Cameron's Contract

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Dad’s reassured me his old attorney put an addendum in place to prevent it happening again.”

  “Old?” said Shay.

  “As in just died.”

  “Suspiciously?”

  “Heart attack on the golf course.”

  “Another good reason never to play golf,” said Henry.

  “What’s the first reason?” asked Shay.

  “I hate golf.”

  Mia sat up. “What kind of addendum?”

  “I’ve yet to find it,” I said.

  “It’s in that contract you were reading?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dad gave you a contract to read?” asked Henry.

  “It’s five hundred pages long. Want to take a look?”

  “I’m good,” he said.

  I smiled and shook my head. “So, here’s where we start…”

  We used the back wall to write the board members’ names and beneath it left a vertical space where we’d add in details. We set up three laptops found around the house and also utilized the desktop. We worked fast, starting with addresses, financial status, family members, and political preferences from voting records. We even managed to obtain medical data from their Cole Tea policies. Shay’s hacking skills came in handy on all fronts.

  As Mia, Henry, and Shay began notating the information under each name, I sat in the corner watching footage, including interviews that had been conducted over the years, studying every perspective of each person.

  I was so engrossed in a YouTube video of board member Leonard Maybury that I hadn’t noticed my mom enter. Rubbing the tiredness from my eyes, I realized she was standing stock-still, gaping at the wall’s graffiti.

  “I’ll paint over it,” I told her.

  She left and closed the door behind her.

  After swapping a wary stare with Henry, I went back to the screen.

  Twenty minutes later, Mom returned. She carried a tray with four mugs of coffee and proceeded to hand them out, adding milk and sugar as needed.

  She smiled fondly at Mia as she prepared her beverage.

  Mia was her usual kind and appreciative self, showing Mom there were no hard feelings.

  Now it was my turn to gape, and on Mia’s subtle gesture, I closed my mouth.

  Mom strolled over to the wall.

  “He made me do it,” murmured Henry with a glint of mischief.

  “Leonard Maybury.” She rested a fingertip by his name. “His parents were German immigrants. He studied business at Wharton. We took a holiday together a year ago with his wife Sally in Bavaria.”

  I rose to my feet and headed over. “That’s good, Mom. Keep going.”

  Her eyes glinted with warmth. “Leonard experienced bankruptcy in his late twenties. His first business went under due to his over-leveraged hotel and casino business in New Orleans.”

  I pointed to his name. “His wife?”

  She gave a nod and held her hand out for the pen. “We’re on the same charity committee. Sally’s religious.”

  “Catholic?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you get along with her?”

  “Yes, I like her.”

  I picked up the spare marker and drew a line through his name. “He’s last. Just in case.”

  “Just in case?” asked Shay.

  “We run out of time,” I said.

  Mom frowned. “But he went through something similar to what your dad’s going through right now.”

  “Yes,” I said, “and he cheated his way back to success. He’ll be hard to extract empathy from.”

  She frowned. “You’re going to visit them?”

  “After I’ve finished profiling.”

  “I should go with you.”

  “I imagined you phoned everyone?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re closing ranks.”

  “But there isn’t enough time to visit everyone,” she said. “You only have a day.”

  I nodded. “That’s why we need to be precise.”

  “Like a laser beam,” said Shay.

  “Look at this, Cameron.” Mia had a file opened in front of her.

  I headed on over.

  “What is that?” asked Mom.

  “It’s the list of signatures,” said Mia. “Where each board member—”

  “Stabbed us in the back,” said Mom.

  Mia pointed. “This is interesting. Look at Mr. Malt’s signature. It’s a little shaky and looks nothing like the one here from two years ago. Do you think someone else signed it?”

  I dragged the list over and compared it to where Douglas Malt had previously signed his name for a memo.

  “Perhaps he has arthritis now?” said Mia. “That would account for it.”

  “Your dad did mention Douglas hadn’t attended the last few meetings,” said Mom. “He conducts all business dealings from home. His wife was his secretary back in the day.”

  “Can his signature be voided?” asked Shay.

  “That would win a vote back,” said Henry.

  I opened Douglas Malt’s file. “He lives in Greenwich.” I headed back over to the wall and scribbled an asterisk beside his name. “Let’s pay him a visit first.”

  “What is that?” Mom looked horrified.

  She’d caught sight of the medical conditions I’d written beneath each name, tucked away beneath the list of family members, including grandchildren.

  “Brendon Smith had a heart attack a year ago,” I said. “We’re making a note of medical records too. I need a complete profile.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “We might have a hacker in our midst,” I said.

  “That’s not legal,” she said.

  “We’re using what we find for the good of Cole Tea.”

  “If you must,” she said weakly.

  Henry arched his brows.

  “I need the key to this room,” I said. “No one, and I mean no one, enters here without my permission.”

  Mom’s stare swept across the wall. “I’ll personally paint over it when we’re done.”

