideas I’d come into the business with that my father had never listened to. This guy…if he didn’t know what he was doing, he wouldn’t have the same objections my father had. Maybe for the next six months I could run this place the way I always wanted to.

I signed the bottom of the contract with something of a flourish. Why the hell not? I could still travel when this was all said and done.

I handed the contract back to Mr. Philips, who signed it, as well, and then slid it into his folder.

“Is that it?”

“I’m just texting my client to let him know the deal is done.”

“What about my dad? Doesn’t he need to sign something?”

“He did.”

Mr. Philips set another contract in front of me. It was, quite literally, the contract that sold my dad’s company. I picked it up and began to read through it, skimming over parts that were too full of legalese and reading the other stuff that seemed a little more interesting. And then I got to the section that talked money.

Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That’s how much my father was walking away with from the sale.

“Why this amount?” I asked, my finger touching the words like they would come to life under my flesh. “Why isn’t my father getting more of what he’s owed? He should be walking away with close to thirty-seven million dollars.”

I looked up, but Mr. Philips was gone.

“I felt like that was all he was owed in the deal. And he, apparently, agreed.”

I turned and my heart dropped to my feet.

Grant was leaning against the wall, watching me from just inside the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Addison? I came back for you.”

I stood up, backing away from him as though I thought he meant me harm. But he hadn’t moved.

“I bought your father’s company. I knew you wouldn’t just welcome me back with open arms, so I thought…” He stood straighter then, spreading his fingers as he gestured around the room. “I thought I’d put you in a situation where you couldn’t walk away. And maybe then you would figure out that I was never the bad guy. I was just the guy in a bad situation.”

My knees were weak. I felt like I was going to fall over. I grabbed the edge of the table and I could see him come toward me in something of a rush. I put up my hand to stop him. I wasn’t sure I could handle him touching me right now.

“You knew you were doing this the other day when we were…” I stopped because just the memory of that afternoon was almost too much.

“I did.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

He didn’t answer right away. In fact, the silence hung so heavy in the room that I finally had to look up, had to look him in the eye. And that was probably the hardest thing I’d done in a long time.

“I heard about the trouble the company was having.”

“When?”

“And I wanted to make things right between us.”

“So you charge into my life and turn everything upside down?”

I pushed away from the table, my knees barely strong enough to hold me up, and walked to the windows. I needed air and this was the closest I was going to get. I stood by the windows and stared out at the city below us. Nothing made sense to me right now. Seeing this familiar sight, the buildings on the landscape that my father built, pulled things back into perspective a little.

“We can work together to make this company the great company it once was,” Grant said. “We can make sure that everyone, especially Billy, continues to have an income for as long as they want.”

“Why did you insist that I stay?”

“Why do you think?”

The idea of running Berryman Construction with Grant had once been a dream. It was what I’d wanted when we talked about a future together. We’d run away to California for a while, but then we’d come back and we’d take over the company, take it into the next generation while my dad went off to some luxury retirement spot. That was the way it was supposed to be. But this? This was not what I dreamt of.

“Are you serious about saving the company?”

“Of course I am.”

“This isn’t just about us?”

“It’s about a lot of things, Addison. You are definitely a big part of that. But there’s also the fact that this company gave me a chance when no one else was willing to hire me. I want to see it succeed as much as you do.”

“I doubt that.”

I turned again, my eyes moving slowly over him. When I met Grant, he was covered in drywall dust and joint compound. He was in jeans and an old T-shirt that had as many stains on it as his hands. Now he was in a suit that looked tailored, his hair slightly shorter and well combed. He was a different man. I knew that, but this moment just seemed to underscore that fact more than any other.

“I need time.”

He inclined his head slightly. “Take the rest of the day off. But I want to get right into it first thing Monday morning. I need to know exactly where we stand.”

I wrapped my arms around myself as though that would make me smaller as I brushed past him. He watched me, but he never made an attempt to touch me.

“Where’s my dad?” I asked with my hand on the doorknob.

“He’s been escorted from the premises.”

“Why?”

Grant didn’t answer, but I didn’t suppose I needed an answer. I left the room and walked with my head as high as I could push it through the hallways, back to my office. I leaned against the door, tears falling before I even realized I was crying.

Could my life get any more complicated?

I shouldn’t have signed those contracts. I should have just walked away. I could be on a plane to Paris right now instead of stuck in this catch-22 of a life. I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t. I couldn’t allow our employees to all be fired. But I couldn’t stay here and work day in and day out with Grant. Would he really fire everyone if I left?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to put him to the test.

I stood there a long time, my head spinning, all these thoughts chasing each other through my mind. But I kept coming back to the same conclusions. I couldn’t leave and I couldn’t stay. I was stuck.

And then my cell phone started buzzing almost nonstop. I pulled it out of my pocket and found a half dozen notifications informing me of the initialization of a trust fund, of the bank account my name had been added to, of all these things Grant’s contract had promised. Just like the lawyer said, I could sit down right now and pay off all the debts the company owed. All the money we’d been desperately scraping together to pay off contracts that were months overdue, and the money was just there now. That part of me that had been stressing over the situation, that had used some of my personal money to make things stretch, was so relieved to see this happening.

