by Claire Adams
“So, that's all this is to you? Glory?” she asked.
“No. Fuck, do you even know me at all, Daisy?” I asked. “This isn’t about glory. Not by a long shot. Though, it probably is for Christian. I get the sense he’s doing this because of something his mom said to him in her letter.”
“What did his mom say to him?” she asked.
“Don’t know. But, I get the sense that it’s fueling this little desire of his. But, we all know what happens to Christian’s desires,” I said.
“What happens to them?”
“They fizzle out and crash into the ground. I’m not allowing that to happen to my father’s company,” I said.
“Look, just be careful, alright? Christian’s an intelligent man. Much more intelligent than you give him credit for. Don’t think he doesn’t understand you’re still feeling this way,” she said.
“Well, I’m intelligent as well. I can sidestep this, position myself well in the company, and then have the paperwork ready for when I can usurp him.”
“It’s mutiny, I tell you. Mutiny!” Daisy exclaimed playfully.
“Ugh, this massage feels so good,” I said, groaning.
“So, when do you start this job?” she asked.
“Tomorrow. And I’m not looking forward to it. I’ll have to play as nice as I can while letting him implement whatever idiotic ideas he has,” I said.
“Well, you said it yourself. Get in there, make an impression, and then do what you feel you have to do. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get in there, realize you’re some sort of weird power couple, and things will blossom like you didn’t expect.”
“Whatever. I’ll feel better when I get there tomorrow and verify it hasn’t burned down yet,” I said.
“No faith. You have no faith in him whatsoever,” she said, giggling.
“Shhh, massage time,” I whispered.
After our pampering, we let our nails dry while we sipped our wine. I talked with her about the book I found at my father’s house and how it seemed to be some sort of muse for him. I talked to her about all the dimensions and diagrams that were scattered throughout its pages, and she asked me a question that I thought was very interesting.
“Why do you think that book was his muse?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I assume that’s what it is. If my father was just having ideas left and right, surely he would’ve just put them in a notebook. But, they’re all in the margins of that book,” I said.
“What’s the book called?” she asked.
“The FDA And Worldwide Quality System Requirements Guidebook for Medical Devices.”
“How absolutely thrilling,” Daisy said mockingly.
“The only thing I can think is that he was wanting to keep himself updated on basic information as he was creating products. He wrote them in the book so he could keep his ideas on the same page as the guidelines he was abiding by,” I said.
“Sounds fair enough. I was hoping for something more exotic, though.”
“You always do, Daisy. It’s why you date exotic men,” I said, smirking.
“Speaking of men we date, how’s the dickwad?”
“Daisy,” I said, sighing.
“Everyone hates Greyson, Stella. Why are you still dating him?” she asked.
“Because he’s a good man. Yes, he’s a pompous ass at times, but look at who you’re talking to.”
“You deserve better,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you more than he has during your time of grieving.”
“Not true. I saw him a couple days ago for lunch,” I said.
“Uh huh. And how did that go?” she asked.
“Just fine,” I lied.
“Alright. Well, he’s still an asshole you need to dump. You deserve love and romance and passion. Not some pompous, arrogant man-child who has to always assert his intelligence just to stroke his own ego,” she said.
“Don’t worry, he strokes my ego, too,” I said, grinning.
“Ew, no thanks. So, what will you wear for your first day of work tomorrow?”
“Probably just a pair of my black high-waisted pants and one of my new work blouses I plan on buying while we’re out. Nothing special,” I said, shrugging.
“Not looking to impress any of your dad’s employees?” she asked.
“My father built a medical supplies business, not a Chippendale’s,” I said.
“Alright. Alright. Just thought I’d ask,” she said.
“I’ll call you and let you know how it goes?” I asked before I plucked a grape from my plate.
“You better,” she said. “I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“Oh, I know. The risqué business of medical supplies. I’ll get you all the juicy gossip tomorrow,” I said.
“I’ll bring the wine if you order the pizza,” she said.
“Deal.”
“Oh! You never told me what Christian offered you for the job,” she said.
“I told you: running the back end of things,” I said.
“No, no, no. Payment, sweetheart. What’s he paying you?” she asked.
“Oh. 160K a year plus benefits. Four weeks paid vacation, two weeks unpaid sick leave,” I said.
“Holy shit, I hate you,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter, though. I should have the entire company,” I said.
“Stella.”
“Look. If Christian proves himself, then when I take the company back he can be the senior VP. But, Harte To Heart Medical Supplies should have a Harte running it. It doesn’t say Gunn To Heart Medical Supplies. We aren’t intentionally trying to injure people so they’ll use our product,” I said.
Daisy threw her head back and laughed at my comment. It was true, though! Why was someone with a different last name running the company when someone of the same last name was perfectly groomed for it? It just didn’t make sense, no matter what cryptic, cockamamie crap Christian wanted to sell me on yesterday.
