King’s Queen by Marie Johnston

Chapter 17

Aiden

Kendall was slumpedin a chair across from me in my office, one booted leg crossed over the other as she leaned on the armrest. “That was a train wreck.”

The office building was mostly empty, the board meeting over. Kendall, Dad, and I were in my office with the door closed. Emilia had said her piece. A long spiel about company integrity. A family-based business straying from its roots. How would it look?

Dad and Kendall had been prepared. Data. Figures. Projections. How our current efforts exceeded the grass roots of the place in all the best ways.

But Grams had a way of picking up on weaknesses and exploiting them with emotion. An amazing talent from a grandmother who’d never shown much emotion besides anger and derision.

It’d been enough to split the vote. Without a resounding yes, we had to come up with another proposition that included fewer positions and lower wages.

“She’s always been resistant to change,” Dad said. “We’ll keep trying.”

Kendall pressed her fingertips to her temples. “We’re already close to bare minimum. Her morale argument is bullshit. We can promote from within for the marketing and human resources positions. Even for the more general VP and the finance VP.”

“She’s going to want that one cut.” I shouldn’t have spoken. Kendall and Dad had done all the talking during the meeting, presenting information, including detailed stats of the hours they worked in the office and out of it.

Grams had scrutinized me. Years ago, she’d been the one to back me when I’d proposed eliminating the financial VP position after Sebastian was fired. Today, Grams had perceived my silence as a lack of support for the proposition. Maybe she thought she was championing me. Did I want her to?

I didn’t want to directly oversee anyone, but that didn’t mean I thought our family company hadn’t outgrown the constraints Grams had set decades ago.

I should appreciate the support, but my gut churned. I might need to stop after work and grab a few Tums.

Dad leveled a fatherly gaze on me. “Do you really think you can keep going like this?”

“I’m making it work.”

“Life needs to be about more than making it work.”

I spread my hands. “What do you want? You wanted numbers; I got you numbers. You wanted me to work things out with Kate; we’re back together. You wanted me as CFO; I’m a damn good CFO that can do the job of three employees.”

Kendall nibbled her lip while she watched us. I hadn’t meant to get so defensive.

“I never wanted you to be the CFO if that wasn’t what you wanted.”

Shock kept my mouth shut for several moments. “What do you mean?”

He looked at me like I should already have a basic understanding of what he’d said. “You wanted to work at King Oil. I helped make it happen.”

“You said…” What? I struggled to recall conversations we’d had before I left for college. They’d been superficial. Logistical. About what degree I should get. When I could start. What position would best benefit me until I became CEO. Anything to tap-dance over what we’d really been feeling in the moment.

Dad’s mouth tightened. “All I wanted was for you to do something that made you happy. All of you. I was sucked into the business because I didn’t have a choice. I was having a family before I graduated high school. My parents’ health wasn’t the best. Your grams and DB had all the answers. I was a scared kid who just wanted to ranch, but I had a baby on the way and no money. Then another baby.” His lips quirked. “And another and another. I worked my ass off to provide so you and your brothers could do what you wanted in life. I’ve given everything to this company so all of you could have the choice in life I didn’t.” He reclined in his chair, realization dawning simultaneously with mine. “You didn’t want to work here?”

I couldn’t respond. Anything other than “Yes, I wanted to work here” would be a lie.

“Aiden?” Dad asked gently. “Did I make you feel like you had to?”

I shook my head and avoided his gaze—and Kendall’s compassionate one. He hadn’t made me feel like I didn’t have to either. We hadn’t gotten that in-depth in any of our discussions. If he’d spoken up, would I have let it sway me from Grams and DB’s expectations? It didn’t matter all these years later, so all I said was, “It’s a good job.”

“It’s an excellent job,” Dad agreed. “There are others out there who want to do it.”

“I want to do it.”

“Do you? Or since you’re here, are you going to make sure you do the best job possible because that’s your personality?”

“It’s not a personality trait, it’s expected. And it doesn’t matter. I’m the King Oil CFO now.”

But Dad wasn’t to be brushed off. This wasn’t the same dad from high school. This dad didn’t give up. “Is that why you took the layoff incident so personally? Because you wanted to do something else and you thought that was what’d caused the oversight?”

Maybe because Dad had held the position open after the previous CFO resigned. He’d held the position open, hadn’t promoted Sebastian, and slid me right in. I’d gotten the job over other qualified candidates. And I’d fucked up. Sebastian had fucked up, but he might not have if he’d been CFO and some other vice president had had to run the numbers and make their best educated guess.

“It’s in the past,” I said, my desperation to move beyond this conversation and never think about it again growing.

