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I knew it didn’t make any sense to him, but this was important to me. I didn’t live in a world of windfall inheritances. If I left this job and Mark Williams ended up being a scam, what was I left with? Nothing—that is what I would have.
He seemed to sense my indecision. “I am sorry. I don’t need to rush you. It’s only that there is so much to do and we only have thirty days. The longer we spend here, the less time you have to acclimate and prove yourself worthy of the inheritance.”
“Who do I have to prove myself to?”
Mark seemed uncomfortable. “Well, the board of directors will vote on it, but the CEO has the final say.”
Something about what he said rang a bell for me. “The CEO of Sutton Enterprises?”
He nodded slowly.
“Wouldn’t that be you?” I asked, feeling unsure.
He blew out an exasperated breath. “I can’t in good conscience tell the board that you will be coming on unless I truly believe that you can handle the responsibilities. We have hundreds of employees that need their jobs as well as thousands of clients that expect the highest standard that we can give them. I need to make sure that when I give my recommendation to the board, I am doing what is best for the company.”
I could feel the fire and devotion that he had for the business. I wondered how much of that was because of my father. Hollingsworth Sutton, a man that I never knew. I wondered what his story had been with my mother. Had he been one of her clients, or something more? There were so many questions about this new future, and not many answers.
I nodded slowly. “Okay, I can be ready as soon as possible. But I will need to do some things. This might not seem like anything to you, Mark. But there are people that depend on me here as well.”
He nodded as well. “I can understand and respect that.”
Impulsively, I moved toward him and took his hand in my own. “Shall we shake on it?”
His smile widened until it reached his eyes. “Of course. Here is to a wonderful new future.”
He didn’t say it, but the wordtogetherseemed to linger after his last statement.
I moved to pull away, but he didn’t release my hand. Instead he pulled me forward and kissed the side of my cheek. “Thank you for allowing me to stay the night and for cleaning up my cuts.”
I blushed wildly and waved him off. “It was nothing. Please don’t worry a moment about it. Let’s go out to the kitchen.”
When we entered the kitchen, Martha was sitting at the table with a nasty expression on her face. Ignoring whatever insult she slung at me under her breath, I began to mix up some pancakes. Earl chattered on about the Little League championships and Mark sat there looking like the one thing that didn’t belong at my table.
Martha sniffed in disgust. “There is too much sugar in this batter, Sutton. I swear you are trying to give me the diabetes!”
I tried to give her a sunny smile and not contemplate yanking the plate out of the death grip that she had on it. The woman was all piss and vinegar. Mama said that one day I would come to understand Martha.
Can I just officially say today was not that day. With a calm I didn’t feel, I replied, “Martha, I used the same pancake recipe that you gave me ages ago. Do you want me to try something new?”
Martha harrumphed, “It’s this syrup, I don’t think it’s light!”
“You don’t have to eat here,” Earl grumbled as he took the third pancake and smothered it with syrup.
Mark laughed. I think it surprised him just as much as the rest of us. I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face when Earl joined in. Martha sat there with her usual sour expression, cutting her pancakes to bits. It didn’t matter how much she complained about them. I knew she liked my food because she always ate everything I served her.
“So,” Martha turned to Mark and asked, “are you going to shack up with this hussy?”
Mark stared at her without replying. Eventually, Martha turned back to her plate. It really was a beautiful thing to see someone put the woman in her place.
“Don’t talk about Sutton that way,” Earl grumbled. “You are just a crazy old bat. Sutton’s a good girl that takes care of her elders.”
Martha slammed down her fork. “Well, I never!”
Earl snorted. “Don’t I know it.”
Deciding to intervene before they really started fighting, I asked, “Would you like some more coffee, Martha? Or maybe some orange juice?”
Martha scowled before answering. “Normally I wouldn’t want to impose, but I will take some coffee. It’s not as good as the kind I make, but it will have to do.”