by Claire Adams
Then, a knock came at my door.
“Miss Harte?”
Great. My fucking lawyer again.
“I thought I fired you,” I said.
“You did, but not before something came across my desk. Figured I’d hand you the information before I told the person on the phone that I was no longer in your employ,” he said.
“Just leave it on the coffee table along with the statement of your final bill. Your services will no longer be needed,” I said.
“Maybe you’ll reconsider when you see this,” he said.
“What is it?”
I sat up and looked at the papers he set on the desk. There were only two: a statement of intention and a notarized notice to appear in court.
“Mr. Gunn has hired a lawyer. To fight for the company, I assume. You are to appear in court next Friday,” he said.
“And you think I’m going to waltz into court with you at my side?” I asked.
“I was hoping you would come to your senses, yes,” he said.
“You can leave your final bill with me,” I said.
“Miss Harte, I really have to warn you.”
“If I have to hire a lawyer to fire you, I’m billing you for my time and the mess you’ve created. Leave me your final bill, then contact Christian’s lawyer and let them know you are no longer mine. Have him direct any calls his lawyer has to me,” I said.
“You can’t possibly go into court alone. He’ll take it all away from you,” he said.
“And that’s what he should do! This company is rightfully his!” I exclaimed. “Leave your bill, because if you walk out of here without doing it, you won’t see a cent.”
I watched as he pulled a piece of paper from his coat. I unraveled it and gawked at the amount of money I owed him, but I pulled out the company checkbook and cut him a check. I took photos of everything so he couldn’t rob me blind, then I shoved everything back at him.
“So I know you made the phone call, I’ll expect a confirmation call from Christian’s lawyer by the end of the day today. No confirmation call, no payment.”
“But, I’m holding your check,” he said.
“Which is post-dated for tomorrow. No phone call, I cancel it. And I’ll have no issues taking you to court as well,” I said.
“Fine,” he said, tucking everything into his coat, “I’ll make the phone call before I pull out of the parking lot.”
“Goodbye,” I said.
I shut the door in his face before I flopped back down onto the couch. I didn’t want the first time I saw Christian again to be in court. If he hired the right lawyer, I wouldn’t even be able to address him. But, honestly? I missed him so much. I craved him at night. I called his phone just to hear the voicemail he’d shoot me to. I’d pretend he was talking to me and I’d close my eyes, imagining he was there wrapping his arms around me.
My tears dripped silently down my face while my entire body shook.
Seeing any part of him at this point would be worth it, even if he was ripping everything away from me. But, I didn’t care. He could have it. All of it. My father’s home, his stocks, his bank accounts, his company. The one thing I really wanted, the one thing that mattered to me, was gone.
And there was nothing I could do to get him back.
I needed someone to talk to. Anyone who would listen. I grabbed my purse and I headed for my car. My phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize, and I figured it was probably Christian’s lawyer, so I sent the caller to my voicemail inbox. I needed to go see Daisy, to talk with her and get her opinion.
I was no longer thinking clearly, but I knew she would.
“Hey there, Stella,” she said before her eyes studied my body.
“Oh my shit. What the hell did you do?” she asked.
My caring, beautiful best friend. With a heart of gold and the patience of a monk. I stared at her, not even knowing how to begin telling her what I’d done.
She would’ve never done this to someone she loved.
“Stella, if you don’t talk to me I’m taking you to see a doctor. You look like hell,” she said.
“I’ve ruined everything,” I said.
“Come sit down,” she said.
“I kept banging on his door, hoping he would open. I kept banging and banging and banging. I thought that if I knocked hard enough, he would just be there. That he would just answer the door. But he wasn’t there. He didn’t go home.”
“Greyson? Are you talking about Greyson?” she asked.
“I took the company from him, Daisy,” I said, whispering.
She paused, her hands cradling mine while her eyes searched my face.
“You were banging on Christian’s door?” she asked.
“He’s so angry, and he has every right to be. The company lawyer, he found a loophole. Unclaimed stocks or some bullshit my father didn’t allocate. It defaults everything to the courts until it can get settled, and the lawyer fought to have everything handed to me. I took the company from him, Daisy. Holy shit, I took it all from him.”
Tears poured down my face as she led us over to a bench, and I could feel her peeling back the bandages as I continued to talk.
“I didn’t mean to. In the beginning, that was all I could think about. Taking the company from someone who didn’t deserve it. But, he’s good at it, Daisy. Like he was born to it. Better than I ever thought he would be. And it’s all because I taught him, and he taught me, too. How to talk better to people when put on the spot. I’d never felt so alive than when I was in meetings with him. He’s nailed every one of them, too. Every meeting we’ve had since he took over. That’s his company, Daisy. My father did the right thing, and I didn't want the lawyer to go through with it anymore. But, he did. And Christian is out as a result. And now, he’s taking me to court to fight for the company because he loves it that much. It’s his company, Daisy! And he’s fighting for it! Do you know what this means?”
