She didn’t want to. What Charleigh wanted to do was shut the door in their faces and go to sleep. When she woke up in the morning, she would pack her bags and fly back home to Magnolia. Once Charleigh was there, then she would figure out what she was going to do with Davidson and Associates. Put it on EBAY and auction it off with a starting bid of one-cent, if that’s what it came down to.
Jenna sat down in one of the plush black leather chairs in the sitting area. Kevin propped himself down on the arm of that same chair. Terry and Fredrick stayed standing.
“Okay, y’all. What is this all about? You’re running out of time,” Charleigh told them as she sat down on the edge of her bed for the night.
“We just left the meeting. And we’ve come up with a plan that will make everyone happy, especially you, Charleigh,” Terry began, shifting his briefcase from one hand to the other.
Charleigh twisted around to look at the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand. It showed 9:45. She’d left the meeting before noon. Was it possible that they’d been there for more than nine hours?
“Go on.”
“Well, before you joined the meeting, they’d all pretty much agreed that separating would be the best thing to do for everybody,” her trust attorney said.
“So what was the problem with Sullivan?” Charleigh asked, somewhat relieved by what she had just been told. However, she knew Terry wasn’t finished yet with what he had to say.
“Apparently, Dad promised that Richard could take over as CEO, because he was planning to retire in a few years,” Kevin replied.
“I guess Greg didn’t think much of the agreement Gerald Davidson made with my parents,” Charleigh remarked, shaking her head with disgust. Even though he’d promised not to, Greg had still been making crooked deals.
“He knew that you didn’t want to run the company. Greg figured that his recommendation would be enough for you just to step back and let Richard become CEO when the time came,” Fredrick added.
“I guess he still expected me to let him take over, even after Greg died. Richard Sullivan got a rude awakening, huh?”
“One thing is for sure, old Dick never expected Charleigh to let the companies go in their own directions,” Terry said with a laugh. “According to William Mauer, they’ve been wanting to do so for a while now.”
“He’s right. Greg would never allow it,” Fredrick confirmed. “If I had only known what I was getting into all those years ago when I merged with Gerald Davidson.”
“But you got what you wanted, Charleigh,” Jenna said, changing the subject. Unlike Jamie had known, and Kevin did now, she would never accept that her father and grandfather had been crooked businessmen. “Three of the companies had broken out on their own, and you made a lot of money from this deal. Twelve billion dollars.”
“Twelve billion dollars?” Charleigh repeated as a question, baffled by the amount. It was a lot of money. Maybe too much. “But only three? There are four other branches to Davidson. What’s the deal with the fourth?”
“That’s my fault,” Fredrick replied, letting his shoulders sag a little. “I just don’t know what to do about my company. I was supposed to retire in December, but with Daniel’s death… He’d already taken over as President, but I don’t feel that there’s anyone with enough experience to run it the way my son did.”
Charleigh nodded with understanding. “What about the employees from the New York branch?” She had figured that they would separate among the agencies.
“Well, a few of the architects approached me for advice on whether or not you would let them out of their contracts to go work elsewhere.” Terry looked over the first page of a yellow legal pad he held. “None of them wants to continue working for the associates, if you shut down the New York office, except John Madison. He wants to go to London and work for King.”
“Fred, I don’t know what I could do to help you. I don’t even know the first thing about architecture,” Charleigh said, knowing that it wasn’t a secret.
“You have a bachelor’s degree in business, Charleigh. That’s really all you need to know to take over as CEO. I can help you with everything else on the building aspect of the company,” he told her. Fredrick Macmillan knew the young woman had the smarts. She was as sharp as a razor blade.
“But what if I fail? My main concern is the employees. I have enough money to last a few lifetimes, but what about them? What would they do if the business went belly-up?” Charleigh chewed on her bottom lip as she looked around the room at each of the other four people.
“I guess it’s the risk you have to take Charleigh,” Jenna told her, shrugging a shoulder.
Yes, she supposed Jenna was right. It was just the risk that Charleigh was going to have to take.
Chapter Forty
The hum of voices filled the large auditorium. They belonged to the almost fifteen-hundred employees of the New York branch of the revamped Davidson and Associates, which was now known as RandallCorp. Sitting next to Fredrick Macmillan at the head table Charleigh carelessly picked at some kind of chocolate-dipped dessert, thinking all the while that the awful sound resembled the loud, collective buzzing of a million African honey bees. And they all seemed to want to sting her to death.
It had been Fred’s idea for the luncheon, to introduce herself to her new employees. As far as Charleigh could see, this was the only bad the man had had.
Before the speech she’d just given, Charleigh had hoped that they would understand that she didn’t really want to change anything about the company. She only wanted to do fair and honest business, and it was now very obvious to Charleigh that that was something these people knew nothing and cared nothing about. Charleigh wanted to run RandallCorp the same exact way that she ran the feed store and veterinarian clinic back in Oklahoma.
She could go on and on about what Greg had revealed to her about his and Gerald Davidson’s shady business deals. Charleigh had actually thought about giving these people a lecture. Didn’t these people have any dignity? Had it never occurred to them that these two men were crooked? Had they even cared?