“It feels like it’s firmly in the present, Aiden.”

“Dammit, Dad.” I jumped out of my chair and stalked to the window. Many days, this was my only dose of sunshine. The heat from the window eased the pressure in my head. Damn headaches. “Can you just fucking drop it?”

In the reflection of the glass, Kendall’s wide gaze was on Dad, but his maddening, steady gaze was glued to my back.

“Do me a favor, Aiden.” His calm tone only stoked the unreasonable anger coursing through my body. “Think about the opportunities your neutral stance on these positions are costing people. If the way it affects Kendall and me doesn’t bother you, think about how Mrs. Chan might be job hunting because she’s hit the top of the ladder. About the qualified, ambitious applicants out there who’d love to work with a company like ours but had to take jobs with corporate goliaths who only see them as a number and treat them worse. King Oil has been growing for over forty years. Society is going to be dependent on oil-based energy for decades to come, and not only that, we’re uniquely situated to support and develop other energies. It’s an exciting time. There are people out there who want to be a part of it. What’s your part in that?”

I didn’t turn around but watched in the window as he rose and held his hand out to Kendall. She stood and hugged his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It’s not too late to do what you want in life, Aiden. If this is it, so be it. If it’s not, you have an entire family willing to support you. But you need to tell us. You need to talk to us. You can’t keep it all inside. You and I have both experienced the drawbacks of doing that.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. Kate had said something similar not long ago. I was working on opening up with Kate. That was to secure a future with her. My future with the company was secured. I was roped to it no matter what I said.

He brushed a hand down Kendall’s face and they turned to leave. By the time they reached my office door and opened it, they weren’t touching. Professional coworkers.

Dad’s words sank in, inch by inch, like a struggling man in quicksand.

You have an entire family willing to support you. But you need to tell us.

What would I say? Hey, Dad—can you work even harder than you have because I just want to check out? No, I don’t have a plan. It’s just that work has been an oppressive Groundhog Day since I started. Oh, and can you disrupt my brothers’ lives like they don’t have their own jobs and families who are counting on them?

No.

You take after her.

I leaned my forehead against the cool glass. I was becoming Grams. Stubborn. Unwilling to ask for help. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up alone like Grams too.

* * *

Planks of corkflooring were piled at the edge of Xander’s garage. He punched the button on the door and closed us in. Savvy and Kate had gone thrifting for office decor. My sister-in-law’s new hobby, now that she had a big garage to work in and a home office that cut out commute time, was to repurpose items for home decorations and sell them at booths in the summer.

I stayed behind to help Xander put in the floor of her office. Savvy had liked the look of Xander’s office so much, she’d asked him to do her office the same. I eyed the color. Not quite the same. She’d gotten a deal on stock that had been returned to the supplier. A contractor had ordered the wrong shade of walnut and his customer had been pissed. Sections had been trimmed already, and it was up to me and Xander to complete the puzzle in Savvy’s office.

Just the challenge I needed to take my mind off the dismal talk in my office a few days ago.

Kate had sensed something was off, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her anything other than the meeting hadn’t gone well but that we were going to keep working on it. I’d also said I’d add my support to getting an assistant at the very least, and for implementing a round-robin of VP positions.

During my research, I’d intentionally duplicated Kendall’s attempts. I didn’t second-guess her. I wasn’t micromanaging her. But I’d stumbled across a topic I hadn’t given much thought to.

Leadership styles. The bios of several of the execs in the companies I’d looked through had referenced transitional leadership. Transactional leadership. What worked better in which environment.

At no time did any of the execs claim to micromanage, nor did they discuss the long hours they put in. I didn’t doubt that they did. What I doubted was that they were plugging away after everyone else had left because they were doing the tasks better suited for people under them.

Like I had been doing since Sebastian had been fired.

I might have the right to take responsibility for what had happened then, but as I read through company ethos, objectives, and mission statements, I could see that I had taken the wrong responsibility. I hadn’t nurtured those under me. I’d let them do their job, but I hadn’t stopped in and asked how they were doing. What they needed from me. What they liked or disliked about their job. Part of me—most of me—had sensed I was part of what they’d disliked. I’d gotten a top corporate gig straight out of college because of my last name. They didn’t know what I’d sacrificed to stay on the fast track through college. I’d given up wrestling and a social life as I’d diligently chiseled away at the mountain of schoolwork to prove I deserved to be King Oil’s CFO.

I had been glowering at the pile of floor planks several minutes before the burn of Xander’s stare made it through to my consciousness.

I lifted a brow.

