Chapter Twelve

It was a typical wet April day in Boston, but nasty weather failed to keep the press from showing up. Finn got out of the car and brought an umbrella around for Beverly. She tried for graceful debutante when she rose from the limo and offered the press a regal smile. As Finn had coached, she stopped halfway to the huge glass doorway of Winslow Holdings.

She ignored the constant shouts and huge zoom lens cameras shoved at her as she wasn’t used to attention of this type. She didn’t need to let them know that fact.

Suddenly an idea came to her. Back when she was in captains’ school and the other candidates had tried to get in her head, she’d played a game. She’d pretended she already was a captain and lives depended on her. This was no different. Lives did depend on this. She channeled her inner captain and faced the press.

“I understand you are here because it was leaked there would be an announcement regarding the Winslow inheritance. I can confirm that to be true at this time. Unfortunately, I can’t say anything more until all parties arrive.” She smiled and walked away, ignoring the shouts demanding her attention.

Finn leaned down and whispered, “Nicely done. They think you’re the family spokesperson, not the heir to the throne.”

“I am the family spokesperson from now on. It isn’t good business to let others speak for you.” She shrugged. “Besides, my experience with the press is nil, but seems to me I’ll need them on my side if Serena makes this public.”

He held the door for her and shook the umbrella closed. “Very smart and way savvier than you led me to believe. You were terrified in the helicopter on the way here.”

“I am still terrified,” she said. “Doesn’t mean everyone needs to know it.”

She focused on her breathing in order to still the frogs jumping in her stomach. If he could tell she was terrified, would the board notice? She needed this to go off without issue. People could lose their jobs if the stock prices bottomed out, and she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if that happened. Maintaining the status quo was important to these people. After reading over the paperwork last night, she knew there were more than a thousand people counting on whoever took over Winslow Holdings. She wouldn’t let them down.

As she entered the huge atrium of the building she was about to own, she tried not to gape. A stunning green, glass, tiled waterfall towered in the center. The color reminded her of the ocean water on a cloudy day. Security scanners and uniformed guards helmed the desk nearby. They might be less imposing if they wore suits instead of uniforms. She put the thought aside. Changes like that were a long way off.

As they reached the reception desk, her palms were drenched. “Beverly Winslow,” she forced the smile. “I have a ten fifteen in the main conference room.”

The lovely receptionist with black hair and deep brown eyes gulped and stammered, “Y-Yes, Ms. Winslow. I’ll call up now.” Her name tag read Melanie and she gave Bev furtive glances as she picked up the phone.

A small woman with iron-gray hair and square-frame black glasses appeared from a door built into the wall behind reception. Wearing a severely cut suit the color of raisins, she extended her hand. “My name is Irene Garrett, Ms. Winslow. I was Mr. Winslow’s personal assistant for the last thirty years.” This was delivered with little emotion, just the facts.

Bev shook her hand. She guessed this woman knew just about everything about Winslow Holdings. “You must be excellent at your job, Ms. Garrett. From what I’ve heard of Reginald, he had extremely high expectations.”

Irene gave a slight nod at this. “Your grandfather demanded the best from people.”

She nearly flinched at the use of the word grandfather. She would never call him that.

Irene interrupted her thoughts. “I’m to take you to the conference room on the executive floor. As per Mr. Callahan’s instructions, the board will be here in one hour.” Irene faced Finn. “Mr. Callahan, your assistant has preceded your arrival, and everything is as you wished.”

After Ms. Garrett turned toward the main elevators, discreetly tucked behind the waterfall, Bev looked at him and widened her eyes. “That is what you call no-nonsense.”

He winked. “I keep expecting her to take out a ruler and threaten corporal punishment. Though, she is probably the most organized person I’ve met. Reginald was never late and always prepared. When you run something this huge, I don’t care how good you are, you need help. I assume that terrifying woman had quite a bit to do with his success.”

Both of them shut up as they caught up to the assistant, waiting for them at the elevators. Of the four elevators available, one was under repair. Ms. Garrett inclined her head. “That elevator will be repaired before noon today, Ms. Winslow.”

“Okay.” Why had she shared the information unless she knew Bev was the heir? Granted, it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was here for a reason. Perhaps Reginald’s former assistant knew everything? It wouldn’t surprise her if her grandfather had prepared her for this eventuality

They rode the elevator in silence, the three of them facing the cloudy, mirrored doors. She wondered if Irene was worried about her job. That reminded her of the huge responsibility she was about to take on. This wasn’t like running Atlantic Charters. The sheer size of Winslow Holdings was enough to overwhelm Atlas.