He really was serious.

I was sitting at my desk several hours later when Angela walked in. She seemed hesitant as she slowly closed the door and sort of just paused there, watching me.

“What?”

“We had a staff meeting.”

I sat back and chewed on my bottom lip. “And?” I said when she didn’t immediately continue.

“I knew the company was struggling, but…”

“Who all was at this meeting?”

“Just those of us who work on the executive floor. But they said there will be meetings and memos sent out on Monday announcing the changes to everyone with the company.”

I nodded slowly, anger building in my chest. He should have waited for me. Should have asked me how to handle…and then I realized he was in charge here now. He could do whatever he wanted.

“Are you okay? Kevin explained to me the other night that you and his brother have a history. Neither of us knew that before.”

“I know. It’s not your fault.”

“What are the chances I would get involved with the brother of the guy who bought out the company I work for?”

I sat back and regarded her for a moment. “Have you told Kevin much about what we do here? Did you tell him we were in trouble?”

Angela blushed. “I might have mentioned a few things in passing, but nothing in detail. I wouldn’t do that, Addison.”

“But you told him enough that his brother figured out we were going under.”

“No!” Her face suddenly reddened and she pushed away from the door, charging my desk. “I never would—”

“Maybe not on purpose. How could you have known?”

“Really, I didn’t say that much to Kevin. Just that I was worried about you because of the stress you were under.”

I sat back and held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t want you to think—”

“I understand, Angela. Really, I do.”

She looked absolutely devastated. I got up and went around the desk to offer a consoling pat on her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I said softly, trying to make myself believe it, too.

“He asked if you were still here. I think he wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

She handed me the file folders she’d been holding when she came in. “He also said you’d want to look at these. And he asked that you be here at seven on Monday so that you can work out the details for the employee announcement.”

I was already glancing through the paperwork she’d brought in. The first two file folders were the contracts we’d signed this morning. And then there were financial documents that I quickly realized were connected to the trust fund he’d promised. I leaned back against my desk and studied them, still confused as to why he chose to handle things this way.

“Is there anything I can do?” Angela asked.

I’d forgotten she was there.

“Why don’t you head out.”

“Really?”

I touched her arm lightly. “Go have a nice weekend, Angela. I get the impression we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

I watched her go, then buried my nose back in the paperwork. It still wasn’t making a lot of sense to me. Why was the bulk of the money placed in a trust fund? Shouldn’t it have gone to my dad? And why would my dad agree to take such a small sum? I realized the sum was symbolic to Grant, but why would my dad agree to it? It was, after all, his company. He should have been entitled to most of the money, if not all of it. My ownership in the company was inconsequential, just a bit of compensation for the lack of salary I drew as COO. I hadn’t expected much from the sale. But my dad…everyone thought he was this wonderfully wealthy man. In truth, most of his money came from my mother’s estate. All the money he’d made with Berryman Construction had always gone back into the company. I wasn’t sure that he had enough to fund a long retirement, especially after this. He was only fifty-two.

There were so many questions that I simply couldn’t get my mind around all of it.

I could feel eyes on me as I stepped out of my office and made my way down the long, maze of hallways that led to my dad’s office. I knew he wouldn’t be there, but it was still something of a shock to push through my dad’s office door and find Grant standing there.

“I thought you went home.”

“Something tells me you knew I was still here.”

He smiled even as he turned away, his concentration returning to organizing a pile of papers on my dad’s cherry-wood conference table.

“Angela says you made an announcement to the employees.”

“Just those on this floor. I felt like it was only fair, considering they were the ones packing and watching your father’s belongings going out.”

I hadn’t even noticed until that moment, but he was right. My dad’s personal things—pictures of him and me, ceramics my mother once collected, and the crystal decanter that sat on the bar—were all gone.

“Did you really have to rush him out of here?”

“The company is no longer his. It hasn’t been since he signed on the bottom line early this morning.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling as though I was rooted to the floor. “What about the other employees? How do you plan on announcing this change to them?”

“We’ve called for a sort of community meeting on Monday. All employees are required to be downstairs in the lobby at nine o’clock on Monday morning.”

“All the employees? Even the construction crews?”

“Yes.”

“That’s over four hundred people.”

“Four hundred and thirty-two.”

This really felt wrong. I turned from him and walked around the room, this place so familiar to me that it was like a part of my family. My father practically lived in this room during most of my childhood. I remember sitting on this low, leather couch, doing my homework while my father made conference calls and filled out paperwork. And that desk. I remember how I felt like a grown-up whenever I sat in that chair. This place was my father’s and he’d stolen it away.

“I was wondering if you’d be up to taking me around to the active construction sites tomorrow,” Grant said.

I turned and let my eyes move over him, so conflicted at the sight of him that a part of me wanted to absolutely refuse.

“I suppose so.”

“I’d like to see where we stand on our current projects and get them all back on schedule before we start concentrating on new projects.”

“Of course.”

“Have you gone over the financials?”