“What does it mean, sweetheart?” she asked.
“It means my father was right. He was the better choice to run the company. We work better as a team, side by side. At the very least, he would run it better than I ever could. I don’t want to take the company from him anymore. But, I can’t fix it. I don’t know how to fix it, Daisy. What do I do?” I asked.
“Stella, I don’t know. I don’t know how in the world you can fix something like this except to appear in court. Maybe if you go without a lawyer or something, that might show that you’re serious about giving him the company back, but that also leaves you vulnerable to him ripping everything from you,” she said.
“He can have it,” I said, whispering. “I only want him.”
“Then, I don’t know what to tell you,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t even know what I’d do. Have you eaten?”
“I will later,” I said.
“You will now, and I’m coming with you. Do you still go to that place all the way across town?” she asked. “The restaurant with the really good chocolate pie?”
“You don’t have to take me to eat.”
“If I don’t take you, you won’t go. We’re overstaffed today, so they’ll be fine. Go get in my car.”
“Daisy.”
“Now, Stella,” she said.
And as I walked to her car and hunkered down into the passenger’s seat, I pulled down the mirror in the car and really took a look at myself. I did look bad, and I was honestly shocked I had the energy to even make it to Daisy. My stomach was growling endlessly and my eyes looked glazed over. This was just what I needed. To look like a fucking wreck in court.
I wondered if Christian would even care.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Christian
(One week later)
The courtroom felt ominous. I had gone shopping and picked out a new suit, navy blue with white pinstripes, because the other two suits I had reminded me of Stella. I paired it with a crisp white shirt and a navy tie, then special-ordered a pair of patent leather shoes
in the same navy as my suit. If I was going to appear in court and fight for this job, I was going to be presentable while doing it. I felt like I had lost my home, everything I had sunk my teeth into, and I wasn’t letting go of it easily.
I heard the double doors of the courtroom open, and I turned around to see Stella walking in. My jaw dropped when I looked at her. She appeared surprisingly haggard. Her sunken-in eyes with their dark circles contrasted against her milky white cheeks that were devoid of any rosiness whatsoever. As my eyes drifted around her presence, they stopped at her side.
She didn’t even have a lawyer with her.
It wasn’t until my lawyer jostled me that I could rip my eyes from her. I wanted to know what was going on with Stella. I wanted to know why she wasn’t taking care of herself. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and protect her. To breathe life back into her and tell her it was going to be alright.
Because she did not look alright.
“Miss Harte, are you well enough to have this proceeding?” the judge asked.
And all she did was nod.
“Mr. Gunn, you will have a chance to say your piece about the company,” the judge said.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said, standing up. “First of all, thank you for allowing us all to be here today.”
“Get on with it, Mr. Gunn,” the judge said.
“Your Honor, I understand the state of California has laws. Estate laws regarding how property should be allocated and how all property should be allocated before the estate is settled. It has also been explained to me that, while I was family, I was not blood-related, so the estate of my stepfather cannot fall to me because our DNAs don’t match.”
“You are correct,” the judge said.
“What you must understand, Your Honor, is that Charles Harte, my stepfather, was the only father I knew. He raised me from the time I was a small child. He took my mother in, loved both of us in the greatest capacity he knew, and never once called me anything to anyone except ‘his son.’ It didn’t matter to him that he wasn’t my biological father. In his eyes, I was his and solely his.”
I felt the courtroom’s eyes on me, and I couldn’t help but cast my gaze over to Stella. I wanted to see what she was doing. Was she listening? Would she even look at me?
I saw her staring at the judge intently, but whether she was listening to me or not, I couldn’t tell.
I had to take a deep breath to keep my emotions at bay.
“I have been informed that there is a 10 percent stake in the company stock-wise in Charles Harte’s name that has not been allocated to anyone. I would like to challenge that,” I said.
“With what?” the judge asked.
“When I was going through some of my stepfather’s things, I came across a file of old papers. Papers from when he first started the company. In it, there is a basic allocation of stock from the company’s initial public offering, when their stocks first hit the public to be purchased and allocated accordingly. In it, there is a 10 percent chunk of stock underneath Charles Harte’s name. But, it is specified for a purpose.”
“Let me see the piece of paper,” the judge said.
My lawyer walked up to him and handed him the document in question, signed and notarized for our court date.
“The 10 percent chunk of stock is not designated for Charles Harte, Your Honor. It was taken out in his name so he could control whether or not somebody purchased it, but look at the purpose for the stock.”
I watched the judge scan the papers before his eyes settled on the line in question, and I could see a grin beginning to form on his lips. I looked over at Stella, whose eyes were cast down in her lap.
It was like she wasn’t even trying.
“That stock was purchased for the sole purpose of charity. The stock is sitting in a portfolio somewhere, waiting to be cashed in for his charities, Your Honor. That stock is not for Charles Harte; it is only controlled by him. However, one could argue that it’s technically controlled by the company, since it wasn’t for my stepfather’s personal use. With that argument, his estate becomes settled, because that type of stock would obviously default to blood-related family to manage just like the rest of his financial estate has been. So, I am here to argue that the company be reinstated back within my control, as per Charles Harte’s last will and testament.”
