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Samantha nodded. “And George was yours.”
“He was everything,” Helen said. “I was so lucky to find him. We shared so much. That’s what I want to remember forever. How much we shared. How much we mattered to each other. I’ll never find that again.”
Samantha wondered if that was true. Helen was still a relatively young woman. And a beautiful one. Samantha had a feeling there was at least one other great love in her friend’s life. As for herself, she wasn’t interested in trying. Not when she’d been burned so badly.
“Speaking of men,” Helen said. “What’s it like working with Jack?”
“Good. He’s very efficient and gives me all the room I need.”
Helen raised her eyebrows. “And?”
Samantha shrugged. “And what?”
“Are there sparks? I remember there were sparks when you were in grad school with him. I remember long discussions about whether or not you should risk getting involved with him. I also remember saying you should, but you ignored me.”
“He’s not my type,” she said, sidestepping the sparks question. Mostly because she didn’t want to admit they were still there and starting fires every time she and Jack were in the same room.
“Type doesn’t always enter into it,” Helen said. “Some men simply turn us on.”
“If you say so.”
Her friend stared at her. “Jack isn’t like Vance. He’s honest and he’s been hurt.”
Samantha drew back. She was beginning to think all men were like Vance. “Are you matchmaking? If so, stop right now. It’s so not allowed.”
“I’m not. I’m making a point. Jack’s a great guy.”
“For someone else.”
“If you say so.”
Jack’s last meeting finished at four. He returned to his office and found several empty boxes by the wall.
Mrs. Wycliff, efficient as ever, had delivered them while he’d been out. He planned to pack up a lot of his father’s things and have them put in storage until his brothers showed up. Then the three of them could sit down with Helen and figure out who wanted what and what to do with anything left over.
He headed for the bookcase first. There were several out-of-date directories and registries. He dropped those into boxes without a second glance, then slowed when he came to the pictures of his father with various clients, city leaders and employees.
“No pictures of family,” Jack murmured. No graduation shots, no informal photos taken on vacation or over holidays. Probably because they’d never much traveled as a family and, after his mother’s death, holidays had been grim, dutiful affairs at best.
It should have been different, he thought. He knew guys with brothers and they were all tight. Why hadn’t he, Evan and Andrew connected? Why weren’t they close? They were all dealing with the death of their father. Wouldn’t they do it better together?
“Did it matter? I don’t even know where they are.”
What did that say about the relationship? That he had no idea where to find either of his brothers? Nothing good.
He finished with the bookcase and started on the credenza. He needed room to store reports, quarterly statements and the like. The credenza was perfect. He pulled out old files and glanced through them. Some of them were over a decade old. Was that what had gone wrong with the company? Had his father been unable to stay focused on the present?
Jack had a feeling he would never get those questions answered. He and his father had never been close and any opportunity for that had been lost years ago. What made the situation even worse was Jack could barely feel regret about the circumstances.
He filled more boxes with papers, files and bound reports. When the credenza was empty, he reached for the quarterly reports and started to slide them in place. But the shelf wasn’t high enough.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he said as he looked at the credenza. “They should fit.”
He reached inside and poked around, only to realize the base of the shelf was too thick by a couple of inches. What the hell?
After a little more prodding, he felt a narrow piece of metal, almost like a lever. When he pushed on it, the shelf popped up revealing a long, shallow recessed space and a set of leather books.
Jack’s first thought was that his father had kept a diary. He was surprised to find himself anxious to read the older man’s thoughts. But when he picked up the first book and flipped through it, there weren’t any personal notes. Instead he stared at rows and rows of numbers.
His world was the law and it took him a second to realize he was looking at a detailed income statement. He glanced at the date and felt his stomach clench. This was for the previous year. He’d just spent the better part of the morning looking at the income statement for the past year. He was familiar with those numbers and they weren’t anything like these.
Even though he already knew, he still found the first statement and compared it to the one his father had kept hidden. All the entry titles were the same but the amounts were different, and not for the better.
Anger filled him. Anger and a growing sense of betrayal. George Hanson had kept the truth from everyone. Jack didn’t know how he’d done it, but the proof was here in the second set of books he’d hidden away.