She knew the basic tenets of good business. Budgets, acquisitions, and how to manage people. But comparing her little business to Winslow Holdings was like comparing a Jet Ski to an ocean liner.

The elevator doors popped open on the executive level. She had no idea how many floors the building had, but they landed at the penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows with harbor views lined the perimeter of the huge circle, with the elevators at the center. Instead of a typical office floor with cubicles and busy employees at their monitors, the executive floor seemed to be made entirely of glass.

The offices were private. They were enclosed with glass walls and doors, but that’s where the privacy ended. She assumed Reginald wanted it this way, so he could monitor his soldiers. She might be wrong, though. The views of Boston and the harbor were stunning enough for most designers to leave out the obstructions. Either way, she liked it…which surprised her.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the conference room,” Ms. Garrett pointed down a corridor.

They followed her to a room with a huge glass table. Two offices were situated on either side, separated by the glass walls. A woman in one office openly stared at them. Bev gave her a little nod.

Naturally, people would wonder about her. As Ms. Garrett held open the glass door for them, they entered. At one end of the room was a teak table holding coffee service and a tray of Danish. At the other end of the room was an identical table with nothing on it. There were few adornments and no artwork on the walls, but she thought the place could use a plant or two.

“Ms. Winslow, Mr. Callahan, please make yourselves comfortable. I’ll send in your assistant, Mr. Callahan.”

“Thank you, Ms. Garrett. We will need you as the second witness.” He tossed his briefcase to a chair. Ms. Garrett said nothing and took her leave.

He touched her arm. “How are you holding up?”

“I feel fine.”

“How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

“Did you take another pain pill?”

“No.”

“OK…so we’re doing one-word answers? Must be a nerves thing.” He poured her a glass of water.

“I don’t want to be fuzzy for this fiasco,” she crossed her arms. “I don’t want to be here in the first place, but that’s moot. So, I’m not going to look like a flaky idiot, too looped on Vicodin to handle the job.”

He handed her the glass. His tawny eyes filled with understanding. She told herself to focus on the moment and forget about the handsome lawyer. She tried to explain her concerns again to him.

“I mean, no one can possibly fathom how much his or her life will change when faced with this much money,” Bev paced. “And the press and attention. If that welcoming committee outside was any indication, I’m definitely not ready to deal with the loss of anonymity.”

She put the glass down without drinking. “I can look at most situations logically and make informed decisions. The problem here is I haven’t been given the choice. The decisions are made for me. I’m not sure I’ll get past that.”

“I’m here to help.”

“I appreciate it, I do. It’s just all too huge. Too much. I’m not sure I can do it.”

“I told you from the beginning this wouldn’t be how I would handle it, but your grandfather was rogue. He chose you for a reason. All I can do is help where I can, all the while wishing I hadn’t foisted this on you. I just want you safe more than anything.”

Yet again, his words took her by surprise. She had spent quite a bit of the sleepless night before thinking about her predicament. The rest of the night, she thought of Finn. He was so far out of her league it was scary. Christ, she had Googled him. Finn Callahan’s family didn’t disown daughters or entertain the masses with public inheritances and scandal.

His family used their fortune for good. His mother headed up the family foundation and spent her days giving away millions of dollars. Conversely, her mother had spent most of Bev’s childhood grieving for a family that didn’t want her and neglecting her only child in the process.

His father owned the largest import business in the Northeast. Her father had conned his way into jail, twice. Lovely pedigree. He was everything she wasn’t: polished, sophisticated, and charming. Everything she needed to be for the job before her. She didn’t even own another suit. She didn’t even know how to shop for another suit.

Yet sometimes he looked at her as no one had. She’d decided last night she could handle most things, even this inheritance. But Finn Callahan was a complication she was having a hard time simplifying. He didn’t behave like most men she knew. She knew his concern for her was genuine, but it had to be because he was a nice guy and her attorney. It didn’t mean anything more.

“I appreciate having someone like you in my corner,” she said, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket. “I don’t blame you for foisting this on me.”

“Thanks. Having you as a client is a hell of lot better than Reginald.”

“How so?”

“Reginald was an ass, and you’re not.”

She snorted at his blunt answer.

He shook his head. “Seriously, you’re more open, but just as direct. I can tell you’re the type of person who gets things done. Reginald did too, but without any regard for who it might affect. He didn’t care about people the way you do. And there is the added bonus of you being much prettier than Reginald.” He wagged his brows.

“Well, that’s something.”

He had a way of lightening the mood just when she needed him to. And he was sexy as hell. What was she supposed to do with him?