Xander shrugged. “I mean, we could glare it into place.” He tossed a wrinkled sheet of paper onto the planks. “Or you could look at my sketch.”

Fatigue weighed on me like I’d been putting down flooring for the last week, twelve hours a day. Though if I had, I’d probably feel better than being parked behind a desk for twelve hours a day. I’d feel like I’d accomplished more.

“Your sketch is fine.”

He narrowed his eyes and propped his hands on his hips. “Or you could tell me what the hell has you spacing out.”

Questions. Doubts. Fears. I had a lot flipping around in my mind like a pinball. I didn’t want to talk about it, but the question escaped anyway. “Did you ever feel like you had to work at the company? Did Grams or DB ever talk to you?”

“No. Never.” He blew out a laugh. “I didn’t think for one moment Dad wanted me there.”

“Because he thought you could do better.”

Xander chuckled. “No. Because he thought the company could do better.”

“Ouch.”

“That was how I felt, but Dad and I have talked a lot more this last year, you know.” It was his turn to be captivated by the flooring. Maybe I needed a stack in my office to stare at. “You know what he told me?”

I shook my head. Dad had told me a lot lately, and he’d done it bluntly. Had my brothers had some eye-opening talks with him as well?

“He said Mama wanted to be a photographer.”

“She was one.” What was I missing?

“Professionally. I guess Grams was pissed Mama didn’t want to follow in her footsteps and work in the oil business. Then she got pregnant, and her and Dad’s fates were decided.”

And Dad got pushed into the company. “Mama loved ranching though.”

“She did. But she loved photography more. Dad said he never wanted me to give up what I was passionate about, he just wanted me to be smart about it. Build a good foundation, maybe get some business education so I could run a successful business in order to do photography as long as I wanted.” Xander sucked in a breath. “But you know how it was after Mama died. We were kind of shit at communication and I took everything he said incorrectly and personally.”

“I was told I was supposed to take over for Dad.”

“We all knew you would. Wait—you were told?”

“DB laid it out pretty clearly.” I looked at Xander. “What would you have done if he’d told you that?”

Xander frowned. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Well, he wouldn’t have, for one. He made some comment once, about me being soft. I left for a long ride after that and didn’t come back until after he was gone.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I don’t remember DB very well. Just that he was always bitching about the Cartwrights, or telling you everything we weren’t doing good enough at the ranch. He wasn’t a happy man, but he didn’t deal with Mama’s death well.”

“None of us did.”

“You didn’t want to work at King Oil?”

“More like I didn’t realize I had a choice. Dad told me something similar. He worked hard so we wouldn’t be shuffled into a life that we didn’t get to choose, like him and Mama.”

“Yet that’s exactly what happened to you.”

“We are shit at communication.”

“So what now?”

I stooped and snagged the sketch of how we’d fit the planks into Savvy’s office. “We put a new floor in.”

“Aiden.” He paused until I met his grave gaze. “You tell me that you never wanted the job you worked so hard for and then you want to drop the subject?” Xander had been the aloof one, but he wasn’t letting this topic go. He wasn’t avoiding the conversation and doing his own thing.

“It’s done. I’m moving forward. We’re talking about adding new positions and I’m going to propose a reorganization.” Once that was done, Grams and the rest of the board willing, it’d get better. The demand on my time. The stress. The lack of enthusiasm for sitting through hours of meetings. I had no idea how long it would take, but I had to fix what I’d helped keep broken at King Oil. I had to do this for me and Kate.

Dad’s question kept ricocheting through my head. How long could I keep doing this?

Xander pushed a hand through his hair, his movements rigid. “Look. King Oil did everything Dad wanted for us. Beyond that, you don’t owe it anything.” His tone grew heated. “Not a damn thing. Look what it did to Grams and DB’s relationship with the Cartwrights.” They’d all been friends before Grams and DB had gotten greedy. “Yeah, Mama and Dad could build a nice house. Mama could stay at home and raise us, but we don’t know that she wouldn’t have chosen something else. Dad might’ve been able to ranch and be home more too. But he had to work at the company. Then you. You gave it half your life, Aiden. You almost lost your wife. Don’t let it keep taking. It’s just a company. You still have your health. You have Kate. You have money. A shit ton of money that was meant to give us the freedom Mama and Dad gave up.”

My skin tightened. What he said resonated so soundly it took me a moment to realize that my younger brother was giving me advice. He was looking out for me. Our roles had reversed. The kid I had always been a little bit envious of because he could just leave when he was upset? He wasn’t going anywhere now. He’d changed. He’d grown up. He was no longer stuck in the past and letting it decide his future. And he was telling me it was time I did the same.