  “Now let’s not go too far, Mom,” said Henry. “We don’t want there to be a crack in the space-time continuum.”

  It was good to see her laugh.

  CHAPTER 13

  “YOUR BEAUTY, IT haunts me,” I whispered.

  Mia blushed. “Such a romantic.”

  “I’m serious. Can’t drag my eyes off you.”

  “We need to focus.”

  “I’m focused.” Reluctantly I pulled my hand away from hers. “Perhaps wearing FMBs wasn’t a good idea.”

  “You bought them for me.”

  “Technically, Penny did.” I yawned.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  I leafed through the coffee table book featuring old photos of New York.

  The answer was no, but Mia didn’t need to know I’d been up all night, nose deep in that document, refusing to give up until I’d found what I was looking for. Whatever it was meant to be.

  I was going on forty-eight hours without sleep.

  We’d been invited in by Mrs. Malt and had been escorted into the sitting room and left waiting for her to go and arrange refreshments.

  The minimalist décor reflected a couple who loved to travel and hinted this wasn’t the family home. White walls, soft browns, and elegant furniture reflected an older couple’s taste, along with those photos of grandchildren, some graduating college, others venturing into impressive careers. The Malts had a fighter pilot in the family, apparently. The young man’s smile hid the horrors of a cruise ship at war.

  The view of the city was stunning. The vibrant vista had yet to light up the night sky and reveal why so many loved New York.

  My gaze returned to Mia.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She smiled.

  “I’m waiting for you to open those sliding doors, strip naked, and take a running jump into the pool.”

  “I need to remain professional
, Dr. Cole.”

  “Pity.”

  “I’m sure Mrs. Malt wouldn’t appreciate a naked woman doing laps.”

  “Might work,” I said. “I’ll tell her you’re not getting out unless Doug overturns his vote. It may be considered one of my more genius manipulations.”

  Glancing at my phone, I beamed a smile.

  Mia leaned over to look. “They overturned it?”

  I’d sent Henry and Shay to Maurice Reiner’s house, and they’d just confirmed they’d changed his mind.

  That left us with nine votes to go.

  Maurice’s ex-forces background included him serving as a helicopter pilot when he was at Camp Bondsteel, the main base of the U.S. under KFOR command in Kosovo. Maurice had resigned his commission weeks after his father’s unexpected death. He’d inherited his dad’s estate, which included a news station and a dying newspaper. There was no doubt the bond between those who’d been in the military went deep, and Shay and Henry would have had the cards tipped in their favor for getting through to him, making Maurice a likely candidate to change his vote.

  As was Doug Malt, who’d once been considered a close friend of my father’s and had shared more fond memories with my family than any other member of the board.

  Though he’d not been seen in public for the last few months, and as such we’d all suspected a major illness and chosen to ignore the ruse that he was on a worldwide lecturing tour.

  The truth lay in what Mrs. Malt was willing to share.

  She reappeared and sat in the armchair opposite. “Drinks are on their way.”

  “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” said Mia. “We value your time.”

  She gave a nod of thanks. “Dr. Cole, how are your parents?”

  “Fairing well, considering. Please, call me Cameron.”

  “Cameron.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Susan.”

  “This is Mia,” I said. “Susan, it’s good to see you again.”

  She gave a nod. “This is a pleasant surprise. I haven’t seen you since the party your father threw for Henry after his graduation.”

  “Henry’s actually out of the military now,” I said. “He’s joined the business.”

  “Doesn’t time fly. It seems like only yesterday.”

  “It does.”

  “You two are so close.”

  “We are.”

  “And Willow? How is she?”

  “Still obsessed with horses,” I said. “No change there.”

  She sat back. “Did your father send you?”

  Mia gestured our sincerity. “Whatever you tell us will not leave this room, Mrs. Malt. We promise.”

  “You have our word,” I said.

  She stared down, as though still unsure. “I’m so sorry how it all worked out.”

  “It’s not over,” I said. “There’s still time.”

  “Everyone has signed it I’m afraid,” she said.

  “Mrs. Malt, may I speak with your husband?”

  “He’s resting.”

  “I really need to see him. My father’s life’s work is hanging in the balance.”

  She stared at the carpet and her gaze swept the floor.

  “Mr. Malt has Alzheimer’s?” said Mia softly.

  Susan’s gaze rose.

  “We realize this is extraordinarily private,” I said.

  “We understand,” said Mia. “We know how difficult this is.”

  “Understand?” said Susan.

  “We empathize.” I gestured to the stack of leather bound photo albums. “A visual aid?”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, standing. “I have family heading into town.”

  “Those visual aids do help in bringing him back to you, but what then?” I said softly. “His moments of clarity bring him distress. He’s fully aware in that moment of his diagnosis.”

  “It’s so hard,” she whispered.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Mia.

  “Who told you?”

  “As a doctor…” I said. “Well, it’s intuitive.”

  I left out we’d utilized Shay’s hacking skills.

