Rock Star Billionaire - Page 222

I tossed and turned all night, trying to find a way out of the will’s stipulations, but I came up with nothing. My father had made sure that I would be locked into the position of CEO for as long as it took to keep Baby Steps running. There was no way out. By the time the sun rose, I had resigned myself to the idea that I was going to have to suck it up long enough to figure some way out. The one saving grace was that I knew I was under no obligation to hide my disdain for the job. I would do it, but I wouldn't do it pleasantly.

After a quick workout, I showered and dressed for the office. My father had been a casual man when it came to dressing for the office, but I didn't think following in his footsteps would be a good way to start my tenure as CEO. I picked the most expensive suit I had and dressed as if I were heading to Wall Street.

"You're overdressed, darling," my mother said as I sat down at the breakfast table. "Your father never would have put on airs with his employees."

"May I remind you that I'm not my father?" I replied as I helped myself to eggs and toast from the sideboard. A maid placed a cup of coffee in front of me as I sat down, and in return, I offered her a quick smile of thanks.

"Don't get fresh with me, Jackson," my mother said. "I want you to do a good job and make your father proud of you."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" I said as I sipped my coffee before digging into my plate of food.

"Why are you so intent on making this such a miserable experience?" my mother asked with a note of sadness in her voice.

"I don't know, Mother," I said flippantly. "Perhaps it's because I wasn't given a choice in the matter. Now I’m forced to do something I have no desire to do in order to reclaim what's rightfully mine."

"Your father never wanted to force you to do anything, Jackson," my mother said sadly. "He just wanted you to come back to the family and be a part of it again."

"Then perhaps he should have asked me rather than doing what he has always done," I said as I stood up. "Bullies never win, you know."

"Jackson …" my mother began. I looked down at her and realized that she'd aged a great deal since my father died. It was almost as if his death had sucked the life out of her as well.

"Have a lovely day, Mother," I said coolly as I walked out the door and headed to the car. I could hear her choked sobs echoing in the empty room as I opened the front door and headed for the car.

Jimmy dropped me off at the Baby Steps building on Jay Street. It was an enormous, red-brick warehouse that occupied most of the block and housed both the merchandise and the executive offices. I sighed as I looked up at the battered brick facade and the dirty windows that lined the top edge of the building next to the roof and wondered what it would take to renovate the facility to make it look more presentable. Compared to the building next door, the Baby Steps warehouse looked like a poor cousin in shabby hand-me-downs.

I walked inside and was immediately greeted by the warehouse workers who offered their condolences and told me how glad they were that I was there to take over for my father. I swallowed the lump of bitter resentment that formed in the back of my throat, and I nodded as I thanked them for their warm welcome before heading up to the offices on the second floor.

"Mr. Yates!" Norma Tatz called as I walked through the door. "It's so good to see you! My, don't you look like a biscuit covered in honey this morning!"

"Good morning, Ms. Tatz," I nodded as I walked past her desk.

"Oh honey, you don't need to be so formal with me," she said in her cheerful Southern accent. "Now that you're the boss, why don't you just call me Norma and get on with it?"

Norma was originally from St. Charles Parish just outside of New Orleans, and she always threw out some Southern-flavored observation. She was a short, compact woman who looked like she had been built to withstand a hurricane, both in body and in hair. She meticulously maintained her personal appearance through the heavy use of hairspray and cosmetics, the smell of which entered a room long before she did. She was cheerful, but tough, since she had always been the boundary between my father and everyone who wanted a few minutes of his time. As a child, she had intimidated me, but as an adult, I could see how useful her honeyed tone and iron will could be.

"All right, Norma," I said as I dredged up a smile and tried to make it look like I was happy to be there. If I was going to survive this tenure at Baby Steps, I was definitely going to need Norma on my side. "I'd like to look at the financials for the past five years and then find out what projects my father was planning for the next year."

"It's all on your desk, darlin'," Norma chirped. "I was fixin' to get the ten year financials, but then thought that might be overdoing it."

"Thank you, Norma," I said, bowing my head slightly as I turned toward the office. On the desk, in neat stacks, were all the documents I'd asked for and then some. Norma had thought ahead and given me everything that she thought I might need in order to understand the business, and as the morning wore on, she continued to add to the piles.

By lunchtime, I'd read through most of what she'd given me and had a pretty clear understanding of where the company had been and where it was headed. My father had been an exceptional businessman and had entrusted a great deal of the day-to-day operations to the woman who ran the warehouse. It became obvious to me that if I was going to truly understand what was going on, I would have to work closely with her until I was up to speed.

"Norma!" I called from behind my desk. "Can you get Leah Walsh up here to talk about the warehouse?"

"She'll be here in ten minutes, darlin'!" Norma called back as the phone rang, and she answered it. I could hear her talking with someone she obviously knew well, as she tossed in a few "Sure thing, sugars" before hanging up.

At that moment, I realized that if I played my cards right, I might not have to do a whole lot of work. If my father had trained and entrusted all of his employees the way he'd done with Norma, then this company might just be able to run itself while I functioned as a figurehead, at least until we found a suitable CEO. I smiled as I plotted the ways in which I'd be able to escape the office for a few rounds of golf and have some leisurely lunches with a few of the beautiful New York socialites I'd met on my travels.

"This might not be as bad as I thought it would be," I murmured to myself. "I can manage this."

"Hopefully I can make it a little easier for you, Mr. Yates," Leah Walsh said as she entered my office.

I looked up and saw the pretty little blue-eyed girl I'd kissed at my father's wake standing in the doorway holding a clipboard and offering a warm smile. I had no idea how old she was, but I guessed her to be midway to thirty. At the wake her hair had been pulled up into a severe ponytail. But now the long dark waves framed her face and with the splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks, she looked even prettier than I had remembered. Her face looked friendly, but her body knocked

it out of the park. Unlike most of the women I'd met on my travels, Leah was shorter and much curvier. I could see the outline of her figure under her warehouse uniform and it quickly reminded me of the few moments I'd held her soft body against my own. I quickly shifted my gaze back to her face as she crossed the room,

"I'm Leah Walsh," she said as she held her hand out.

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