“Get to the point, Stephen,” Garrett, a founding partner of the firm, spoke up.
Stephen glanced at the faces around the long table. “I strongly encourage the board to consider Sebastian’s effectiveness in his role. His behaviors are obstructive and costly.”
Garrett raised a brow. “Exactly what are you suggesting?” he asked, challenging Stephen.
Stephen leaned in, his forearms pressed against the table’s edge. “A vote. I’m in favor of Sebastian’s dismissal as president and CEO,” Stephen replied.
“For the record, I will be on the opposing end of such a vote. Sebastian helped grow this company from its infancy to nearly $800 million in annual revenues. He took WHS public. I believe his personal struggles are behind him and he is fully committed to the future of our business.”
Stephen clasped his sweaty palms. “Garrett, I respectfully disagree. Sebastian’s absence today is evidence that his priority lies elsewhere.” Using the most commanding tone he could muster, “It’s our job as the ruling board to supervise the CEO. Let’s be honest. He would have been fired long ago if he were anyone else. We. Have. A. Responsibility.”
Garrett pleaded, his glare locked on Stephen. “This is wrong. I do not support this motion.” His voice soared, bouncing off every hard surface in the room. “Sebastian’s wife committed suicide, for God’s sake.”
Stephen brought down a firm fist, banging the table. “Speaking plainly, the man’s a drunk. Sadly, I don’t see him making any effort to change his behavior in the near term.” Stephen relaxed his tone and caught the eyes of each person seated at the table. “The future of this company rests with the board. Sebastian doesn’t own a majority share. He is a liability. Are you willing to take a risk on Sebastian Stone at the expense of our shareholders? I don’t have to tell you what an angry mob we will face, from the media to investors, if we don’t do the responsible thing, if we don’t turn this company around.”
Garrett stood. “Sebastian built this company,” he yelled. “You all live in fancy houses and drive ridiculously expensive cars because of him.” Stephen didn’t move or glance back as Garrett stalked past him. The door slammed as he exited the room. Two other board members rose and followed Garrett.
Stephen smiled. “Gentleman. Anne. Please turn your attention to the screen. I’d like to share my proposal, and then we can vote on the other matter.” He could almost taste victory. Sebastian had created a brilliant proposal. Stephen had made alternative preparations in case Sebastian flaked on the meeting. He had taken a day to review Sebastian’s proposal and had created his own version.
The presentation ended. “I am seeking the board’s approval to move forward.”
“Stephen, the proposal is good, really good. However, I am concerned about the size of investment needed to pull this off,” Anne said. Head nods followed her comment. “And, quite frankly, only Sebastian has the experience to pull something of this scale off.”
“It’s bad debt. I’m hesitant to throw good money after bad. I say we count our losses and sell to the highest bidder,” another member spoke out. More heads nodded.
Sweaty beads of moisture formed across Stephen’s forehead. His plan to oust Sebastian needed to be salvaged, even if he didn’t come out the hero with the winning proposal. Otherwise, Sebastian would have his head when he returned and learned what Stephen attempted to do.
“Understandable.” Stephen remained calm, trying to reassure the board that his interest lie with the company. “I’m in favor of selling if the majority agrees.” Every hand raised in the room. “Now, the other issue at hand. I motion a vote to dismiss Sebastian Stone from his position on the board and his position as WHS CEO.”
Chapter Thirteen
The plane had barely landed before Ashley dialed the number. No one answered when she called the Key West Oceanside Resort. Panic seized her. She did the only thing that seemed logical at the time. She called her best friend.
Kerrigan answered immediately. “Hey, Ash. You’re back?”
Her voice low, defeated, “Yes. Kerri,” she said and then paused. “I’m a horrible human being. I’ve done something terrible.” She imagined Kerrigan’s sweet face riddled with shock and disappointment. “Can you meet me at my apartment in an hour?”