Charleigh wondered how many of the buildings Davidson and Associates had designed and constructed were actually built efficiently. There had to be hundreds, probably even thousands, of them with a flaw structured.
Come on, people? What were they afraid of? That Charleigh would expose them for dirty dealings? Well, they had no need to worry about that, but she did plan to run RandallCorp as a ‘well-oiled machine.’
Nope, Charleigh had refrained from going on her pregnancy-induced, hormonally-charged tirade. She’d played nice, and applauded the company as a whole for their success. She bullshitted her way through a forty-five minute long speech about how she wanted to stay successful, even though the three branches in London, Thailand, and Paris were going in their own directions. Internally, Charleigh was screaming, ‘Adios! Au revoir! And whatever goodbye is in Thai! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!’
Charleigh had explained her ideas for what she wanted to do in the future. “And I hope all of you will help me learn more about the world of architecture as we go along.” Blah, blah, blah! Apparently, they hadn’t bought it, because her audience gave sparse, if any, applause at all when the speech was over. Not that she really cared.
“Are you finished with that, Miss?” A tall man in a waiter’s uniform was standing over her.
Charleigh looked up into his face. Blue eyes the color of a cloudless sky. At first, she couldn’t put her thoughts into words. Was she through with the dessert? She hadn’t taken a single bite, though, it was demolished on the plate. For the first time in seven months, Charleigh could honestly say that she wasn’t even hungry.
“Yes,” Charleigh replied, giving the man a kind smile. She turned to Fred, “I’m going to go upstairs and lie down for a while before the press conference. Will you come get me in about an hour or so?”
The old man nodded. He stood to help Charleigh out of her own chair. Holding on to
the young woman’s hand, he spoke, “Go relax. The hard part is over.”
“Yeah,” Charleigh replied, slightly sarcastic as she walked away.
***
Nervously, Charleigh stood alone backstage as she waited for the press conference to begin where she would have to play nice once again for the cameras. Don’t forget to smile and say ‘Cheese!’ A heavy black curtain separated her from the large crowd that had gathered. Television stations. CBS, CNN, NBC, FOX, ABC. Local and National affiliates were in attendance for the special announcement she was about to make. Reporters from all kinds of different newspapers and magazines.
It would be broadcast around the world, Charleigh was sure. In several different languages. Everyone from Magnolia to New York City, London to Dublin, and even farther to parts of the world Charleigh didn’t know existed would soon come to know who she was. That is, if they didn’t already.
She wasn’t little Charleigh Randall from Magnolia, Oklahoma anymore. She was a grown woman. One who was going to give birth to twin boys in a few short months. One who also owned the largest real estate design conglomerate in the world, and could, arguably, be the richest person on the planet Earth because of it. She was about to take the reins of said company as the CEO. Unwillingly, of course, but that was the part of Charleigh’s speech that she would leave out, just as she had earlier.
Taking a deep breath, Charleigh turned as she heard the clomp of footsteps approaching from behind. A few yards away was Fredrick Macmillan. Accompanied by several members of the company’s advisory board, he slowly came closer.
This was one man Charleigh had decided that she could trust. She would have to rely on him to teach her everything she needed to know about running an architectural firm. As she’d said many times before, Charleigh didn’t know the first thing about designing and constructing buildings, but she was willing to learn, for the sake of the men and women who worked for the newly restructured company now known as RandallCorp.
Even if they didn’t give a lick about her, Charleigh was willing to be the bigger person, suck it up, and keep the company running so at least these people would still have jobs. They didn’t consider that she was becoming the captain of a sinking ship for their benefit, and not because she was on some kind of power trip.
As soon as the press conference was done and over with, the advisory board would be no more. The subsidiaries would each go in their own direction, and Charleigh would have made a twelve billion dollar profit to use toward building her summer camp and anything else philanthropic she saw fit to do.
Oh, Charleigh just could not stand Mark Wan. He was such an asinine know-it-all Asian. Snickering to herself, Charleigh looked back out to where even more people had flooded into the auditorium. She was determined to make a go at this position and be dang good at it, too, just to show up all those idiots like Mister Wan what Charleigh Randall was made of.
“Are you ready?” Fredrick asked as he came up and softly touched Charleigh’s elbow.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.” And she stepped out from behind the curtain and onto the stage.
Charleigh didn’t wait for the rest of the group. She marched over to a seat, where her name was printed in a bold, black Times New Romans font on a white piece of cardboard that was shaped into a long triangle, and sat down. It was the first chair closest to the podium.
Carl Evans, the head of RandallCorp’s public relations department stood there, quietly going over notes. He looked down at Charleigh, and then at his watch. The press conference was scheduled to start at four o’clock, and she was fifteen minutes early.
“Uh, Miss Randall. We still have a while before we’re supposed to begin,” Carl whispered down to her. His hand covered the microphone just in case it happened to be on.
“Yeah, I think we should start now.” Charleigh voice echoed through the large room. More than half of the audience looked in her direction, becoming aware of the ‘grand’ Charleigh Randall’s presence.
“I’m sure there are a few members of the media who have yet to arrive. Four o’clock would be sufficient,” he replied.
