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As something of a peace offering, I’m eager to brag about Lennox’s quick cunning with the Luxe Adventure cruise solution. “Lennox, would you like to tell the team about your plans to reestablish Luxe Adventure?” I nudge her shoulder.
She clears her throat and leans forward like she’s speaking into a mic on a witness stand. “No, thank you. It’s probably best you explain.”
Okay, so everyone is uncomfortable. It’s normal with a shift in leadership. It’ll be fine. I had the same fears after Grandma’s funeral, and I wasn’t sure how my new team felt about me.
“Obviously, this is completely confidential, and we’ll follow up with more details, but Lennox inspired the idea of drawing in a new source of revenue by using our upcoming itineraries as ticketed concert experiences. We’re partnering with some artists from Visionary Record Labels, and I’d love to see marketing concepts in A/B testing by?—”
“We have an idea as well,” Dean Walsh, Hessler Group’s COO, says. “Sorry to interrupt, but if you don’t mind, we all got together and found a loophole we wanted to run by you.”
I raise my eyebrows. I’m not exactly the tyrannical type of leader, but since when does my team eagerly talk over me whenI’m making an announcement for a new endeavor that I expect them to see through?
“Okay, go for it.” I lean back in my seat. “Are you presenting?” I ask Dean.
Dean smooths his hands over the top of his hair. “Um,” he says, glancing across the table, “It was kind of a group discovery. Does anybody else want to hop in?”
The room is silent, and now the nervous throat-clearing and awkward exchanges of looks are starting to irritate me.
“Somebody speak up…now.”
“Dean, you brought it up. Go ahead,” Hank barks out. I’m also relieved that Hank, our most senior advisor, is in the room. He’s the closest thing I have to a mentor. He was Grandpa’s close advisor, then Grandma’s…now mine.
“Hank, what’s going on?” I ask.
He turns his attention to Lennox. “Mrs. Hessler, it is a pleasure to meet you. May I offer you the warmest welcome to Hessler Group. How incredibly rude of us not to begin with that.” He glances around the table, throwing dirty looks like daggers at several advisors and executives. “Please understand that I have nothing to do with, nor want anything to do with the bullshit that Walsh is about to spew.”
Another rumble of disapproving grunts and mumbles surfaces and by now my patience is completely gone. I slam my fist on the table in a fashion similar to my grandpa when he was agitated. “Get to it,” I snap, making Lennox jump beside me.
Dean nervously blurts out, “We found a loophole. After we saw the um…article from BuzzLit and discovered you were married, we kind of figured based on the contents of the article that perhaps the newest Mrs. Hessler wouldn’t feel she was the best fit for leadership at the company.”
Lennox’s eyes lift, a glint of irritation in the corner of her eye. Dean struck a nerve. She hasn’t said a word thus far, but now shespeaks up. “You don’t even know me, and you’re going to make assumptions about how I feel?”
Dean looks at me expectantly, but he must be confused as to where my loyalty lies.
“That article was outrageously exaggerated,” I say calmly. “It exploited a very private conversation. Surely, you’re not trying to ostracize my wife based on a pathetic gossip column.”
“That’s exactly what they’re doing,” Hank grumbles.
“Hank, please. You’re the only one in disagreement.” With a sharp exhale, Dean continues, “There’s a clause in the company policy that if the stakeholders can prove illegal activity by the CEO within the company, we can dismiss them from their position. The majority shares will default to the next eligible Hessler heir…” He gestures to me with an open palm. “Hence, you.”
“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but I haven’t committed any crimes,” Lennox says defensively.
“But your father has,” another exec, Jensen adds. “It wouldn’t be so farfetched. The apple not falling too far from the tree.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Lennox’s voice drops to an icy whisper.
I inhale and exhale, feeling my temper bubbling back up to the surface. Before I can speak, Dean hops in to clarify. “We’re not suggesting Mrs. Hessler is already involved with any wrongdoings. Sorry for the misunderstanding,” he says, shooting a nasty look at Jensen. Everyone is tense, fighting amongst themselves and apparently attempting to stage a coup against my family. “We’re simply suggesting that if Mrs. Hessler would sign an affidavit admitting to something along the lines of embezzlement, bribery, any sort of fraud, with your status, she’d get a little slap on the wrist from the SEC, if that. No realconsequences, and then it’d absolve the ownership issue we’re having. You could take your place as CEO.”
“She could stop embarrassing the company and risking all our jobs,” Jensen adds.
My normally feisty, quick-with-a-rebuttal wife has her head hung and for the first time in my entire time knowing Lennox, I see her cry. A single tear drips down her cheek and she makes no move to remove it. I watch it cradle her cheek and fall onto the table, leaving a tiny splash mark. Another joins it. Then another. I clench my jaw as my stomach twists. The heat rises in my body.
“Jensen,” I ask, “what’s biting you in the ass right now?”
He shakes his head. “We’ve all worked really hard to get to where we are. We plan on retiring comfortably here. None of us want to see this company take a nosedive because of Dottie’s lack of good judgment in her late age. We’ve all been thinking it since the reading of the will, and we’re trying to protect you, Dex. This is a solution and nobody wants to see Mrs. Hessler hurt. But even with a record, she’ll be fine. Unlike us, she’ll never need to actually work again.”
Jensen pulls out a manilla folder and passes it down person by person until it lands in front of me. “Here’s one option. That’s an admission for Mrs. Hessler to sign, saying she established an offshore account. Just a couple million dollars taken under accounting’s nose and put into a private holding. All just staged. We can bury the documentation. No one outside this room has to know, but it’ll serve the purpose of the necessary legalities for the transfer of ownership. We could be done with this today?—”
“Enough,” I interrupt. I glance over the document and I’m further enraged. Part of me was hoping this was some sort of twisted hazing and somebody was about to jump out and say “Just kidding,” then proceed to give Lennox the proper welcome she deserves. But no. This document is boilerplate, and at the bottom…a line ready for her signature.