Kerrigan had left Key West the day before Ashley, the afternoon of her last date with Sebastian. Hours and hours of scheming, she kept Kerrigan in the dark. Ashley’s devious secret plot, locked away tight behind lips sealed like vault, never passed her lips.
Ashley always needed to be the strong, confident, and assertive one. Now in her weakness, Ashley needed Kerrigan’s strength. She waited on pins and needles for a reply.
“Of course. I’ll leave in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, Kerri. I’ll see you soon.”
Ashley lay on her sofa, legs propped up on the armrest. She had thrown out her defiled mattress before the trip and hadn’t replaced the soiled love nest yet. She stared at the gaping empty space in her loft that matched the emptiness in her heart.
Kerrigan, who arrived ten minutes prior, hoisted her heels on the sofa table, the way she’d always done during girls’ night, watching chick flicks and talking about their lives and men. Her soft voice soothed Ashley. “Ash, what’s all this talk about you being a terrible human being?” She rested her head back into the sofa.
“I did something terrible to Sebastian.” She eased into the truth. “He… he made me angry and I… I don’t know why,” she stammered. Her hand covered her forehead “I’m tired of men stepping all over me, treating me like I don’t have worth or feelings or dignity.” She grabbed fists full of hair at either side of her head, tossing her head back.
“I know you two got off to a bumpy start, but I thought things with Sebastian improved.”
“That’s just it. Things did improve, considerably until I…” Ashley prolonged her confession. She didn’t want to divulge what she had done.
“I’m sure whatever you did isn’t as bad as you think. Exactly, what happened?”
Ashley released a loud sigh. “I did something awful to Sebastian our last night in the Keys.” She paused to exhale a deep breath. “I handcuffed him to the bed. Early the next morning, I got on the plane knowing he was trapped to that bed, and I left him there, naked.” She hung her head in shame, bracing for a lecture and Kerrigan’s horrified stare that would make her feel as tall as a blade of grass.
To her surprise, Kerrigan burst into a roaring laugh. She leaped up from the sofa, clutching her sides. “You’re joking, right?” She couldn’t stop laughing. “He was naked? Imagine the hotel staff when they found him naked and handcuffed to that bed!” Suddenly, her laughter stopped. “Oh, no! The hurricane! He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know. I tried to call the hotel six different times, but no one answered.”
Kerrigan kneeled down beside Ashley, gently stroking her friend’s arm. “Ash, I’m sure he’s all right. The lines are probably busy or down. We’ll try again in the morning, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, but there’s more.” Ashley sat up, reached for her tablet sitting on the sofa table. She swallowed hard, handing the iPad to Kerrigan. “I read this article on the plane, on the way back to Atlanta.”
Kerrigan’s eyes scanned the article about Sebastian’s wife and his drinking problem. She let out a gasp. Ashley’s stomach knotted. “Ash, this explains everything, his behavior.” She shook her head, her forehead wrinkling. “You didn’t know about this. Maybe if you explain your situation, he’d understand. The similarities…”
Ashley interrupted. “Similarities? Chris didn’t commit suicide,” she defended. She stifled her sob, fighting an emotional outburst. “There were no witnesses to confirm the accident was caused by him or that it was intentional. The only conclusive evidence was the kid whose blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit.” She hated that look on Kerrigan’s face, that poor-little-broken-Ashley-pity-face. Despite the argument that Chris had
with his brother hours before the wreck, Ashley refused to believe that he went through with the threat to kill himself.
Kerrigan didn’t debate her. She never did. “I know. I know,” was all she ever said, and Ashley appreciated her kindness.
Kerrigan stayed with her throughout the night. Ashley didn’t sleep. She watched the hours tick past, minute after minute. If anything happened to Sebastian, she’d never forgive herself.
As soon as the clock read nine o’clock the next morning, Ashley headed to the bathroom for privacy. Kerrigan slept peacefully. She dialed the hotel’s number. Still no answer.