“You’re a fucking mess, and you need a massage,” Daisy said.
“Well, get me into one, and I’ll show you a woman ready to receive one,” I said.
“Well, let’s hope your nails are dry in the next 10 minutes, because that’s when our appointment starts.”
“Oh, hell. Did you buy me a massage? Daisy, this is too much,” I said.
“Stella. You just lost your father. You’re dealing with some serious internal struggles over this company thing. Your boyfriend isn’t doing you any favors. I’m treating you to a spa day,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said. “Really.”
The two of us went to get massages before we headed on to an early dinner. Daisy absolutely spoiled me, and by the time she dropped me off at my home, I was ready to fall into bed and sleep. We pulled up to my home, and it seemed like such work to get from the car to the porch, so I was glad when Daisy began talking.
Until I realized what she was talking about.
“Just be careful. Your judgment of Christian is clouded by the fact that the two of you couldn’t stand each other growing up. And I can’t say I get it, but I can imagine how alone you feel right now. When I lost my mom and dad—”
I reached over and grabbed her hand while Daisy’s eyes misted over. Five years ago, she lost her parents in a house fire while the two of us were on vacation at the beach. We had decided to have a girls’ weekend and go find us some summer flings to bring home, but less than a day into the trip she got a call from the police department.
“I’m concerned that you want the company for the wrong reasons. It’s obvious you don’t want it for the glory or the money, but I’m worried you’re sinking your talons into the company so you don’t really have to let go of your dad,” she said.
“Daisy, I—”
“Just be careful,” she said.
“I will. I promise.”
I waved to her from the porch while her words ricocheted around in my mind. I walked back into my dark, lonely home, and the thought of returning t
o my father’s book shook me with exhaustion. I pulled myself upstairs and flopped down onto the bed, breathing in the deep scent of the room while my mind ran away from me.
My eyes watered when a distinct memory of my father pulled to the forefront of my mind. It was the first time I could remember ever going to the store with him, and there was a woman in there with a cane that wouldn’t elongate as far as she needed it to go. She was complaining of pain in her back because of how far over she had to hunch when walking, and I watched my father pull every cane from the back store so the woman could leave with one that worked.
He spent over an hour with her, pulling cane after cane he had in his inventory. He would pull them out as far as they would go, the woman would walk a few steps, and then he would start the process all over again.
And all because she came into the store for back pain.
That was what I saw when someone mentioned ‘front end of the business.’ I saw customer service and care. I saw helping hands in a sprawling city that seemed heartless to those who needed it most. I saw a hands-on approach to medical supplies and a caring smile exchanged between two people.
But, most of all? I saw my father. Helping the people he loved the most in a city he held near and dear to his heart.
I sobbed into my pillow when I realized Christian would never understand that. He would never understand that because he never wanted to go to the store. Not when he was younger, not when he was older, and not now.
Not until the wills were read.
I needed to figure out what his mother had said to him in that letter, because something told me that was the key to taking this company back.
“I’ll fix this, Father,” I said. “I’ll fix this, I promise.”
Chapter Nine
Christian
The first day of work rolled around, and I realized I didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. Up until this point, the jobs I’d had only required jeans and T-shirts. The only suit I did own didn’t fit me correctly, nor did the dress shirt I had along with the one tie I’d bought on a whim. I looked ridiculous in the monstrosity I called a suit, but it was the only thing I had that was remotely acceptable for the job.
I skipped the morning coffee at Todd’s coffeehouse and went straight to work. I wanted to try and get there before Stella did to minimize the idea that I didn’t know what I was doing, but by the time I got there, she was already calling everyone in for a meeting. She looked very professional, with her blouse tucked into her black work slacks, and the look she gave me when I walked through the door told me she wasn’t impressed.
“Meeting in 10, guys!” she called out as I walked through the door.
“Hey there, Stella,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“I thought it’d be nice to get everyone together just for a short meeting. This isn’t just a transition for us; it’s a transition for them, too,” she said.
“Sounds like a good idea. Anything specific you want to touch on?” I asked.
“Not particularly. I want to reassure them I, oh, I mean, ‘we,’ have everything under control. Plus, we need to introduce you. They know who I am, but they have no idea who you are,” she said.
“Good idea,” I said. “See? We make a great couple already.”
“Is that the only suit you own?” she asked.
I saw her eyes looking me up and down, and I couldn’t imagine how ridiculous I looked. The bright yellow shirt against the brown tie in the large gray suit I was wearing was probably doing me no favors in the professional department. But, the way Stella was looking at me made me feel like we were back in our teenage years. Like she was looking down on me for something I was doing that she didn’t approve of.
“It is currently, but it won’t be once I can get established and get back out to shop,” I said.
“Yeah, you’ll need to do that. Just follow my lead in the meeting for now. Once you become more comfortable, you can take the reins,” she said.
“I believe I’ll do just fine on my own,” I said.
