Jet Set Confessions. Maureen Child
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“Toddlers learn colors and puzzle solving with our games.”
“They can do that with a box of crayons.”
“God, you’re a hardhead.”
“First, I’m losing my mind, and now I’m just old and stubborn, is that it?” Jamison’s eyes flashed. “Well, I can tell you I’m sharper than you are if you can’t see the truth in what I’m telling you.”
Luke shoved both hands through his hair. Maybe he hadn’t really come to his grandfather’s office. Maybe he was home in bed having a nightmare. Or maybe he’d taken a sharp left turn on the way here and had somehow ended up in hell.
His grandfather had always been on the current edge of everything. This about-face had really thrown Luke. He looked at Jamison’s attitude now as not trusting Luke to take the helm of the company. As if he’d been indulging Luke and, now, was pulling the rug out from under him.
He took a deep breath, reminded himself that he loved the old man currently driving him bat-crap crazy and said, “You know what? We’re just not going to agree on this, Pop. We need to stop hammering at each other over it. It’s better if both of us just keep doing what we’re doing.”
Or at least what they had been doing the last couple of months. When Jamison first told Luke about his idea to scale back the tech division, Luke had argued until his head throbbed. He’d presented his case against the idea, which Pop had quickly dismissed. It hadn’t been the first time they’d locked horns and fought it out, but somehow that argument had felt more…final than any of the others. When it was over, Luke had taken a stand and left the company to go out on his own. If nothing else, he was going to prove to his grandfather that he had faith in his own plans. Prove that tech toys really were the wave of the future.
“That’s it? We just part ways? That’s your final word on this?”
He met his grandfather’s dark green eyes. It felt like the chasm between them was getting wider by the second. For now, Luke was going to concentrate on building his own tech toy company, Go Zone. “It is, Pop. The past can’t build the future.”
“You can’t have a future without a past,” Jamison pointed out.
“And the carousel keeps turning,” Luke muttered. “Every time we talk about this, we say the same things, and neither one of us is convinced. We’re on opposite sides of this, Pop. And there is no bridge. For me, it’s better if I stay out on my own.”
“Your grandmother cried last night. Over all of this.”
Instantly, a sharp pang of guilt stabbed Luke but, then, he thought about it. Loretta Barrett was as tough as they came. His grandfather was sneaky enough to try to use his wife to win the argument. “No, she didn’t.”
Jamison scowled. “No, she didn’t,” he admitted. “She yelled some. But she could have cried. Probably will.”
Luke blew out a breath and shook his head. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m doing what I have to do. You belong here, Luke, not running your own place.”
And honestly, Luke had thought that Barrett Toys was his place. But things had changed with Pop’s change of heart. With what felt to Luke as his lack of faith. His grandfather had always pushed him, believed in him. Trusted him. This felt like a betrayal, plain and simple. Luke’s new company was small, but he had some great designers, just out of college, filled with ideas that would shake up the toy tech business. Luke was hoping to get manufacturing up and pumping out his new line by the end of the year.
This had all started because he’d been frustrated with his grandfather—but now, Luke was committed to making this work. Jamison might be willing to turn his back on progress, but Luke was greeting it with open arms.
“This is the Barrett toy company,” Jamison reminded him. “A Barrett has been in charge since the beginning. Family, Luke. That’s what’s important.”
That’s what made all of this so much harder.
“We’re still family, Pop,” he reminded the older man—and himself at the same time. “And remember, you’ve got Cole here to run the business if you ever decide to retire.”
“Cole’s not you,” Jamison said flatly. “I love the boy, but he hasn’t got the head for the business that you do.”
“He’ll come around,” Luke said, though he didn’t really believe it. Hell, it’s why Luke had been Jamison’s choice to run the company in the first place. Cole just wasn’t interested in the day-to-day of running a business. He liked being in charge. Liked the money. But he was a delegator, not a worker.
“You always were a stubborn one,” Jamison muttered.
“Wonder where I got that,” Luke said wryly.
“Touché.” Nodding, his grandfather said, “Fine. You do what you have to do, so will I.”
Luke hated having this simmering tension between him and his grandfather. Jamison Barrett was the rock in Luke’s life. The old man had taught him how to fish, how to throw a fastball and how to tie a bow tie. He’d taught Luke everything about running a business and how to treat employees. He’d been there. Always. And now, Luke felt like he was abandoning him. But damned if he could think of a way to end it so that both of them came out winning.
“Give my love to Gran.”
He left before his grandfather could say anything else, closing the office door behind him. The company headquarters was in Foothill Ranch, California, and most of the windows looked out over palm trees, more buildings and parking lots. Still, there was a greenbelt nearby and enough sunlight pouring through the lightly tinted windows to make the whole place bright.
Jamison’s secretary, Donna, looked up from her computer screen. She was comfortably in her fifties and had been with Jamison for thirty years. “See you, Luke.”
“Yeah,” he answered, giving his grandfather’s door one last look. He didn’t like leaving the old man like this, but what choice did he have?
Still frowning to himself, he asked, “Is Cole here?”
“Yep.” Donna nodded toward a bank of offices across the room.
“Thanks.” Luke headed over to see his cousin. He gave a brisk knock, then opened the door and stuck his head in. “How’s it going?”
“Hey.” Cole looked up and smiled. Even in a suit, he looked like a typical California surfer. Tanned, fit, with sun-streaked blond hair and blue eyes, Cole Barrett was the charmer in the company. He did lunches with prospective clients and took meetings with manufacturers because he could usually smooth-talk people into just about anything. “You here to see Pop?”
“Just left him.” Luke braced one shoulder on the doorjamb and idly noted how different Cole’s office was from their grandfather’s. Smaller, of course, but that was to be expected. It was more than that, though. Cole’s desk was steel and glass, his desk chair black leather minimalist. Shelves were lined with some of the toys their company had produced over the years, but the walls were dotted with professionally done photos of his wife, Susan, and their toddler son, Oliver—skiing in Switzerland, visiting the Pyramids and aboard the family yacht. Cole had always been more interested in playing than in the work required to make the money to do the playing.
Luke dismissed it all and met his cousin’s eyes. “Wanted to warn you that he’s still not happy about me leaving.”
Cole leaned back in his desk chair and steepled his fingers. “No surprise there. You were the golden boy, destined to run Barrett Toys…”
Bitterness colored Cole’s tone, but Luke was used to that. “That’s changed.”
“Only because you left.” His cousin shook his head. “Pop is still determined to bring