Sean could understand Will leaving the mess at American Frontier. Who on earth would want to remain a board member, much less take on a role as the new CEO of an oil company in the midst of a colossal oil spill that would affect every ocean system on the entire planet? Well, other than Will, who thrived on challenges that appeared impossible to overcome.
A snippet of their childhood flashed into Sean’s mind. Whenever the two brothers played, Will cast himself in the role of the Caped Crusader, complete with their mother’s tablecloth draped for effect. Sean was the villain.
I guess nothing’s changed in Dad’s eyes, Sean thought.
Will would forever be the perfect son, groomed for the helm of the family company. He managed the stable end of Worthington Shares—the big, established, blue-chip companies.
Sean fell into the “we might as well see if we can make any money here” role. Entrepreneurial ventures, launched with Worthington capital—the risky side of the business, where big money was won and lost—had ended up a natural fit for Sean. They allowed him to stay at the forefront of world events. Jet-setting across the globe, connecting with people, and kicking off dreams energized him. Seeing a few of those dreams fly whetted his appetite for more. Ten or so of his more than 100 start-ups were now poised to break out in big ways.
Bill Worthington understood both sides of the business but, like Will, was more comfortable with the blue-chip companies. However, it had been Will and Drew Simons who had maneuvered for Sean to take over the expansion of Worthington Shares in the start-ups. The job perfectly fit him and his entrepreneurial ways, they said, and Bill had agreed to give Sean the opportunity.
Sean had more than delivered—nearly a billion dollars in value in the last five years. Why then did he feel like he didn’t belong around the family dinner table? Or that no matter how much he did, he could never fully please his father? Maybe it was because, when they were growing up, he was the least likely one to be missed if he was MIA. With the spotlight on either his older brother or his charming baby sister, Sean felt stuck in the middle, which is exactly where he was.
Just like he was again, right now. Stuck between his family and those who had expected more out of a Worthington.
Sean sighed. Bill Worthington would find a way to cast Will in the role of Caped Crusader even in this situation. And that left Sean with the role of . . .
Some things never changed.
Will picked up his pace in Central Park. Once his breathing steadied and he’d fallen into a natural rhythm, he kicked into brainstorming mode again. It was a given that he needed to get more information about that photo of Sean and the Polar Bear Bomber, but how exactly could he go after it without tipping his hand?
The easiest solution in the short-term was to ask Sean what he was doing in the bar with the Polar Bear Bomber. But asking that question would spark further tension between the brothers when tension was already high. Still, Will played out the scenario in his head.
“You think I had something to do with that?” Sean would say. “Are you crazy? Do you think I’m crazy?” His mysterious brother, who drifted in and out of their lives, disappearing occasionally for days or even weeks at a time without telling them where he was going, would be incensed. “You don’t trust me. You never trust me.”
The conversation would turn and head downhill fast, and Will would learn nothing. Worse, if Sean was unaware of who the soon-to-be bomber was—if he’d been set up—he would be driven to vindicate himself. He’d pursue the original source of the photo. He might be hotheaded enough to start asking the wrong parties questions. And he would run squarely into people like Jason Carson, who played the lowest kind of hardball.
Will’s protectiveness kicked in. No, that’s not the way to go.
His processing switched gears. What about Sarah? Or Darcy?
The answer came swiftly. A no-go on both fronts. Yes, Sarah was a Worthington, but in the case of the Polar Bear Bomber, she was spearheading the lawsuit on behalf of the DOJ. If she had information on a possible link or suspect, even if it was her brother, she’d have to follow it to the hilt. Ditto with Darcy, who was like a dog with a prize bone. The agent would never back down.
No, the only thing he could do with Sarah was insert an occasional question about how the search for the Polar Bear Bomber was going. Carson had assured him the news story would hit soon. Then the world would know that the man in the polar bear suit had committed suicide by jumping from the top of a building near Times Square. He’d even left a signed note in a flat in Brooklyn, explaining why.
He could already hear Sarah’s response: “Well, isn’t that a little too tidy.”
The news would only add to his sister’s and Darcy’s suspicions about the timing of the bombing. It had morphed the public ire against the oil spill and the dying whales into empathy for the poor, beleaguered oil company that now had to battle ecological crazies.
Will had come to his own conclusions—that Eric Sandstrom, CEO of AF, had ordered the bombing of his own building to turn the tide of opinion in AF’s favor. Only a storehouse section had been damaged by the backpack bomb.
As Will slowed his pace to wind down, he decided that as soon as his parents left, he would tell Laura about the photo. There were never any secrets between the two of them. She was the only one who knew everything of import that happened in his world, so of course he would tell her about Jason Carson. Because she also knew about Ava’s revelation, she could help put the pieces together of what moves to make next.
Drew? The man always knew more than anyone gave him credit for. He hadn’t texted or phoned Will since Will stepped out of the race, and his silence spoke volumes. Likely Drew was already on the trail, connecting the dots. It was only a matter of hours before Will would have to come clean with him. But how much should he tell? Only about the photo of Sean and the Polar Bear Bomber? Or about Ava’s surprise too?