Not only was the company close to bankruptcy, but his father’s concealment had been criminal and premeditated. The company was totally screwed—and so was Jack.
Chapter Four
Jack carefully went through the books, hoping to find something to show that he’d been wrong—that his father hadn’t defrauded employees, stockholders and his family. But with every column, every total, the truth became more impossible to avoid.
He stood and crossed to the window where the night sky of Chicago stretched out before him. He could feel the walls closing in and fought against the sense of being trapped. With news like this, the board would pressure him to stay longer. They would insist that a three-month commitment to get things straightened out simply wasn’t enough. In their position, he would do the same.
He heard someone knock on his office door, then push it open. He turned toward the sound.
“You’re working late,” Samantha said as she walked toward him. “I had a feeling you would still be here. You executive types—always going the extra mile. Doesn’t being so conscientious get—” She stopped in mid-stride and stared at him. “What’s wrong?”
So much for a poker face, he thought grimly. There was no point in keeping the truth from her. He would be calling an emergency board meeting first thing in the morning. Time was critical. The financial information would have to be disclosed, first to the board, and then to the investors and the financial world. His father had insisted on taking the company public, which meant playing by the rules of the SEC.
“I found a second set of books,” he said, nodding toward his desk. “My father kept them by hand. I’ve checked them against the computer financial statements and they don’t add up. He was concealing massive expenditures and losses.”
Samantha’s eyes widened. “Fraud?”
“That’s one word for it. I can think of fifty others. We’re going to have to do a complete audit and find out the true financial situation. I doubt it’s going to be good news. We’re talking about a possible SEC investigation, plenty of bad press and downturn in the stock price.” He returned his attention to the view. “At least the family owns a majority of the shares. We don’t have to worry about a total sell-off. There will be a hit in our price, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Not with a new management team in place and complete disclosure.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
“You and me, both. Not exactly what you want to hear about your new employer. Ready to cut and run?”
“What? Of course not.” She moved next to him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not happy, if that’s what you mean. Just once, I’d like to be surprised by good news.”
“Jack, you’re talking about your father. That he concealed material financial information. That’s a big deal.”
“Good thing he’s dead, then. Otherwise, he’d be going to jail.”
He sounded so calm, Samantha thought. As if all this were happening to someone else. From what she knew, Jack and his father had never been tight, but this had to be hard for him. No one wanted to find out a parent had committed a crime.
“He wasn’t a bad man,” she said, not knowing if there was any way to make this easier for Jack. “Maybe he just got in over his head.”
He looked at her. “You’re trying to justify what he did?”
“Of course not. But from everything I’ve heard, he wasn’t evil.”
“He doesn’t have to be evil to have broken the law. People do it all the time.” He shook his head. “I’m almost not surprised. He ran several departments himself. He couldn’t give up the control. Maybe this was just another way of holding on tight. The numbers weren’t what he wanted them to be, so he modified them. No wonder he wasn’t big on change—technology would have made it tough for him to hide the truth.”
“But he did,” she said.
“In spades. I wonder if David knows about this?”
“Are you going to ask him?”
“I’m going to ask everyone,” Jack said. “The only way to ward off a crisis is to have a plan in place to solve the problem and to find anyone who may have helped him.”
“You don’t think he acted alone?”
“Unlikely. But I know it was his idea.”
“You might want to talk to Helen,” Samantha said before she could stop herself. “She may know something.”
Jack glanced at her. “You think she was involved?”
“What? No! Helen wouldn’t do anything like this. But she might be able to tell you if George was acting stressed or if he suddenly seemed to change. She might have some suggestions.”
His mouth twisted. “I don’t need shopping advice.”
Samantha stiffened at the insult to her friend. “Is that what you think of her? That she’s a useless bimbo who only cares about clothes and jewelry?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really know the woman.”
“And why is that? She’s been a part of this family for a while now. Why weren’t you interested in even trying to get to know her?”
“I’m familiar with the type.”
“Helen isn’t a type. She’s a person and she’s not the person you imagine her to be. How interesting. You think your father got himself and the company in this position because he held on too tight to outdated ideas. It seems to me that you’re a lot like that, too.”
