Leaning back in his leather desk chair, Mal inhaled deeply and stretched his back to relieve the tight pain in his chest, the ache spreading up into his neck.
He massaged the back of his neck with his thick fingers in a bid to reduce the discomfort, but it was to no avail. This horrible suffocating pain was occurring more and more frequently, no doubt triggered by the recent stress.
Mal frowned. He didn’t want a two-bit outfit such as the Aurora attempting to step on his toes and interfering with anything to do with his casino. Not that he knew much about the place, short of, by all accounts, it was one of those seedy, shitty places with few morals and even less organisation.
‘Are you all right, Dad?’ Gary asked, his face awash with concern, watching his father’s face twist with pain.
‘What? Oh yes, yes, I’m fine,’ Mal replied, relaxing a little as the discomfort started to ebb away. ‘Just tense, that’s all.’
‘You should see a doctor if you’re having problems,’ Gary continued, ignoring the warning looks from Andrew and Neil.
‘Since when does anyone need to see a quack because of a bit of fucking stress?’ Mal barked, knowing he was getting on the defensive, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t let on to any of his sons that he was worried over the increasing amount of breathlessness and pain. He didn’t have time to be ill – not while random scrotes were digging around his patches. ‘And where’s Sebastian?’ he snapped. ‘I wanted the lowdown on what happened at the Orchid. Did he call any of you last night?’ He frowned at the general shake of heads around the room.
‘Seb probably pulled and is still otherwise engaged!’ Neil winked in Andrew’s direction. ‘I know I would have!’
‘I think you’ll find that wasn’t the reason for my attendance,’ Seb said bluntly as he walked into his father’s office, shutting the door loudly behind him. ‘Although there were many delectable ladies present, I was distracted by what I heard…’
Mal folded his arms. ‘I’m not interested in idle gossip. All I want to know is whether you got my message to Reynold. Are we having a meet or what?’
Seb eyed his father carefully. ‘Yes, message delivered to Maynard. He said he would pass it on.’
‘I take it you didn’t see Reynold yourself?’ Mal asked.
‘I saw Reynold, but not to speak to. He was too busy…’ Seb continued, amused.
Mal sighed. ‘If you’ve got a point to make then just bloody make it, will you?’ he snapped, rubbing at his neck once more.
Seb grinned. ‘This “idle gossip”, as you so succinctly put it, is that Reynold has broken with tradition by making his daughter heir of his business.’
A heavy silence fell in the room, the men exchanging surprised glances.
Mal rolled his eyes. ‘Where did you hear this pearl of wisdom?’
‘Reynold himself.’ Seb raised one eyebrow cockily.
Mal sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his chin in confusion. ‘Reynold has handed his business to his daughter? Are you sure?’
‘That’s what he said and, being as he announced it over the mic, it was pretty clear. A birthday surprise for Samantha, apparently.’
Mal shook his head in bemusement, then his eyebrows knitted together. Reynold only having the one kid, the girl, wasn’t much use where firms like theirs came to pass, so it was always assumed Maynard would inherit the reins when it was time. ‘Reynold is retiring?’
Seb shook his head. ‘Not any time soon. He made that clear.’
Andrew blew through his teeth. ‘Well, that will be a turn-up for the books, if it ever comes to pass that is. I wonder what Maynard thinks about this?’
‘From what I saw, he wasn’t best pleased, but it’s no skin off our nose,’ Seb grinned. ‘In fact, the sooner Reynold retires, the better. If a woman with no experience of the industry is holding the reins, we’re bound to increase our sway. For us it will be a win-win situation.’
The shrill bell of Mal’s desk phone punctuated the general mumblings. Picking the receiver up, he motioned his sons to silence. ‘Malcolm Stoker. Oh, hello Len…’ He glanced up, all four pairs of his sons’ eyes now watching intently. ‘Yes, that’s right… of course – that’s fine with me… Yep, sure… Okay, I’ll see you then.’
Replacing the receiver, Mal smiled. ‘That’s the meet arranged. The day after tomorrow at eight.’
Seb nodded. Standing up, he moved to the door. ‘Unless there’s anything else, I’m off to get news on our latest shipment.’
Mal watched his eldest son leave the office and ignored the background chatter as the lively debate about how Reynold’s decision was doomed to failure continued. Although Len Reynold must have his reasons for wanting his daughter in charge, Mal didn’t know what they were. And to announce it yesterday, of all days?
As well as being Samantha’s birthday, yesterday was also the anniversary of the drive-by that had killed Len’s business partner, Jimmy Maynard – shot through the head at the traffic lights near the Five Ways roundabout. He’d been driving Len’s car to pick up Samantha to bring her to the casino for her eighteenth birthday. No one ever drove Len’s Daimler, apart from Len.
