his speech. “I know you don’t want to accept what I’m telling you, and of course you’re free to get a second opinion, but my recommendation will stand. And I will take it to the board if I have to. If you don’t make some major and immediate changes to your lifestyle then you’re a stroke or a heart attack just waiting to happen. I’m going to make sure you get to live to the ripe old age of seventy, like me,” Dr. Nelson ended, chuckling.
Bas rolled his eyes heavenward. “What if I take two weeks off?” he asked, deciding to try and work a deal.
“You need at least three months.”
“What about a month, Doc? I promise to give KFC a break and lay off the fried chicken, and I promise—”
“Three months, Bas. You actually need at least six but I’m willing to settle for three. At the end of that time you’ll thank me.”
Bas snorted before walking out the door. He seriously doubted it.
“Your brothers are here to see you, Mr. Steele.”
Bas frowned, wondering what they wanted. Just as he’d known they would, they had bought into Dr. Nelson’s recommendation as though it had been the gospel according to St. John. He was thankful his brothers had given him a week to tie up loose ends around the office instead of the two days Dr. Nelson had suggested.
He stood, crossing his arms over his chest, when the three walked in. There was Chance, who at thirty-seven was the oldest Steele brother and CEO of the corporation. Then came Morgan who was thirty-three and the head of the Research and Development Department. Donovan, at thirty, was in charge of Product Administration. Of the three, Chance was the only one married.
“I take it that you’re still not excited about taking time off?” Chance said, dipping his hands in his pockets and leaning against the closed door. “But even I knew you were becoming a workaholic, Bas. You need a life.”
Bas glared. “When did you become an expert in my needs?”
“Calm down, Bas,” Morgan said, sensing a heated argument brewing between his two older brothers. “Chance is right and you know it. You’ve been spending too much time here. Time away from this place is what you need.”
“And I’m backing them up,” Donovan said, crossing his arms over his own chest. “Hell, I wish someone would give me three months away from here. I’d haul ass in a second and not look back. Just think of the things you can do in three months, all the women you can—”
“I’m sure he has more productive things planned,” Chance interrupted Donovan. Bas figured his eldest brother knew just where Donovan was about to go. But Chance’s other assumption was dead wrong. Bas didn’t have anything planned. Before he could voice that thought, there was a knock at the door.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Steele, but this just arrived by way of a courier and it looks important,” his secretary said.
Bas took the envelope she handed to him and frowned, noting the return address. An attorney in Newton Grove, Tennessee. Seeing the name of the city suddenly brought back memories of a summer he would never forget, and of the man who had turned the life of a troubled young man completely around.
He ripped into the letter and began reading. “Damn.”
“Bas, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Bas glanced up and met his brothers’ worried, yet curious expressions. “Jim Mason has died.”
Although his brothers had never met Jim, they recalled the name. They also knew what impact Jim Mason had had on Bas. While he was growing up, Bas’s reputation for getting into trouble was legendary and he dropped out of college, deciding to go off and see the world. Sebastian had met Jim when he’d been around twenty-one. In fact, the older man had gotten Bas out of a tight jam when Bas had stopped at a tavern in some small Georgia town for a cold beer and ended up getting into a fight with a few roughnecks. Jim, who’d been passing through the same town after taking his two daughters to their aunt in Florida for the summer, had stopped the fight and had also saved Bas from going to jail after the owner of the tavern accused him of having started the brawl.
Jim had offered to pay for any damages and then advised Bas he could pay him back by working for his construction company over the summer. Having been raised to settle all his debts, Bas had agreed and had ended up in the small town of Newton Grove.
That summer Jim had taught Bas more than how to handle a hammer and nails. He’d taught him about self-respect, discipline and responsibility. Bas had returned home to Charlotte at the end of the summer a different person, ready to go back to college and work with his brothers alongside their father and uncle at the Steele Corporation.
“How did he die?”
“Who’s the letter from?”
“What else does it say?”
Bas sighed. His brothers’ questions were coming to him all at once. “Jim died of pancreatic cancer. The letter is from his attorney and it says that Jim left me part of his company.”
“The construction company?”
“Yes. I have a fourth and his younger daughter has a fourth. His older daughter gets half.”
Bas had never met Jim’s two daughters, Jocelyn and Leah, since they had been in Florida visiting an aunt all that summer, but he knew that the man had loved his girls tremendously and that they had held Jim’s life together after his wife had died.
Bas quickly read a note that was included in the attorney’s letter. Afterwards, he met his brothers’ curious stare and said warily, “Jim wrote me a note.”
“What does he want you to do?” Chance asked.
“He was concerned that his older daughter, Jocelyn, would have a hard time managing the construction company by herself, but would be too proud to ask for help. He wants me to step in for a while and make sure things continue to run smoothly and be there for her if she runs into a bind or anything.”
“That’s a lot to ask of you, isn’t it?” Donovan asked quietly.
Bas shook his head. “Not when I think about what Jim did for me that summer.”
For a long moment the room was quiet and then Morgan said, “Talk about perfect timing. At least now you know what you’ll be doing for the next three months.”
Bas met the gazes of his three brothers. “Yes, it most certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?”
Chapter 1
“And there’s absolutely nothing that can be done to overturn Dad’s request, Jason?”
Jason Kilgore wiped the sweat from his brow. Over the years his office had survived many things. There’d been that fist fight between a couple who’d been married less than five minutes, and that throwing match between two land owners who couldn’t agree on the location of the boundary lines that separated their properties.
But nothing, Jason quickly concluded, would remotely compare if Jocelyn Mason took a mind to show how mad she was. Oh, she was pretty upset; there was no doubt about it. She had already worn a path