4
Sean poised his hand to knock again on Will’s penthouse suite door and then jumped back, startled, as it opened. Laura ushered their three children—Andrew, ten-year-old Patricia, and eight-year-old Davy—out the door.
“Uncle Sean!” Patricia shouted, her pink, blingy phone in one hand as she threw her other arm around him.
Davy grabbed him in a waist hug.
Andrew stood solemnly in the doorway.
Laura eyed Sean. “Robyn is taking the kids, plus Emily and Eliza, on an outing. She’ll be here any minute.”
In any other situation, Sean would have chuckled. Laura’s mama-bear drive was still in full swing. Anyone who chose to do anything except nod in response would be stupid indeed.
Good ol’ Drew and Jean, Sean thought. They’d sent their nanny and two girls over to get the Worthington kids out of the line of fire so the adults could process.
The elevator dinged right on schedule, and in less than a minute, the door opened and the three Worthington kids were off on their adventure.
Laura put her hands on her hips. “We’re all going to be civil about this, right?” It really wasn’t a question. It was a command.
Sean gave another simple nod.
“Your mother and father are both here, and Ava is pretty upset. Don’t upset her further,” she warned. Then her tone softened. “I’m sorry, Sean. None of us knew. We still don’t know why. Will’s tight-lipped. Come on in. I’ve got coffee brewing, and I’ll get you a cup.”
His anger calmed. At least he wasn’t the only one on the outside.
And then he stepped into the lions’ den.
When Will had made his announcement, Sarah Katherine Worthington had for once been stunned into silence. She’d sat in a shocked stupor until the media, recognizing her, had converged, jostling to get a comment. She did the only thing she could in her confusion. She fled in the first yellow cab she could flag down and had the cabbie drop her at Washington Square Park.
No way was she heading to Will’s, where World War III would erupt as soon as the three males in her family
stepped into the same location. She couldn’t face her volumes of work at the DOJ either. Instead she’d spent the last couple of hours strolling and pondering.
What had happened to her usually predictable brother? Will had been so certain of his trajectory in politics after he’d given up his position as a board member at American Frontier. She’d never forget how happy he looked the day he moved into the campaign office. He was sure, he’d told her. And it had made sense. For years, the Worthingtons had talked about getting into national politics—taking their place alongside the dynastic political families like the Bushes and Clintons and Kennedys. The siblings joked about it, while their father pushed Will to take the Worthington name into the national political arena, with the constant refrain that Will was “a natural leader.”
Sarah and Sean had exchanged rolled eyes at the worn-out litany. Like we aren’t in everything we do too. Leadership was in the Worthingtons’ DNA. But a long time ago, she’d come to accept that Bill Worthington would treat his firstborn son differently. And honestly, she wouldn’t want to be Will, with so much expectation and responsibility heaped on his shoulders and most of his time spent in stuffy boardrooms. Nor would she want to be continually under the microscopic lens of their exacting father. Without Laura, who balanced him and added zest to his life, Will would be too serious—all work, no play, and a little boring.
She chuckled. That was certainly not true of Sean, an icon of New York’s hottest social scene. His curly red hair, sea-green eyes, and slightly scruffy, rakish good looks had garnered him national and international front-cover magazine profiles on more occasions than she could count.
Her connection with Sean was even closer than the one she had with Will, perhaps because their father obviously favored Will. Or maybe it was because with Sean, Sarah could simply be a sister. With Will more than five years older and acting even older than that as they grew up, he’d played both older brother and father roles in her life.
Bill Worthington had worked hard to ensure that his children had opportunities to match their emerging gifts. But only Will had fallen directly in line with his father’s wishes—accepting the helm of Worthington Shares when his father announced his partial retirement. It was no surprise. They’d all expected things to go that way, and neither she nor Sean wanted the position. Sean was doing what he loved, running solo. He worked even harder to evade family events.
As for Sarah, she had surprised the family by removing her legal obligations to Worthington Shares when she took a career government position shortly after turning 28. Now she’d settled in at the Department of Justice and more than had her hands full with the American Frontier shareholder lawsuit and the criminal negligence suit—perhaps the highest-profile action against a massive corporate giant since the days of the antitrust actions against Ma Bell and Microsoft.
Did she want to remain the deputy assistant attorney general all her life? No, she had other plans—plans only she was privy to. Someday she would take an unexpected turn. She believed passionately in the ability of individuals to make needed changes for the greater good—whether it was reining in the excesses of carnivorous, monopolistic corporations or holding national leaders accountable for their actions on behalf of their constituents and the unique political experiment known as American democracy. But for now, she was satisfied with prosecuting big companies like American Frontier, who had taken too many risks unchecked, and had put both people and the planet in jeopardy.
She checked the time. Exactly 40 minutes before her next meeting. She needed to refocus, but she couldn’t escape the prickling at the back of her neck that something was very wrong.
Just yesterday she’d talked to Will, and he’d been all business, focused on the Senate race launch. What had happened in between?
