Brielle rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. What is this ‘journey’ you want us to take?” Good. She’d regained her composure and she could think more clearly. Best to just get this meeting over with.
“I’m glad you asked, Peaches,” he replied, reverting to the nickname he’d given her at birth. The sun-kissed color of her hair was as stunning as the beginning rays of a sunset, and it hadn’t changed as she grew older.
She hadn’t been called that in ages, and for one brief moment, she was knocked out of kilter. It was a name of love, of better times. And those days were over.
Brielle pulled herself together and looked back at her father with now-narrowed eyes. “I haven’t been Peaches in fifteen years, Daddy, but if you want to reminisce about the ‘good’ old days, then I’ll go ahead and play your game.”
The tone of her voice seemed to make her father stumble slightly, and Brielle couldn’t help but feel immense guilt. But she couldn’t feel that — wouldn’t feel it. She didn’t love her father anymore. He was just a weak old man, she told herself. He’d been as self-absorbed as the rest of them. Or just work-absorbed.
“I’ve sold the family business. I’ve decided it’s time for a fresh start, and I’ve chosen to do it on the West Coast. There’s nothing in Maine to hold me here any longer, and I’m tired of the tourist season. I’ve just finalized the paperwork on a failing computer tech firm, and I plan to turn it around. Doing that gave me an idea for the five of you.”
Rage simmered in Lance’s eyes. “Can this be reversed?” His voice was strained with the amount of control he had to exert to keep his temper.
“No.” Richard didn’t elaborate.
“The business was supposed to be mine.”
“Then you should have taken pride in it. You should have proved to me that you deserved a stake in the family business. I had hoped to pass it to you one day, but as of right now, you are unworthy to take the reins of any business of mine.”
Crew broke in. “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh, Father?”
“No, I don’t, Crew. And you are no different from your brother Lance. None of you has worked for an honest dollar in so long, I can’t remember when last you did, and I would rather see my funds passed down to people who can appreciate them than leave them to you with the way you’ve been acting. You have time to figure this out — well, time for now, at least.”
“What is that supposed to mean — for now?” Tanner asked.
“Nothing, Tanner. You just need to pay attention. I want you to prove yourselves, make something of your lives. You are more than these spoiled brats I see before me right now.”
“How are we supposed to do anything if we have no money? What do you want us to do to prove ourselves?” Tanner threw his hands into the air in exasperation.
“That’s the smartest question you’ve asked so far,” Richard said with a smile before pausing to gaze at each one of his children. “I’ve purchased five more failing businesses. You can fight amongst yourselves to choose which one you want to run. I’ve created a sufficient budget for you to do what needs to be done to bring the companies back into profitability. If you do this, and do it well, only then will I reinstate your inheritance. If you fail, you will be on your own.”
“Well, what if your idea of a successful business is different from what our idea would be?” Ashton asked.
“When you truly feel success for the first time in your life, you will know what it is. You’ve never earned that badge of honor before. You’ll learn now, one way or the other. I’m done explaining this. You may come see me when you’re ready.”
Setting down the manila folders of the five businesses he’d bought, he looked each of his children in the eye again, then turned to leave the room.
Brielle was fuming, and she refused even to glance over at the folders. What in the hell was her father thinking? She didn’t know how to run a business, let alone make a failing one successful.
This was nothing more than a waste of her time. She flung herself into a deep-cushioned chair. She just wasn’t going to play. But as her brothers walked to the table and began grabbing the folders, she felt her fingers twitching. Did she have any other choice?
Yes, she did. No freaking folder for her.
“I’m out of here,” she said as she stood back up on wobbly legs and began walking to the door.
“Are you sure you want to do that, Brielle?” Lance asked. “Your manicures don’t come cheap.”
Brielle turned on her four-inch heels with fire in her eyes. She was in no way beaten, and she wouldn’t let Lance push her around. She approached her brother with grave determination. When she was standing only inches from his face, she lifted her hand and poked a sharp fingernail against his chest.
“Don’t worry about me, big brother. I have my own ideas.”
Lance didn’t bother replying, and Brielle was battling strong emotions. Not good. Feigning indifference, she sauntered to the door and pushed her way through it.
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
Chapter One
One year later
Brielle took deep breaths and watched the floor numbers click higher and higher. Why was she in Seattle? And why was she here to beg? Because she’d run out of options.
She’d really thought she would be fine on her own. She’d worked in a retail shop in a mall in Washington D.C., thrilled to leave Maine behind, even though it had meant also leaving her beloved condo and moving into a tiny studio apartment. But the place she’d been working had gone out of business, and she couldn’t get another job to save her life. She’d sold off most of what she owned to make the move, but the whole “adventure” had bought her only a little time — a year, to be exact.
So here she was, in her father’s new office building. No, she wasn’t the master of her fate, but she was still unbowed. More precisely, she was more than ticked off. If Richard thought he’d earn back his place in her heart by forcing her hand, he was dead wrong. What he had done was manipulative and degrading. Yes, she was ticked, but beyond that she was showing the first inklings of real fear.
Upon reaching the top floor, she stopped breathing as the doors opened onto a beautiful lobby. It was smaller than her dad’s executive office space on the East Coast, but it was just as classy, and the same secretary he’d had for the past twenty years was sitting behind a huge mahogany desk.