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“Get in the closet!”
For once, I didn’t argue. I grabbed my purse off the desk and dove behind the shuttered doors. I couldn’t imagine a worse possible thing to happen at a worse possible moment. Tom was beside himself. And rightly so. If I was caught in here...it could mean the end of us both. While Tom wouldn’t technically get fired as I surely would, he would never be the same in his father’s eyes. His decade of work for the company would go up in smoke.
I watched Tom race around the room, half-tripping across the carpet to hide my purse.
“One—one second, Dad,” he called. I stood up on my toes to get a better view as he took a second to compose himself, then walked purposely to the door, pulling it open and stepping back respectfully to allow his father inside.
I’d seen Abe Larchwood on the cover of magazines since I was about six years old. But I don’t think that any amount of time or preparation could ever get me used to seeing him in person just walking into a room. He had a way of commanding authority about him that was almost impossible to describe. Everyone felt it. From kings and diplomats to the resort bus-boy.
To his very own son, apparently. I had never seen Tom look like this in his life.
He’d pulled on a shirt and some loose pajama bottoms, but his hair was still thoroughly tousled, and the accompanying guilt was written all over his face. His father didn’t seem to notice this though. Or maybe—from everything I’d been able to imply over several months of observations and throwaway lines—he didn’t know his son well enough to notice.
“Tom, you look like a mess.” Abe’s voice was even deeper than his son’s. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all,” Tom said quickly.
He seemed to be having trouble figuring out what to do with his hands. Everything about his father set him on edge. From the way Abe’s eyes swept over the room with cold precision, to the way he sat down on the only possible chair—leaving Tom to sit like a misbehaving child on the bed.
He smoothed out the comforter and took a seat, trying to pull himself together. “What can I do for you?”
Rather formal way to talk to your own father.
Abe, however, seemed to think it was appropriate. “I came here to tell you something that you’re not going to like.”
Tom braced himself, but Abe took his time. I got the feeling he relished seeing his son sweat it out.
“Tom, I’ve decided to retire within the next year.”
My heart leapt in my chest, and I almost squealed aloud behind the closet doors. How was that bad news?! Tom had been waiting for this moment for the last five years. The day when he’d finally get officially handed the reins of the company he’d been basically running anyway.
Tom’s eyebrows shot up, but he held it together, not saying a word as he waited for the other shoe to drop. Apparently, his father was never sweet without at least a little sour.
“...and I’m undecided as to my successor.”
A lot of sour!
How could he not be sure as to his successor? Who else would it be?! Macer’s new Beagle?! My mouth fell open in silent rage, and I glared through the slots in the closet. Everyone from the Attorney General to the paperboy down the street knew that Tom would be taking over his father’s company. It had been written in the stars since he was born, but even so, no one I knew had ever worked harder for something in his life.
Abe may be the founder and CEO, but Tom was Larchwood. That’s just the way it was.
I had to give him credit—he kept his composure, only the slight tightening of his jaw giving away his unease. “Who are you considering?”
Abe paused a moment before saying, “Well it’s either you or your brother, of course.”
Michael?!
“Michael?” This time, Tom mirrored my thoughts. “How can you possibly be considering Michael?”
“Do not speak ill of your brother,” Abe warned sternly. “He’s very smart when he wants to be.”
“I’m not, it’s just...” Tom ran his hands through his hair. “How can he be a serious consideration? With his history? His record? His...disinterest? Why do you think Michael would even want to be CEO?”
Abe’s eyes glimmered in the darkness. It was different than Tom’s sly sparkle or Michael’s mischievous twinkle...it was something mean. “You think he won’t?”
For the first time, Tom paused, uncertain. Yes, Michael had admitted very openly that the world of finance was not his particular brand of vodka, so to speak, but if he was offered the job on a silver platter...? That was a different thing entirely.
“And as for Michael’s past mistakes, they’re just that—in the past,” Abe continued. “I’m not going to hold him accountable for things he did years ago. He was young.”
“I was young,” Tom’s eyes flashed, “and I never did half the things that Michael did. I didn’t even come close.”
“Nobody’s perfect, Tom. You might want to consider that before you start casting stones.”
Tom sighed. “I know that, and I’m not casting stones, it’s just... This job is mine.”
His anger had finally broken free, and he said the last few words with the same fiery passion I’d heard on conference calls. The same passion that got the job done.
“Careful, Tom.” Abe’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Lest you forget, the job is actually mine.” Tom dropped his eyes submissively, and he continued. “I have a little competition in mind, a fair way to decide this once and for all. I’ll announce it at the banquet tomorrow, but I wanted to give you a head’s up tonight.” His thin lips turned up in a hard smile. “As a thank you, for all your hard years of service.”
Without even a ‘goodnight,’ he was out the door, shutting it loudly behind him as Tom blinked at the chair where he’d been sitting in shock. When I was sure he wasn’t coming back in, I slowly ventured out of the closet, putting a soft hand on Tom’s knee and staring tentatively up at this face. I had never seen him so pale, so shaken, and yet—so fiercely determined.
“Are you...” I began hesitantly. “Are you alright?”
He looked up suddenly as if surprised I was there. “I’m fine. We should both get some rest, Jenna. We don’t want anyone to find you in here...”
Taking my cue, I gathered up my things in silence and headed for the door. Before I opened it, I paused in the frame and turned around.
“Goodnight, Tom,” I said quietly.
I don’t even think he heard me.