I watched her roll her shoulders back before she gave me one more look. There was something off about the way Stella was acting right now versus the way she behaved the last time we saw each other. The Stella from earlier this week had been sorrowful and vulnerable. There had been memories to regale and a confusion about her that she couldn’t kick. She was comfortable in her vulnerability and open to the idea of us working together. There had been a softness to her eyes, an openness to her tone of voice, and her smile had crinkled her eyes.
Today she was different. Her shoulders were tight, and her body was always slightly leaned away from me. The lilt in her voice reminded me of the tone from our teenage years whenever Stella would attempt to coach me on something she thought I didn’t understand. I noticed she was intentionally trying to put herself between my body and the employees that passed behind her to head to the meeting.
The Stella I was currently looking at was still pissed I owned the company.
“You coming?” she asked.
There was something in her voice. Something in the way it lightly scratched against my ears that was a dead giveaway. It was reminiscent of the same harshness she held in her tone when she stormed out of the lawyer’s office after the reading of her father’s will. It had the faintest twinge of the condescending tone she took with me at lunch when she tried to verbally beat me into handing her the company.
Stella’s still trying to take this company from me.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming,” I said.
If she thought she could walk through these doors and step up to take Harte To Heart, she was sorely mistaken. I knew she was having a hard time processing the death of her father as well as coping with me obtaining the company, but the truth of the matter was her father didn’t leave her this company. I got the distinct feeling her father never intended to ever give her the company, but convincing Stella of that would be close to impossible.
I walked behind Stella into the room and followed her to the front. If I played her little game and gave her a bit of the upper hand at times, it would give me a chance to watch her. I could watch the moves she was making and get a sense of what her plan might be, which would enable me to better position myself to protect this company. The truth of the matter was, in her father’s letter, he stated that her intentions in honoring him with the company weren’t what he wanted. She mentioned to me, time and time again, that honoring him was what she wanted to do, and every single time she said it that line the lawyer read would flash through my mind.
Part of me ached for the pain Stella was experiencing, but part of me was ready to play the game she was immersing herself in fully.
“Hello, everyone,” Stella began. “First off, I want to take a moment to, um, well, to just say I’m sorry.”
Everyone was looking at her with big, bold eyes, wondering what she was going to say. If you called the entire company in for a meeting, then that meant many people would have to roll out of bed to hear what you had to say. It meant you had something important you only wanted to address once, and I had a feeling that wasn’t what Stella was doing.
“I’m sorry that my father has passed, and uh, that you guys are here during this transition,” she said.
I furrowed my brow slightly in confusion. I had a feeling I knew what she was trying to say, but it wasn’t coming off very well.
And it registered in the other faces of the people in the room.
“Anyway,” she said. “My father loved this country — I-I-I mean, company — very much. He had some plans in the works that will continue to be produced and seen through, and I just wanted to introduce you to the man on my right. I mean, left. The man on my left.”
“That’s Christian,” someone in the back said.
“Hey, Christian!” someone else called out.
I watched Stella’s face pale a bit as she began to wring her hands together. Public speaking always made people nervous, but Stella was proving she wa
s not cut out for it. Part of me wanted to step in and rid her of this painful experience, but I had to play her game.
Just as she was determined to show me that she could run this company better than I could, I had to show her that she did have weaknesses I could fill with my strengths.
“We have some exciting things in the mix that I think my father will really enjoy.”
I winced at the phrasing while Stella froze in place. Gone was the strong, steadfast look of the woman trying to usurp this company. In its place, however, was the vulnerable look of a child who had just lost her father. Who had just discovered a weakness she didn’t know herself to have.
Who had just lost everything.
“Morning, everyone!” I cut in. “As Stella has said, I’m Christian, and I’m very honored to be meeting all of you. I know your mornings are precious, so I’ll keep it short. My stepfather, much to the surprise of both of us, has left us both the company to run. I’ll be the face of the company as well as the runner of the front end. Customer service, client checkup, new contract negotiation, and finances will be my expertise. Stella here will be running the back end. She’ll oversee new hires, new projects, licensing, warehouse production, and all of the hard work it takes to give this place the life it needs.”
Stella slowly panned her gaze over to me, and I saw the steely look settling on her face. She was pissed that I took over. That I didn’t give her enough time to collect herself. I could see her pride was going to be a problem. She’d be angry at me for the rest of the day, and she’d come up with some excuse as to why she needed a bit more time to gather her thoughts, but I didn’t care. Everyone here was tired and had a life, and they couldn’t wait around for her to gather up her life so she could speak with them.
“We do have some projects that were near and dear to my stepfather’s heart that we will be continuing, but there are also some new projects we will be taking on as well. One of my major ideas is to take the attic space of this store and transform it into two office spaces: one for myself and one for Stella. That way, we are readily available during regular office hours and accessible to help maintain the store and address any big problems.