I saw the judge look over the piece of paper at me with a sly grin on his face. His eyes began to crinkle, and his nose started to turn red, and I heard Stella let out a long, heavy sigh. It was like someone was clued into a secret I hadn’t figured out yet, and I was growing a bit weary of the situation.
“Your Honor, I know that giving over this company has been hard on my stepsister. Her father and she shared a bond I’ll never truly understand. But, the company flourished underneath my leadership. Charles Harte left me Harte to Heart because he saw a passion within me I had not yet discovered in myself, and he knew the only way I would find it was to throw me into it. He knew me that well, Your Honor, because I was his son. I am his son. While I was the CEO of the company, we not only obtained a lucrative new client, we were able to keep the company out of a hole Charles Harte was about to dig while increasing our bottom line and finding a way to help more of the people Mr. Harte wanted to in the first place. I am good for the company, and the company has been good for me. But, I cannot do it without Stella. Had it not been for her, I never would’ve learned how to fit a suit, or conduct a professional meeting, or even earn the respect of the employees. It worked when I was the CEO, and she was the VP, but it doesn’t work if she’s not there. Period.”
“So, what do you expect me to do? Hand the company over to you and force her to work there? I can’t legally do that,” the judge asked.
“No, Your Honor, and I know you can’t. I am hoping you will agree with me and give me back a company that has opened its arms to me. The rest falls on my shoulders and my shoulders alone. If anything, this was what my stepfather wanted in the first place, for me to run the company. What we had to figure out on our own was the fact that Stella and I could work together as a team. He knew she would never give me a position at the company with the way our relationship was before he passed, so he passed the company to me to create the tension necessary to bring us together. That was his plan, and it was a hell of a good one.”
“Watch your language in my courtroom, Mr. Gunn,” the judge warned.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor.”
“But, you are right. It is a hell of a plan,” the judge said, winking. “Miss Harte, do you have anything to say?”
I looked over at her and saw tears threatening to pour down her face. Her hands were trembling in her lap, and she looked as if she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
What was wrong with my Stella?
“May I, uh, go to the restroom quickly, Your Honor? I didn’t want to interrupt Mr. Gunn during his impassioned speech.”
I saw the pity drip in the judge’s eyes before he granted her the opportunity. She flew from her chair, straightening out her clothes while she fled through the doors of the courtroom. Stella was hurting. She was in emotional pain that was causing her physical distress, and it appeared she wasn’t getting any sleep. Maybe I had done the wrong thing. Should I go running after her? Maybe I should’ve talked to her instead of running away from her the way I did. I should’ve gone to check up on her. Why didn’t I call her? I should’ve stopped by the company to see how she was doing, no matter how much it hurt to be there.
And that’s when I realized something.
The protectiveness and the anger. The betrayal and the hatred. The loss of a compass and the lack of purpose. These were all things Stella felt when she heard the company was to be handed over to me.
This was how Stella felt during the days she was conversing with her lawyer about all this.
I wanted to run after her. To scoop her up into my arms and tell her that I understood. That I got it. That I finally understand how she felt wh
en the company she had called home for years had been ripped from her. I wanted to kiss her hands and ask her what happened. I wanted to take her to her doctor’s appointments and make sure they were going to heal alright. I wanted to help her with her pain medication and wipe the tears falling from her cheeks.
But instead of allowing myself to careen out of control, I simply stayed seated.
“I can’t do this to her,” I said.
“What?” my lawyer asked.
“I’m sorry. You’ll be billed accordingly, but I can’t do this to her.”
“Mr. Gunn, wait.”
“Your Honor?” I asked.
“Yes, Mr. Gunn?”
“I can’t do this,” I said.
“You can’t do what, Mr. Gunn?” he asked.
“I can’t take this company from her.”
“You are not taking anything from anyone. I am siding with your argument. That stock is technically allocated properly, save for some paperwork that needs to be processed, so we can execute Charles Harte’s will. The company is yours. I am only waiting to give Miss Harte a chance to say her peace,” he said.
“I am wasting everyone’s time. Stella deserves this company, Your Honor. She has trained her entire life for it. Her education, the jobs she has taken over the years, being a paramedic and sitting at her father’s side as a child watching him do paperwork on his laptop. She breathes this company. She was grooming herself for it.”
“Mr. Gunn, it states right here in the will-”
“I know what it says, Your Honor. But, I’m no longer willing to execute my stepfather’s will. Stella Harte lives and breathes her father’s company, and it’s only fair that she gets it.”
“No.”
Every single one of us whipped our heads around to look at Stella as she stood in the doorway of the courtroom. Her back was tall, her tears were gone, and even though her eyes were dark and sunken in, I could see a flicker of the same determination I’d seen for weeks at the company.