Not Strictly Business!: Prodigal Son / The Boss and Miss Baxter / The Baby Deal. Victoria Pade
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“That you believe she’s a good person. You’re right, I haven’t spent much time with her. I don’t know the woman at all. Maybe she’s nothing I’ve imagined.”
Just like that? She studied him, looking for some hint that he was toying with her, but she couldn’t find it. And to use his own words, she’d known him pretty well back in grad school and he hadn’t been a liar, either. A little rigid maybe, but that was hardly a crime. Not that he’d done anything to admit he might be wrong in this case.
“Okay, then,” she said. “That’s good.”
“So we’re not fighting anymore?” he asked.
“I guess not.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I have a lot of energy floating around inside of me,” she admitted. “I’m not sure how to burn it off.”
The second she said the words, his body stiffened. Tension filled the room and it had nothing to do with them not getting along. Every inch of her became aware of every inch of him and some of those inches were especially appealing.
Her mind screamed for her to run as far and as fast as she could. Her body begged her to stay and take advantage of the situation.
He broke the spell by glancing at his watch. “I have to prepare for the board meeting tomorrow.”
“Is everyone flying in for it?” she asked.
“Most. A couple will tap in by phone. It’s not going to be pretty.”
She couldn’t begin to imagine how that conversation would go. “I checked the papers this morning. There wasn’t a leak.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t expect there to be. As of eight last night, only you and I knew.”
“Oh.” She’d assumed there were more people in the loop. “I didn’t say anything to anyone.”
“I knew you wouldn’t.”
With that, he excused himself and left. Samantha sank back in her chair and waited for the ache inside to fade.
What was it about Jack that got to her? He was everything she didn’t like in a man—well-off, controlling, powerful. And yet he’d just said he was wrong about Helen. In all the years they’d been married, Vance had never once made a mistake—at least in his mind. Certainly not one he would admit to. So in that respect the two men were different.
But it wasn’t enough, she thought. And she couldn’t take a chance on making another mistake like the last one. If she did, the next one could kill her.
Three of the board members lived in the Chicago area. Two flew in and two would be on speakerphone. Mrs. Wycliff arranged for coffee and sandwiches, but Jack doubted anyone would be in the mood to eat. Not when the news was this bad.
He waited until exactly eleven-thirty, then walked into the boardroom. The five people standing there turned to look at him.
He knew a couple by sight, having met them at various functions. The other three introduced themselves, then introduced the two who hadn’t been able to make the meeting. The chairman, a craggy man in his late sixties named Baynes, motioned for everyone to take a seat. Jack found himself sitting at one end of the long conference table, while Baynes took the other. Jack had filled each of them in by phone so now they could get right to it.
“Sorry business,” the older man said. “How did it happen?”
Everyone looked at Jack. “I have no idea,” he said. “Until you asked me to step in for my late father, I’d been busy with my law practice.”
“He never talked about the business with you? Never mentioned how things were going?”
“No.” Jack didn’t see any point in explaining he and his father had never spoken much at all, about the company or anything. He set the second set of books on the conference table. “I found these when I was cleaning out his credenza. There was a false bottom on one of the shelves. He didn’t want anyone to find them.”
He pushed the books to the center of the table. No one seemed to want to be the first to touch them. Finally Baynes motioned for them and the lone woman on the board pushed them in his general direction.
“The chief financial officer has made copies of everything,” Jack said. “She’s already running the numbers to find out where we really are. We should have some accurate information by the end of the week.”
“The auditors are going to have hell to pay,” Baynes said absently.
Jack nodded. Every publicly traded company was required by law to be audited by an independent accounting firm. Somehow George’s double books had gotten past them.
But their problems were the least of Jack’s concerns. “I’ve prepared a statement,” he said. “We’ll issue it after the board meeting.”
Several of the board members looked at each other, but no one suggested not going public. Just as well, Jack thought. He didn’t want to have to remind them of their legal or fiduciary responsibilities.
“You asked me if I knew about this,” he said. “What about all of you?”
Baynes looked at him. “What are you suggesting?”
“That you were his board. Many of you had known my father for years. He would have talked to you.”
Baynes shook his head. “George didn’t confide in anyone. This was his company. He made that clear before he went public. Things would be done his way.”
“So you just let him run the company into the ground?”
The woman, Mrs. Keen, leaned forward. “George presented us with financial reports. We had no reason to doubt their validity or his. Your father wasn’t a bad man, Jack, but clearly he was in over his head.”
That seemed to be the consensus, he thought. “Shouldn’t you, as his board, have noticed that? Shouldn’t you have made sure the man running Hanson Media Group knew what he was doing?”
“Attacking us isn’t going to solve the problem,” Baynes said firmly.
Right. Because they were all more concerned about covering their collective asses, Jack thought grimly.
“We need to present a united front,” Mrs. Keen said. “Perhaps the board should issue a statement as well.”
“Do what you’d like,” Jack told her.
“Things would go better if we could announce that you would be taking on your father’s job permanently,” Baynes said.
Jack narrowed his gaze. “I agreed to three months and that’s all. I’m not changing my mind.”
“Be reasonable,” the older man said. “This is a crisis. The company is in real danger. We have employees, stockholders. We have a responsibility to them.”
“No, you have one.”
“You’re George Hanson’s oldest son,” Mrs. Keen said. “People will look to you for leadership.”
“I’m not his only son,” he pointed out. “I have two brothers.”
Baynes dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Who are where? They don’t have the experience, the education or the temperament for this kind of work.”
Jack did his best not to lash out at them. Losing his temper would accomplish nothing. “Three months,” he said. “That’s all. In the meantime, I suggest you start looking for an interim president. Hire someone who knows what he or she is doing.”
“But—”
Jack stood. “There’s no point in having a conversation about me staying or going. I’m not changing my mind. Besides, we don’t even know