“Some of them.” I sighed, trying hard to focus on the business at hand. “I’ll need to talk to Joseph, cue him in on what’s going on.”

“Joseph?”

“Joseph Christopher. The head of accounting.”

“Of course. Do what you need to do to get us back where we need to be.” He turned toward me, setting down the handful of papers he’d been holding. “I’ll need you to personally speak to some of the less conventional suppliers.”

“Less conventional?”

“Like Burt. He still does the cabinets, correct?”

I nodded slowly. Burt was a retired cop who hand carved the cabinet doors we used in some of our projects. But we hadn’t worked with him personally in almost a year because we were unable to pay him in full for the last job he did.

“And there are others. The plumbers, the roofers. Anyone who might have cut ties when you ran into financial problems.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“If you run into any problems, feel free to inform me.”

“I’ve known most of these people all my life, Grant. I don’t think I’ll have any issues.”

He sat back against the edge of the table, studying me in that way he had. “I understand all this is difficult, Addison. We’ll find a rhythm fairly soon and it’ll be better.”

“And if I don’t want to find a rhythm?”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “You signed a six-month contract.”

“I’m aware of that. And I’ll do the best I can to help you pull the company out of the fire. But I can’t promise this will all go as smoothly as you thought it would.”

“Nothing is ever as smooth as we hope.” He smiled at me. “I already have a few potential clients lined up for possible projects. I want to have a party at my place to sort of introduce them to our new management, if you know what I mean.”

“At your place?”

His smile widened. “I realize my place lacks a bit of—”

“Furniture? Decorations?”

“Homeyness.”

“It’s not the ideal place to have a party.”

“Yes, well, I was hoping you could help with that. My assistant has already contacted several interior decorators in the area, but I thought it needed more of a personal touch. I was hoping you’d be willing to work with Rebecca on that.”

“Rebecca?”

“My assistant. You didn’t meet her when you came in?”

I shook my head, wondering why it bothered me—the idea that he had a personal assistant. I watched him move as he crossed the room and stuck his head out the door, talking to someone in those soft tones I’d always thought he saved for me. But then it had been seven years since we last knew one another. I knew in my head that there had been other women. It was my heart that didn’t want to understand that fact.

She was beautiful, this Rebecca. She had Nordic traits—the sort of blond hair that was almost white and the gorgeous bone structure that photographers go nuts over. She walked toward me, her hand outstretched, a smile on her thin but well-painted lips.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Berryman.”

If God truly made a perfect woman, it was probably this woman. She was taller than me, too, but just the right height to fit against a man like Grant and still be ultra-feminine. A part of me wanted to smack her, even though she was polite as a woman in her station could be expected to be.

“You, too,” I said, shaking her hand somewhat stiffly.

Her smile faltered just the slightest bit. Then she turned and smiled widely at Grant.

“Is there anything else, Mr. McGraw?”

“No, Rebecca. Thank you.”

He held the door for her and watched her go.

“Has she worked for you long?”

“Four years.”

“And she was willing to uproot her life to follow you to Texas?”

Grant shut the door with a definitive click of the latch and turned to regard me, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m a generous boss.”

“I’m sure you are.”

I stormed toward the door, intent on getting the hell out of there. But Grant held the door closed with the weight of his body as he stood leaning against it.

“I wasn’t finished.”

“I can’t imagine there’s much more.”

“We’re completely revamping the way the company runs and we haven’t even begun to talk about it.”

“Revamping? It sounded to me like you were perfectly content to continue with things the way they are.”

“You meant the suppliers? Of course I am. How many construction companies can offer handcrafted cabinets or specialized plumbing? I hear Manchester Construction offers heated floors in their luxury apartments, but not in their lower-end places. That’s something we can compete against with the plumbers and electricians we have on the payroll.”

“Then what revamping are you talking about?”

Grant gestured toward the table and the reams and reams of paper sitting there. “That has to go. It would save the staff hours upon hours if all the paperwork was digitized. I want everyone in this building to have a smartphone and a tablet, as well as foremen on the construction sites. There’s no excuse for sloppy or missing paperwork if it’s all uploaded to a special server at the end of the day.

“And there are so many positions here that are redundant. We could save thousands if we reduced the redundancies and cut some of the staff.”

“You said—”

“I said I wouldn’t fire anyone without your consent. But even you have to realize it would be better to let a few go in favor of using that money in other places that are in the best interest of everyone working for the company.”

I knew that. It was one thing my dad and I had argued about when I first came to work here. But it wasn’t something I was eager to discuss with Grant. Not now. Not this soon after he barged into my dad’s office and took it over.

“We have to be careful about how we go about doing something like that.”

“I know. That’s why I want you to make me a list of the employees you would be most comfortable with letting go. Those close to retirement that we can offer an early pension to. Those who just started here and have a good chance of finding something else quickly. I’m no more interested than you are in putting people out on the street who won’t be able to take care of themselves without this job.”

I wanted to believe that. I did. But it was so hard to know from day to day which Grant I was getting—the one who had a kind heart and always wanted to do the right thing, or the one who left me sitting alone in a diner because my father had paid him off.