my decor.”
A sudden smile broke through the somber expression on Annie’s face. “Becca said it was decorated in early motel.”
“Actually it’s the furniture that was there when I moved in. I always thought someday I’d get around to having a house of my own.”
But not Davis’s house. It didn’t feel right to be sitting in this warm family room without Davis opposite him.
“That’s settled, then,” Chet said. “You’ll stay here, carry on like any normal family.”
“We need to talk about the company.” That probably sounded abrupt, but he had to know where they stood.
Chet glanced toward Annie, probably thinking he wouldn’t want to discuss this in front of her. “I could meet you at the office tomorrow.”
“No. Annie’s just as involved as I am in this situation. It’s Marcy’s future we’re talking about, after all.” Again he pictured Davis sitting in the chair opposite him. Protecting Marcy’s future meant protecting the company.
Annie stirred. “I know you said that Frank had bought a share in the company. But I don’t understand why anything would change now that Davis is gone.”
“Originally, Davis and I were equal partners.” He clenched the chair arms. “Actually, he put up most of the start-up money, but he insisted on a partnership.” Most of the Conrad fortune was gone by that time, but there was still enough for Davis to invest in their futures. “Then when we wanted to expand, we divided the pot. Davis and I each owned thirty percent of the company. The remaining forty percent was split among four investors—Frank, Delbert Conrad—Davis’s great-uncle, and two friends of his father, Harvey Ward and old Doc Adams. Davis was company president, I was chairman.”
“Davis’s share goes to Marcy, but with the custody still not settled…” Annie let her voice trail off.
“Exactly. It leaves us in limbo. Davis and I would vote together on any decision, and together we had a majority.” He didn’t want to voice what he’d been thinking, but he forced himself to. “Even without Marcy’s shares, Frank could outvote me if he got the rest of the board on his side. With Marcy’s share, all he’d need is his great-uncle’s vote for complete control.”
She leaned forward in the rocker. “But why would he want it? He doesn’t know anything about building, does he?”
“No.” Chet answered for him. “Frank manages the rental properties he inherited and sits on the boards of a few institutions. He likes running things. And there’s that lakefront property. He’s said more than once that it’s a potential gold mine, and I’ve had the impression lately that his expensive tastes are outrunning his income.” He stood. “All I can say is that you should continue the way you are. The rest of the board won’t rush into any changes. I certainly wouldn’t advise it.”
Link stood, too, holding out his hand. “Thanks, Chet. For everything.”
Annie joined him as Chet moved to the door. “Yes, thank you.” She managed a smile. “I don’t know how we’d have gotten through today without you.”
“Just doing my job.”
They stood together like any married couple saying good-night to a visitor. Was that what Annie was thinking, too? How were they going to do this, especially with a social worker looking over their shoulders, taking note of every mistake?
He closed the door, realizing that thought had been lurking at the back of his mind ever since the judge’s ruling. Annie, with her nice, stable, middle-class up-bringing, couldn’t possibly guess what terrors the threat of a social worker raised in his mind.
They’ll take you away and put you in a home. His mother’s voice, slurred with alcohol, sounded in his memory. Those were the words she’d always used when he got too much for her to handle.
At five or six, he hadn’t understood what she meant, but it had terrified him enough to keep him in line through yet another move to yet another rented room in another town that didn’t welcome them….
“Do you want anything to eat?” Annie gestured toward the kitchen.
“No.” He didn’t realize how sharply that had come out until he saw anger flare in her eyes.
“If you think I should have produced a six-course dinner after a day like this—”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about food.”
She looked a bit mollified. “What were you thinking about? The company?”
“Not exactly.” She didn’t need to know he was remembering a childhood she couldn’t begin to imagine. “Just all we have to do to make this work.”
Annie rubbed her forehead, as if the very idea gave her a headache. “Home visits, social workers. How do you prepare for something like that?”
That was certainly the last thing he wanted to discuss. “We’d better start with telling your parents what’s going on. I know your father’s worried. And then there’s your job. You’d better apply for a leave of absence.”
He stopped, realizing that Annie no longer looked tired. She just looked mad.
“We?” she said pointedly. “It sounds to me as if all those things concern me, not you.”
He picked up her hand, touching the plain gold band on her finger. “Married, remember? We have to start acting that way.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to tell me what to do.” She yanked her hand away. “But then, you’re really good at telling people what to do, aren’t you.”
Something seemed to snap inside him. “Are you still talking about the past? Get over it, Annie. We’ve got more important things to handle now.”
“Definitely more important. And that reminds me that I couldn’t trust you once before.”
He put his fists on his hips, glaring at her. All the things he’d wanted to say for years bubbled up inside him. Only now, he didn’t have any reason to keep them back. Everyone involved in his original promise was gone.
“It wasn’t a matter of trust,” he said evenly. “I made a promise.”
“A promise to do what? Keep Davis safe from unworthy females like Becca?”
He could only stare at her. Of course that was what she thought. He hadn’t given her any other possibilities.
“It wasn’t that. Don’t ever think that. Becca was probably the best thing that ever happened to Davis.” As you were to me. His first love had come back to haunt him. “It was Davis, not Becca. His parents made me promise to look out for him that summer.”
Her chin set firmly. “Did they expect you to keep him from falling in love?”
“No.” He took a breath, knowing it was time to speak. “They expected me to keep him from acting irrationally. Davis had bipolar disorder. They didn’t want him doing anything rash while he was in a manic phase. I was supposed to prevent
