I am so screwed.
Daddy, why did you leave me?
No.
No. I wasn’t screwed because I was a strong woman just like my mother and father raised me to be. I didn’t take shit from anyone. I was going to kick ass at this.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
“Your father always believed you were ready to take over. There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where he didn’t say to me, ‘Marge, my Charleston is going to take this company even further than it is now. She not only has the brains, but the guts to do it.’”
My mouth lifted at the corners. “He said that to me all the time. Of course, I thought I was going to have a bit more time to take on the role.” I didn’t like how shaky my voice sounded. This wasn’t me.
Weak. Lonely. Scared.
Over the last few days, thoughts of Tucker entered my mind every now and then as I fell into a lonely pit. I’d pushed them—along with him—to the back of my mind, but the pain was certainly still there. Even after so many years, I thought about the “what-ifs” and “what could’ve beens” that were possible between us. Instead, here I was, about to walk into a boardroom full of old-timers, and they all expected me to wear the crown of ownership with pride and aplomb. On the inside I was crumbling from all the emotions that were overwhelming me. I could do this. I didn’t have a choice as I looked to Marge for silent encouragement.
Marge gave me a smile that made my chest feel warm.
This was not the woman my parents raised me to be. I needed to snap out of it and walk into that boardroom like I owned it. Well, hell … I did own it.
After a few seconds of deep breaths, I finally said, “Come on, Marge, let’s go show these assholes who’s boss.”
Her smile faltered a bit as her mouth dropped open slightly before she said, “Okay, well, first thing worth mentioning, let’s keep the swearing to a minimum.”
Oh. Shit.
“Right. No swearing. But we’re going to kick ass in there.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my. I’m going to have to get used to your … expanded vocabulary.”
Note to self: Don’t swear in front of Marge.
FIRST, I MET with the lawyer. Alone. After twenty minutes of Mr. Knots telling me everything my father wanted done with certain possessions, he handed me two letters.
My heart dropped when I saw it was my mother and father’s handwriting. “What are these?”
“Letters your parents wrote to you. They asked for them to be given to you if anything was to ever happen to them. I was to hand them over to you after the funeral, and they requested you read them when you were alone.”
I barely acknowledged his request. With a racing heart, I ran my fingers over my name on each letter.
Why did you leave me?
My father’s personal lawyer got up and left the room, leaving the lawyer from CMI in his stead.
“Your father was the CEO and chairman of the board; that responsibility now falls on you.” He cleared his throat and moved about in his seat like he was nervous.
Placing the letters on the table, I dropped my hands to my lap and began wringing them. Did he think I was going to tank the company? He sure was looking at me like the sky was about to fall.
Shit.
I was going to do my father proud. My mind was filled with ideas on where to expand the company. We were already in aerospace and defense, energy power, telecom, media, and technology, as well as financial institutions. My idea was to expand to environmental, health care and life science, and agriculture. Daddy laughed when I mentioned the last one, but I knew it was an industry we needed to get into. I was going to get this company caught up with the times. Not that my father lacked in that department, but it was time to shake things up. Expansion was something my father was leery of. It was a good thing I wasn’t. It meant more profit for the company as a whole, and that would make for happy employees.
Marge got up and opened the side door that led to the smaller conference room. The board members all filed in. Jesus, they’re all so damn old. How am I just now realizing this?
Paul Ricker, executive vice president and chief financial officer, sat and cleared his throat. “Ms. Monroe, how are you doing?”
Squaring off my shoulders, I gave a slight grin. “I’m doing as well as to be expected, I guess you could say.”