The Gatekeeper's Son (30 page)

“I don’t give a damn about some office tower!”

“It could take the whole company down with it.” Mark joined my dad at the window and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. This is a tough time for everyone, but your father spent ten years on the Bayview project. We can’t let him down.”

“Right.” Dad didn’t sound convinced, but he sat back down. One of the lawyers slid a stack of papers in front of him.

Mark sat down across from me as Dad started signing. “I’m sorry about all this, James,” he said.

“So why am I here, Mr. Smith?”

“Call me Mark, OK?” He tapped the table with his pen. “The Chairman’s legal papers reiterate what he announced on your birthday: you’re the sole heir to the Thompson Group. And I know he expected you to help with the company, even if still underage—”

Dad slapped his pen down. “That’s crazy!”

I glanced at Mark. He looked like he was about to say something but just shrugged.

After what I’d said to Grandpa, did he still want me to be here? I opened my mind and listened to the stream. I felt a gentle wash of reassurance.

“It’s OK, Dad.” I smiled. “Grandpa’s been preparing me for this my whole life—and besides, Mark’s still the boss.”

“Actually …” Mark cleared his throat. “That’s a little unclear at the moment. Walter’s been throwing his weight around.”

My stomach sank.

Mark held his breath for a moment. “I work
with
Walter but not
for
him,” he said, “so if Edward doesn’t … if he doesn’t come back to work … I’ll resign. I can’t stand by and watch Walter destroy everything your grandfather built.”

I shook my head. “That’s not going to happen—”

“Just work it out,” Dad said. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

Just then, Walter Roacks walked in, his smile as thin as the pinstripes on his suit. “I know this is quite a burden your father dumped on you, Robert.”

Dad nodded. “I’ve never wanted this—ever.”

Walter smiled, but it looked like a grimace. “I understand that more than
some
do.” He shot a sideways glance at Mark. “Fortunately, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

There it was—that tingling in the back of my neck. I sat up straight.

“Really?” my dad said, looking relieved. “I just don’t have time to go to Brussels.”

“Robert,” Mark said, “what Walter’s suggesting is practical, but it’s contrary to your father’s wishes.”

Dad glared at Mark. “Maybe I’m a little tired of hearing about my father’s wishes.”

There was a brief, tense silence.

Walter nodded at one of the lawyers, who stood and handed my dad a single sheet of paper. Walter held out a pen. “All you need to do is sign right here.”

As my dad’s hand hovered over the page, I watched Walter. I remembered the night at the restaurant when Lin and I had seen Walter with Mr. Müller—who worked for Bartholomew.

All of a sudden I realized this was way bigger than Walter Roacks’s wanting control of the company.

“Do it.” Walter said it quietly. “Then you’re free of this. You can go back to your woodworking, your wife.”

“Do you even know what you’re signing?” Mark said. “You should at least get legal counsel—”

“These men are company lawyers, Mr. Smith!” Walter said. “I think we can trust them.”

I tapped the tabletop with my pen and cleared my throat. To my surprise, everyone turned.

“Actually,” I said, “I haven’t heard any advice from them at all. What does that paper do?” I directed my question at the lawyers. “Does it affect ownership?”

The oldest of the three straightened his tie. “It doesn’t affect ownership
per se
, but it does move all financial control into Mr. Roacks’s hands—”

“You’re signing the goddamn company over to him!” Mark shouted.

Walter spun toward Mark. “Did you tell them you plan to resign if you aren’t in control?”

Mark glared. “It’s not like that.”

Walter looked at my dad. “I need freedom to operate until Edward returns. There’s no harm here. Edward’s still the owner. Nothing can change that.”

“Unless Edward doesn’t come back.” Mark stood up. “Who’s in control then?”

Walter ignored him. “If your father dies—God forbid—do you want to run this company, Robert?”

“You can have it all, as far as I’m concerned.”

Walter smiled. “Well, in that case—”

“No!” I stood so fast my chair toppled backward. I turned to my dad. “This company’s not yours to give away!” Then I pointed at Walter. “And it’s not yours to take!”

Dad stared at me and slowly put the pen down.

I turned to the lawyers. “My father will sign the original power-of-attorney papers, but that’s all. And I want you to draw up a document giving me, under the supervision of my father, the authority to sign on his behalf.”

The room was dead silent. Mark’s eyes were wide, but Walter looked like he was about to choke on something.

“I thought you didn’t want this,” Dad said.

“I changed my mind.”

He studied me for a long moment. “It always scared me how much like my father you were. If you really want this, … just tell me what to sign and I’ll do it.”

I nodded and turned to Mark. “I need you here to run things, both now and in the future. I can’t have you quitting on me now.” I paused. “And you’re both going to Brussels to get that money.”

Both Mark and my dad looked surprised, but they nodded. I wished I could be sure they agreed of their own free will.

“You’re fools!” Walter yelled. “I’m doing everything I can to keep this company afloat and you’re signing its death warrant.”

“Nothing has changed.” I said, meeting his gaze. “It’s exactly the same as if the Chairman were here, right?” Then I leaned toward him across the table and gave him my best stare—the one Okaasan reserved for when I was really in trouble. “And incidentally, I’m not impressed by how
afloat
you’re keeping us.”

“What?” Walter’s eyes widened.