Nobody claimed the shooting and nothing else followed either. There seemed to be no connection to Jimmy, Len or the casino and the general word was that it was a mistake, but Mal wasn’t so sure.
Although feared, the Reynolds were respected and well-liked. The only person to gain from Jimmy’s removal was his son and John Maynard had quickly stepped into his father’s shoes, becoming Len Reynold’s new right-hand man. It became clear to all that he would inherit the spoils when it was time, but now had that changed?
Sam stared out of the window along Corporation Street. Even though the window of her office was on the first floor, the angle of her desk allowed her a decent vista all the way up towards the junction with New Street and she absentmindedly watched executives, shop workers and shoppers making up the steady throng of people milling about, going about their business.
Approaching midday, it was getting busy, and with a jolt Sam realised she had achieved very little today, despite having arrived at work early. Her attention kept diverting from the job in hand to something – anything – that needed no questions and no answers.
Forcing herself to turn back to her large screen, she stared at the graphic she’d been working on, confident it had been perfect, yet now there was something not right with it. A bit like several other things…
Grabbing her mouse, Sam selected the background image of her graphic and played with the opacity levels. Still not right…
Shoving her mouse to one side in frustration, she fought against the urge to drag her fingers through her carefully styled hair. How could she concentrate with what had happened?
If her father announcing she was to inherit his business was supposed to be a surprise, it certainly had been. And not a good one. What was the point in working on anything if the dreams of her design business were futile? Her father’s gift of passing his business to her was a death knell for her hopes.
Sam sighed, hoping last night her face hadn’t given away her true feelings. She thought she’d concealed it well enough, but how long could she keep that up? She’d never been anything but honest with her father, but now she was being forced to pretend this change in circumstances pleased her?
It was no good. She would have to break the news to him. As much as she appreciated the sentiment, not to mention the honour that he thought her capable of running his business, the plain truth was, she didn’t want it.
Sam’s heart was and always had been set on reaching the top of her game in the graphic design industry and she was very nearly there.
Her face fell. She didn’t want to hurt her father or appear ungrateful. Both her parents were fantastic, but whether she liked it or not, she just couldn’t take up this offer. Aside from her heart not being in it, she knew nothing about that side of things and furthermore, didn’t particularly want to…
But her father would be upset – his gesture was meant as an honour. Sam knew enough about his business to know that handing the reins to a woman was not the done thing – that’s why she’d never spent a second’s thought thinking it would ever be something put on her. And that had always been a relief.
Sam reached for her mouse and was about to attempt further manipulation of the graphic when her phone rang. She irritably snatched up the receiver. ‘Sam Reynold.’
‘Hello, beautiful!’ Liam said brightly. ‘Fancy a spot of lunch? We can go to that nice deli place you like up Temple Row? I’ll meet you at…’
‘I can’t do lunch today,’ Sam interrupted, her tone sharp. As much as she wanted some fresh air, she couldn’t cope with Liam gushing about her good fortune.
‘Oh…’ Liam’s voice was thick with disappointment. ‘Are you busy with meetings?’
‘Just busy!’ Sam snapped. Now she had to explain why she couldn’t do lunch? Liam was not her keeper and never would be. Belatedly realising she was being unfair, she softened the blow. ‘I’m running behind on a work deadline.’
‘Ah, okay. I understand,’ Liam said, placated. ‘How about after work then? Dinner?’
Sam inwardly sighed. It wasn’t like she could tell him of her concerns regarding her father’s expectations. He wouldn’t understand. Liam would probably love to be in her shoes, but sadly that wasn’t an option. ‘I’m sorry, but I really haven’t time at the moment. I’ve got things I need to sort out,’ she said, trying desperately to keep the irritation out of her voice.
‘What could be more important than having dinner with me?’ Liam pushed, a mischievous note to his voice.
‘Like I said, not tonight. Look, I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up soon, okay?’ Quickly replacing the receiver before Liam could continue, Sam frowned, her skin tingling with annoyance.
Liam was getting full on with his attentions again and she could do without the hassle – especially now.
Reaching for her bag, Sam slipped on her jacket and left her office, locking the door behind her. Since she’d been promoted, she’d moved from the open-plan layout to a separate office. At first, she’d missed the chat and bouncing ideas off her colleagues, but now she welcomed the silence and lack of distraction. Well, she had until this latest incident or when the phone rang with Liam on the other end…
Pursing her lips, she slipped down the corridor to take the stairs to the reception area and the street outside; for now, all she wanted was fresh air.