Charleigh took a deep breath. She shook her head, covering her own microphone, as she looked out over the crowd. Hormones were raging for the umpteenth time that day. Did this man really want to mess with her right now? Aggressively, she turned to the man who stood next to her. It was apparent that some people were still having problems with the way she had decided to handle business.
Although ninety-six percent of Davidson and Associates employees had retained their positions in the branches located in New York City and Dallas, it didn’t mean they liked the idea of a greenhorn taking over. They had shown her in more ways than one that she was not welcome. It was even more apparent now that Charleigh was going to have to show them who was indeed in charge.
“I think it’s an adequate time to start the press conference. Too bad for anyone who didn’t decide to arrive at sunup like the rest of these newshounds,” Charleigh seethed, “I’m the boss, Mister Evans. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Miss Randall,” the man answered through clenched teeth.
“Good.” Charleigh smiled up at him. Taking her hand off of the microphone, she began to speak, “Hello, everyone. My name is Charleigh Randall, and I own this company. If you could take your seats, I’d like to begin.”
Chapter Forty-one
Lying back on the exam table, Charleigh stared up at the posters that Doctor Emerson had tacked to the ceiling. Funny quotes and pictures. She imagined he'd put them there so that the dozens of pregos he saw everyday would have something to look at while they spread eagle, much as she was at that very moment.
Feeling drafty, Charleigh pulled at the paper gowns she was wearing. Yep, she was wearing two. One the correct way, and the other was backwards to cover her rear. When Dana the nurse told her that she'd gained fifteen pounds in a month, Charleigh just about had a heart attack. Fifteen pounds? Where could it all have gone? Since all she'd been wearing lately was maternity sweats and sweatshirt, Charleigh hadn't even noticed it.
She suddenly realized it had all gone to her baby bump when she went to put on the first gown and surprisingly needed another to cover her back and butt.
“Hmmph,” she groaned when one of the babies stuck a foot or hand in her ribs, taking her breath away.
It wasn't necessarily painful, just uncomfortable. Charleigh rubbed her midsection as she would a kink, even though she knew it wouldn't do any good. Her baby boys already seemed to have their own personalities, and they were just as stubborn as Jamie and herself. That little person with his tiny fingers or toes jabbed in her side would remove them when he was good and ready.
“Hello,” Doctor Emerson said with a smile as he entered the room. “How are you feeling today, Charleigh?”
“Huge,” she responded without a second thought. She sighed with relief when the babies finally shifted away from her ribcage.
Doctor Emerson's smile widened at the comment. “Fifteen pounds in a month seems like quite a lot, but overall you've only gained twenty-eight pounds. That's a normal amount of weight, Charleigh. It's nothing to be worried or ashamed about.”
“But I have three more months to go, Doc. Will you say the same thing next month if I've gained another fifteen pounds?” She asked with tears in her eyes. “What if I've gained almost a hundred pounds total by the time the babies are born?”
She’d taken a glucose test earlier in the pregnancy, and the results were good. That’d proven that she didn’t have gestation diabetes. So, even though Charleigh wouldn’t admit it without being prodded, they both knew the reason why she’d gained some much weight. It was called junk food. Twinkies and chips and cookies. Cake. Donuts. Just about anything and everything that Charleigh could get her hands on.
Doctor Emerson gave her a stern look. It told Charleigh that she wouldn’t gain all that much weight unless she let herself. He’d watched from behind t
he receptionist’s partition as she eat three Twinkies in a five-minute time span, almost without chewing, in his waiting room, and he wasn’t going to going to pretend as if he’d never seen this.
Charleigh shrugged, embarrassed. “Doc, I can’t do any of the things that I used to do. I was so physically active in my work with the horses and at the clinic. Now, I just sit around all day and watch television. When I get bored with that, I eat. When I’m sad and missing Jamie and my Dad, I eat. There’s not much else I can do.”
“What about taking a walk?” asked Doctor Emerson. “Walk down to the end of your driveway to get the mail instead of driving. Get out and get some fresh air once in a while. You can’t keep yourself closed in this entire time, Charleigh. And you can’t keep eating the way you do, or you will weigh one-hundred pounds by May.”
“Okay,” she replied with a nod. “Help me figure out what I need to do to fix this then.”
Leaving the medical complex, Charleigh felt hungry. Not bored-hungry or sad-hungry or lonely-hungry. She was really, truly hungry. Her mouth started to water for a bite of a Big Mac, with extra special sauce. And McDonald’s French fries.
Oh, the salty deliciousness of those little potato strips was calling Charleigh’s name as she headed down the long drive toward University Boulevard! It sounded kind of like the munchkins from The Wizard of Oz, in her head. But then, she remembered what Doctor Emerson had said and changed her mind.
At the stop sign, Charleigh did decide to turn right instead of left to head back to Magnolia. But she wasn’t going to McDonald’s. Nope, Charleigh decided then and there that there would be no more junk food. From now on, she was going to walk the straight and narrow, with a lot of emphasis on the walking part.
***
“Well, Charleigh,” John said opening his front door to find his eldest grandchild standing there. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”
You're Gone (Finding Solid Ground) Page 31