Samantha took notes as one of her team members wrapped up his presentation. “Great job, Phil,” she said. “I really like how you’re using colors to coordinate your section. It will make navigating the site really fun.”
“Younger kids respond to colors. They’re easier for them than instructions,” he said with a grin. “I was thinking we could use the same format for the sections for older kids, but with the colors getting darker. Light blue flowing into dark blue into navy. So clicking on anything blue will automatically pop up math-related questions.”
“Good idea,” she told him, then looked at Arnie. “So, does that make your job harder or easier?”
Arnie rubbed his hand on his khakis. “Once we get it programmed, it’s not a problem.”
“Good.” She found it helpful always to include the IT guys in on the planning stages of any Internet project. Better to get their cooperation and input while the work was still easily modified.
“You could, ah, use drop-down menus, too,” Arnie said. “After they click on the color. So it’s not just one question. It could be a series. And then based on how they answer, they can go to another place on the site. Like if they get the answer right, they get a mini game. You know, for motivation.”
Samantha glanced at her team, who all seemed pleased with the idea.
“Good thinking,” she said. “You have a big thumbs-up on that one, Arnie. Thanks.”
He shrugged and blushed. His gaze never left her face.
Samantha recognized the signs of a crush and wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. Not only wasn’t she looking for love right now, Arnie wasn’t her type. He was a nice enough guy, but nothing about him caused her to tingle.
Just then the conference-room door opened and Jack stepped inside. He didn’t say anything and quietly took a seat in the back.
Instantly her body went on alert, just in case her brain hadn’t noticed his arrival. She hated that even though she was still angry with him, she reacted physically. She found herself wanting to sit up straighter and push out her chest. Of course the complete lack of significant breast-type curves made that gesture futile, but still, the urge to flaunt was there.
Go figure, she thought. Arnie was available and pleasant and smart and probably completely uncomplicated. Nothing about him pushed any of her emotional buttons. Jack might be available and sexy, but he was also her worst-case scenario, man-wise, and totally unreasonable. He made her crazy with his assumptions about Helen.
Which they would deal with another time, she thought as she turned her attention back to the meeting in progress.
“The reward games should be related to the topic,” Sandy said. “At least on some level. Like a blaster game based on times tables for the math color or something scientific for the science section.”
“The difficulty of the games could increase with each grade level,” Phil added.
“We’re going to be spending a lot of time on content,” Samantha said. “But it will be worth it. We’ll need to take these ideas to research and get them going on questions and answers. We can do timed and non-timed quizzes. Maybe coordinate some of the questions with what’s being studied in the textbooks. Are they standardized by region? Let’s find that out. If we can emphasize what they’re already studying, we’ll reinforce the teachers’ lessons.”
“I’m working on the time line,” Jeff said. “So a kid can type in a date and find out what’s happening all over the world at that time. We’re thinking anything date related will reference back to the time line. So if someone is working on a paper on Thomas Jefferson and they go online for information, the Web site will offer a time-line link. That way the student can see not only what was happening in this country, but everywhere. We can also cross-reference, so with the Jefferson paper, they could talk about what was happening in China and how it was the same but different.”
“Wish I’d had that when I was in school,” Samantha said.
“Me, too,” Jeff said. “I would have done better in history.”
The meeting continued. Ideas were offered and discussed. They had a limited amount of time to get the Web site up and running, so there would be a final of only the best. Still, she wanted as much to choose from as possible.
As people spoke and offered suggestions, Samantha was careful not to look at Jack. On the professional side, she knew it was important to put their argument behind them. As someone who cared about her friend, she was still really mad.
“That should take care of it for now,” she said. “Good work, people. I’m impressed. We’ll meet again on Friday.”
Her staff stood and headed for the door. Arnie glanced at Jack, who remained seated at the table. The smaller man hesitated, looked at her, then left. Samantha had no choice but to acknowledge her boss.
“We’re getting there,” she said as she collected her notes.
“Yes, you are,” he told her. “Your team works well together. I like where things are going.”
“Good.”
“You have an easy working style. You’re firmly in charge, but you don’t force your will on anyone.”
“What’s the point of that?” she asked. “I already know what I think. I’m looking for their ideas.”
“Not everyone thinks that way.”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