“I want you to understand this clearly. Mark is your boss, and from now on you don’t do
anything
without his approval.”

Looking as if he might implode, Walter stormed from the room and slammed the door behind him.

“How was that?” I asked Mark.

He managed a half-smile. “He still holds the purse strings.”

“Then we’d better do something to change that.” I turned to the three lawyers. “Fix this, and remember who you work for. As of now, this company is mine.”

I left Dad in the conference room with Mark and the lawyers. I felt like I might throw up. I didn’t want the goddamn company, but if Walter Roacks had something to do with Bartholomew, I couldn’t just hand it over to him.

After I made two phone calls, I headed toward Grandpa’s office, hoping to have a moment of peace, maybe sit in his big chair and absorb some of his energy—and some clue to what the hell I should do next.

Lin was at her desk outside the Chairman’s office.

“Hi, Lin.”

She wiped her nose with a tissue and tossed it onto the pile in her wastebasket.

“Hello, Junya.” She was back in her usual high heels and business suit, but her makeup couldn’t hide the state she was in.

I pointed toward the office. “I’m going in here for a bit. Will you come, please?”

She looked down as if examining her French manicure. “If that’s what you want.”

I didn’t sit in his chair. Instead, I sank onto the leather sofa. Lin sat in the stiff-backed leather chair across from me, her knees clamped tight together, her hands folded on her lap. It felt odd being here with her like this, like some crazy role-reversal had occurred.

“I’m sorry about what you’ve had to go through …” My words dropped away, meaningless, because I had no idea what she’d gone through.

She gave me a strained smile. “I’m sorry, too. I know how much you care for him.”

There—why hadn’t I said something like that?

“Was there any more trouble after I left for Japan?”

She looked up. “Like what?”

“Where do I start? The company’s going broke, Grandpa’s bodyguards tried to kill me, and let’s not forget about Walter and Mr. Müller.”

It took a while for her to answer. “The Chairman’s been worried about Walter, but … he’s changed.” She stared at the floor. “He doesn’t trust anyone. I think that’s why he got so upset with me that night.”

“What did you do?”

The eyes that met mine were less friendly than they’d been a minute ago. “It’s what
you
did. You opened his safe, betrayed his trust, then you destroyed him with your words.” She glared. “It’s like the fire inside him went out that night.”

I closed my eyes, but I’d rather have closed my ears. Her words felt like a kick in the gut and my anger rose, faster than before—always coming faster now. For a moment, I wanted to hurt her, but the wave of anguish I felt from her ended that.

“He was under so much stress that night, more than usual,” she said, her tone no longer accusing. “Something about missing accounting files—dozens of boxes had vanished. When he refused to talk to me, I went outside to get some air.” She sucked in a breath. “A while later, he came to find me.” She was struggling to speak. “He found me in Sugimoto-san’s workshop … We were only talking, but maybe we looked suspicious. Edward looked so—so betrayed.”

“Why were you with Mr. Sugimoto?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s nice to talk with someone familiar, you know? Someone who understands how lonely it can be when you’ve left everything you know far away.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, but there was something bothering me, some thought trying to surface in my mind. I looked back up to find her staring at me.

“You’re different since you got back,” she said. “The way you look, talk, even the way you move.”

I gave her a half-smile. “It was quite the trip.” Then I stood and walked over to her. “May I see your hands?”

She looked up at me, confused, but she held them out. I took them in mine and turned them over, examining them. They were slender and beautiful, manicured and pampered, not worn by hard physical training like Okaasan’s.

Lin giggled, but it had a nervous edge. “Are you a palm-reader now?”

I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t—there was so much energy flowing between us I could barely stay upright. She looked up and our eyes met. I dropped her hands.

“I don’t know your last name,” I said.

“Sota.”

Her dark eyes followed me as I backed away. She was about to say something when her phone rang, startling us both. She ran to her desk and pounced on the phone. Her eyes came to rest on me as she listened to the caller. A moment later she hung up.

“That was Mr. Barrymore. He’s assembled all the security teams, as you requested.” She cocked her head and frowned, her right index finger tapping the desktop. “What’re you up to?”

I grinned. “I’m going to kick some ass.”

She gave me a little smile, amused, maybe even impressed, but I couldn’t go yet. I stood in front of her desk and stared at her, feeling her energy.

“What?” she said.

“Are you in love with Edward?”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your damn business!”

I walked to the elevator and punched the “down” button. I winked at her as the doors slid open.

Her eyes went wide.

I stepped backward into the elevator, twirling a pen I’d stolen from her desk.

“I’m sorry, Lin, but I’ve gotta know—” I flicked the pen toward her, low and hard, like a throwing star.

She snatched it out of the air as it sailed past while her other hand reached up and pulled a long thin pin from her hair.

“Nice catch, kunoichi.” I took in a deep breath. “Sorry. That was mean.” My voice was somber now. “I’m really happy Grandpa has someone that loves him, especially now.” I managed a smile. “Please, go to the hospital. Protect him.”

Her face and energy betrayed everything she was feeling. “But—”

“Go to Edward. That’s an order.”

The doors slid closed.

CHAPTER

29

The security briefing room, nicknamed the Bunker, was in the basement of the Thompson Building. When I walked in, about five dozen tough-looking men and women faced me, some sitting, others leaning against the walls.