  “You can’t truly comprehend what the last year has been like,” said Susan.

  “When Doug’s present, you savor those few minutes,” I said.

  She conceded with a nod.

  I leaned forward. “There’s new clinical research results coming out of Zurich. Their findings are extraordinary. The drug has just been approved. If you like, I can arrange for Doug to receive it.”

  She sat back down, her face marred with confusion. “With Doug’s connections, you’d have thought it would be easy.”

  “The FDA is a wary gatekeeper.”

  “The trials have proven effective?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head woefully. “The one man in my life who could understand those results and make the decision based on his experience. Maybe run his own tests.”

  “Doug’s a brilliant scientist,” I said.

  “He was.”

  I’d known him as a quiet man, obsessed with medical research, having married into money yet determined to leave his own mark on the world. A friend of my father’s who’d come onto the board at his behest to inspire loyalty among the others.

  “I’ll have the medication delivered by a specialist in the field,” I said. “They’ll guide you through the process and measure its efficacy.”

  “You’ll do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “You always did prefer medicine.”

  I sat back. “Yes, taking care of my patients became a priority. Taking care of their families who needed me just as much has consumed my time. I’m sure you’re finding such dedication from your own doctors reassuring at this time?” I placed my hand on my heart. “I’m still my father’s son.”

  She gave a nod. “Of course you are.”

  “There was a time when I lost my one true love,” I said. “Couldn’t have her. She was out of reach and there was nothing I could do or say to put that right. I felt like I was drowning, and I suppose in many ways I was. There was no way to get her back. Or so I believed. Those were the darkest days of my life.”

  And of my own making, I mused.

  “What happened?” asked Susan.

  “Fate intercepted. I got her back.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  I rested my elbows on my knees. “When it comes to understanding what losing the love of your life feels like, I’ve lived it.”

  “No one can ever know,” she muttered. “His work would be jeopardized.”

  Mia shot me a concerned look.

  “You forged his signature,” I said. “Doug would never have signed that contract.”

  “The other members of the board were very persuasive.”

  “They called a private meeting?”

  “Last Thursday.”

  “Who set it?”

  “Remy Parker.”

  I knew little of him other than his suspected connections with another tea conglomerate out of China.

  “When I got to the meeting I realized your father hadn’t been invited. It was a coup.”

  “You were concerned if you spoke up your husband would be put in the spotlight?”

  “The last few years of his work will be compromised,” she said. “His latest scientific developments will be scrutinized. His latest drug threatened and quite possibly pulled from the market. It saves so many lives.”

  “PolFlexa,” I said. “Limited side-effects and its efficacy in treating Glioblastomas is groundbreaking.”

  “Doug knew,” said Susan, “He recognized his early symptoms. So he took himself out of the lab and entered early retirement. The plan was to remain on your father’s board long enough to provide some space between leaving work.”

  “Create no suspicion,” I said.

  “He so loves your father.”

  “Dad did mention that of all the members it was Doug’s betrayal that most hurt him.�
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  “It was all so overwhelming,” she said. “Remy framed it as being best for the shareholders.”

  “Did you see the new advertising campaign?” I said dryly.

  “That bad?” She suppressed a grin.

  “Oh yes. Cole’s a classic brand that could do with moving forward, but in a more refined way.”

  We spent the rest of the morning talking about Doug, about them and how they met, sharing stories of her long and happy marriage. We talked about the business and what it had meant to both her and her husband to be involved in Cole Tea, as well as the company’s philanthropic pursuits.

  She brushed off a speck of dust from her pants. “Your father has seemed a little overwhelmed lately, what with opening offices in San Francisco and his plans to expand to L.A. I believed this may actually help him. Nudge him into retirement.”

  I gave a nod. “He’s a good man.”

  “You want me to talk frankly?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You and your brother are only now interested in Cole Tea? At the eleventh hour.”

  “We believed there’d always be time.”

  She lowered her gaze.

  “We know you forged Doug’s signature,” I said. “Reverse your vote.”

  “Is this a veiled threat?”

  “A promise that I’ll commit fully to my father’s business.”

  “Leave medicine?”

  Mia shifted beside me, but I refused to look at her. I didn’t want her to see my conflict. Some part of me believed there was no saving Cole Tea and any promise made would dissipate with the fall of an empire. Yet a certainty lingered that I had what it took to reverse a hostile attack.

  There came a sense that every moment of my life had led me here.

  Susan looked beyond the window. “With you and Henry in charge I believe the business would stand a chance.” Her eyes met mine again. “Dedicate your life fully to Cole Tea.”

  “Without question.”

  She gave a nod of acceptance. “Now all you have to do is convince the others.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “CAMERON?” whispered Mia.

  “Just give me a moment.”

  The limousine pulled away smoothly. Our driver turned up the air conditioning just as I’d asked. Mia snuggled in, her body warm and soft against my mine. I focused on the passing view, immersed in self-analysis.