If this had been Sean, she would have understood. Sean was changeable. He went with the flow. That was why he was so good at what he did, including hopping on a private jet with only an hour’s notice to a remote location half a world away. Sometimes she wondered if he ever truly unpacked.
But this was Will, who lined up his shoes exactly an inch apart in his closet. Why would he change his mind . . . and especially so suddenly?
Sarah knew she wouldn’t be able to focus fully on her DOJ work until she got to the bottom of that question. The only one who might be able to shed some light was Sean.
Trying to get an answer out of Will right now would be like chiseling granite with a spoon.
It wouldn’t make a dent.
5
Sean sipped coffee at Will and Laura’s kitchen table, but the piping hot brew did nothing to warm his insides. Across from him sat Laura, and next to him was his mother. Ava, whose eyes lit up whenever she saw one of her children, barely greeted him. Her regal posture was slumped, her eyes downcast. Silence descended as they waited for Bill Worthington to reappear after taking a call.
Then, as the quietness lay far too heavy, his sister’s cheerful ringtone sounded on his cell. Sarah had timing. He had to give her that.
“What on earth happened?” she blurted out.
“I have no idea,” Sean replied, “but I aim to find out. I’m at Will’s right now.”
“Right. Fill me in later then.” Then, in usual fashion, she abruptly ended the call.
Bill Worthington strode into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He set it on the counter and leaned his tall frame against the wall nearby. “Seems like William has a few things to think about.”
Their father was the only one in the family who called Will “William,” and his simple pronouncement rankled.
“He has a few things to think about,” Sean spouted, getting up from his chair and nearly toppling it. “What about me? I’m the one who has to clean up the mess. Return all the angry calls. He’ll just hide in the boardroom until things settle down.”
Bill Worthington’s dark eyes intensified. He straightened to an intimidating height. Within a second Sean felt the heat of his father’s glare—the one that immediately halted sibling bickering, as well as any corporate directions Bill didn’t agree with.
“Bill,” Ava begged.
“It’s all right, Ava. Let the boy speak,” he said in the same calm, steely tone Will had adopted.
“The boy,” Sean thought. Not “my son” or “our son.” Not even an adult. Just “the boy.” Suddenly he had nothing else to say. Why was he fooling himself, thinking he might get answers here that could help him understand? Thinking he might find empathy?
“Don’t be so hard on your brother,” his father continued. “William thinks things through before he acts. There must have been a reason. When he’s ready, he’ll tell us.”
“Hard on him? What about hard on me?” Sean seethed. “Will’s side, again. You never see mine.”
“Maybe there’s good reason for that.”
“Bill!” Ava looked up again. “Stop.” Tears streaked her cheeks.
“See—you’ve made your mother cry.” Bill exhaled in disgust. “Let’s get something straight. I love both you and William. But I can trust that William will do what’s right, even when he can’t tell us why. Eventually the truth will come out.”
Ava gasped and trembled. Laura reached a hand across the table and clasped her mother-in-law’s.
Sean stiffened. “So you can trust Will. But you can’t trust me. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
Bill tilted his head. “Let’s face it, Sean. You’ve always been a wild card, off doing your own thing. But yes, I think I can trust you.”
“You think, but you don’t know, do you? You’re not sure of that?” The ache in Sean’s throat threatened to push to the surface.
Laura got up from her chair. “Okay, you two. You’re worse than my kids. Enough duking it out for the day, or I’ll put you in separate corners. Neither of you are too old for a time-out.”
Sean lifted his chin, strengthening his resolve. “You won’t have to, because I’m leaving.”
“Son,”
Ava pleaded.
“No, Mom, I need to go.”
The instant he said the words, he realized how true they were. He’d spent so many years feeling like an outsider in his own family—the middleborn who marched to the beat of a different drummer, the one his father said he could never understand. Sean hated it but put up with it because he truly loved his family. When push came to shove, he’d do anything for them. Traveling globally was a good excuse, though, to not have to show up often in the same locale as his father, who either grilled him or ignored him. There was no middle ground.
But that middle ground is what Sean longed for. The lack of it now—no understanding and compassion from his own father—crushed him. He had to flee before he broke down.
Without saying good-bye, he strode out of the kitchen, out the front door, and to the elevator. The penthouse suite door opened, and his mom rushed out, calling his name. But for the first time ever, he didn’t stop, turn, and embrace her. He stepped onto the elevator as soon as the doors opened.
Yes, he knew he would fulfill his duties as a Worthington son by remaining at the helm of the risky side of the business. That was his gift. But it was also time to make his own way in the universe . . . even if it meant cutting himself off for a while from those he loved most in the world.
Once in the lobby, he didn’t wait for the concierge. He stalked through the doors, grabbed a yellow cab outside, and barked, “Get me to One Madison fast.”
Sean was done with waiting. He’d done more than enough of it lately.
The yellow flag that had been waving in the back of Sarah’s mind morphed to a bright red as her cab pulled up in front of the Department of Justice building.
Sarah twirled her right index finger in a circle as the cabbie peered in the rearview mirror. “Go around the block a couple of times,” she directed.
A Powerful Secret Page 2