Later that day, after having made at least two dozen or more attempts to call the hotel, she gave up. The news reported no casualties in the Keys, only minimal damage from hurricane Alba. By nine o’clock that evening, exhaustion became her enemy, having not slept in over twenty-four hours. Guilt and determination won, not allowing her rest. She called a final time.
“Hello, Key West Oceanside Resort and Villas.”
Adrenaline jolted her fully conscious. “Hi, I’m looking for the guest in room 114. His name is Sebastian Stone.”
She pressed her ear against the phone, listening. Waited through a long pause on the other end of the phone. Her pulse quickened. A shiver slithered up her spine.
“Please hold a moment. Let me check our records.”
Precisely at the two-minute mark, Ashley lowered the phone, checking that the call didn’t drop. Sixteen seconds later, the woman returned. “I’m sorry. The gentleman has already checked out.”
A gust of air rushed from her lungs. “Mr. Stone checked out? He’s not there?” She waited with eager anticipation for the woman to repeat her words.
“Yes, miss. Mr. Stone is no longer here.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Before Sebastian left Key West, he checked out Maria’s home, making sure of a sound structure. On the flight back, Sebastian couldn’t stop thinking about Ashley and what she did to him. Why? He couldn’t make sense of her actions. He’d let some time pass between them before confronting her. At a minimum, he wanted an explanation. She owed him that. And he owed one to her.
Sebastian glanced at his cell phone’s blank face. He wanted to explain his situation to Stephen. Odd. He called Stephen three times in the past couple of hours and received no answer or returned call. Stephen always returned his calls immediately.
Right now, Sebastian wanted to place both bare feet on his newly refinished hardwood floors. He had just pulled into his driveway when an incoming call announced through his car’s speakers caught him off guard.
“Hello?”
“Sebastian, this is Garrett. Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for the past two days.”
“You know I went to the Keys. Hurricane Alba arrived earlier than expected. I was trapped. I’m pulling into my garage now. What’s wrong? You sound panicked.”
Garrett sighed. “I am panicked. You really should have been at the board meeting.” He paused, took a deep breath. “That snake Stephen convinced the board to vote for your dismissal.”
Sebastian stood at the entry door to his home. His body was numb. His lips pressed into a flat line. “What happened, Garrett? Was there a vote?”
A slow, long sigh echoed in his ear. “Yes. The board voted.” Garrett spoke softly. “Sebastian, where are you?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sebastian’s voice elevated to a near yell. “That asshole convinced the board to fire me! Garrett, don’t tell me I’ve been fired?” Silence. More silence. Sebastian’s hand fell from the doorknob. “Garrett?”
“Sebastian, please don’t do anything rash. Of course, I voted against the motion. So did Walters and Smith.”
Sebastian braced himself, placing his right palm on the wall. He lowered his head, eyes fixed to the concrete floor. “What about Anne? Did she vote to have me fired, too?”
Garrett hesitated. “I believe she did vote for your dismissal, but I don’t know for certain.”
A rush of anger flowed through Sebastian’s insides. Every one-night stand seemed to count against him. “She’s been after me since I broke it off. She shamelessly threw herself at me.” His hand covered his forehead. “This is fucked up.”
“You’ll get a healthy severance agreement, healthcare for three years, your other benefits…”
Cutting him off, “Spare me the goddamn details. I created that shit agreement. I know how this works,” Sebastian said, releasing a labored breath. “Listen, Garrett, I want you to know I appreciate your standing up for me, but I’m not going down without a fight.”
“You let me know what I can do.”
“Thank you, Garrett. If we end up sparring in the courtroom, don’t take it personally.” Inside his home, he paced the hall. “You and I, we built this company from nothing. I won’t let some junior-level, pencil-dick asshole waltz in and steal everything I’ve worked so hard for,” Sebastian yelled.
“You know I’m on your side.” Garrett fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Sebastian, I’m worried about you. Why did you miss the board meeting? You’re not drinking again, are you?”
Sebastian let out a hoarse laugh. “No, I’m not drinking again. I met someone, the first woman I’ve really liked since…” he paused, not finishing the statement. “I missed that meeting because she screwed me over and left me trapped in the Keys until the hurricane passed.”
Garrett spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Ashley Turner will be sorry.”
Their conversation ended. Sebastian sat at the edge of the sofa. Leaned forward, his forearms pressed against his thighs. The contents of his stomach churned, the sick feeling urging him to find consolation. Every manner of thought passed through his mind.
He could see her just as plainly as the Waterford crystal set before him on the sofa table. Ellie’s soft gaze, the way her amber hair shined on a summer’s day. All good memories of happier times before... He opened his eyes, rejoining the present. Neither the past nor the current moment had brought memories he cared to think about now. A deep breath didn’t offer recovery. His hand clamped down. Achy fingers curled the bottle of Evan Williams 23.
The liquid splashed against the sides of the glass until reaching the rim. Just one sip, he thought, eying the tumbler filled with bourbon. Sebastian lifted the glass to his lips. The toasty, charred oak scent singed his nostrils. Eighteen months. Seven weeks. Sixteen days. He glanced at the clock hung above an antique cabinet. Both the large and small hands pointed to the number twelve. He imagined the hands of the clocks rotating in reverse, counterclockwise. If he sipped, he would undo the vow he had made and upheld for all that time. The vow of sobriety.
Courage or strength, whatever the source, found him there on the sofa that evening. Sebastian stood. Eyed the welts around his wrists. Eyed the liquid swishing around in the glass he gripped in his hand. He remembered cleaning up the mess made after hurling a full coffee mug at the hotel room wall. His pitch arm lowered. Instead, he found himself standing over the kitchen sink. A pang struck his chest as gravity sucked the expensive bourbon down the drain, much like the direction of his life.
The clock displayed the time. Three o’clock in the morning. Sebastian kicked the blanket to the floor. A cool sweat coated his skin. He turned to face the other side of the room. Tiny springs prevented his eyelids from shutting. He counted each minute, each second. Restless tossing was his companion that night. This time when he glanced at the clock, the hour displayed said five fifteen. Still his mind raced. Thoughts carried over into the dawning of a new day.
Previous thoughts about becoming a better man were a distant memory. Precisely at five minutes after six that morning, a plan was born. A plan to rise victorious. A plan for revenge.
A surprise greeted her when the elevator doors parted and she stepped into the lobby. Men wearing hard hats and holding clipboards huddled i
n discussion. Work crews dismantled the lobby, ridding the space of the old rickety concierge desk. Two men consulted with a woman who wore a killer suit and the exact pair of Valentino T-strap pumps Ashley stalked for months. Glancing around, she noted fancy architectural renderings and signs mounted on easels.
She stepped over and around debris strewn across the floor and made her way to one of the signs. Studying the poster, she was impressed to learn that the renovations called for significant improvements. A hard tug on the usually jammed door to the leasing office revealed an unrecognizable space. A pretty woman with long, straight red hair welcomed her.
“Good morning, I’m Cassie. How may I help you?”
Cassie was new, her warm smile and friendly handshake a welcome change compared to Mrs. Cranston’s sneer and usual greeting of, “Yeah, what do you want?” or her typical response to maintenance requests that went something like, “Well, did you pay your rent on time?”
“Hi, my name is Ashley. I live in the building. I wanted to find out what I needed to do to break my lease, but…” Ashley glanced around the office, stunned. A fresh coat of paint, new floors, and office furnishings from this century did wonders for the space.
Cassie held out a hand, motioning Ashley to have a seat. “Well, Ashley, I certainly understand your concern considering the prior management company.” Cassie gave the most professional eye roll she had ever seen. “You just missed our new owner. He left a few minutes before you arrived. I’m sure you’ve seen the construction happening over the past couple of weeks.”
Take Me Down (Suits in Pursuit) Page 14