Authors: A.C. Arthur
That thought had Brandon immediately recalling the conversation he’d had a few days ago when his father was still in the hospital. Uncles Henry and Everette were there checking on his father’s progress. There had been no stent procedure done, as the doctor’s had initially considered. Instead, they’d prescribed a daily regimen of aspirin, a beta-blocker, an ACE inhibitor and a statin. Albert would take these for the rest of his life. His father did not like hearing that news, any more than he’d liked what Brandon had to say.
“What’s going on with Donovan Oilwell?” he’d asked as casually as he could.
“I thought you were more concerned with investing other people’s money, Brandon,” Everette had said with a slight chuckle.
He apparently thought this was a joke. Brandon vehemently disagreed. He’d gone into the office that Sunday after speaking to Ty and he’d pulled up every email Margaret had sent in the last year. It had taken him hours to do so and when he’d finally finished later that day, he’d gone to Albert’s office in the Donovan Oilwell building. The security guards knew him there so they didn’t question why he was downtown at eight in the evening. There, Brandon had been able to get a glimpse of what had been happening at his family’s company. Now, he wanted the people responsible for running that company to come clean. With everything that had come to light in the past months, he wasn’t totally sure they’d be willing to do that.
“I’m concerned with whatever happens in this family, personally and on the business front,” Brandon replied to his uncle.
“As you should be,” Henry added. “Now what exactly are you asking us?”
Okay, his uncle wanted to get straight to the point now. That was just fine with Brandon.
“Someone’s been buying up the stock like you were running a sale,” Brandon told them. “That’s because your shareholders are nervous about something. This fear hasn’t spread globally yet. I know because I’ve spoken to Roark a few times and he’s gone over all the financials of Donovan Oilwell UK.”
Brandon paused and looked at each of the brothers. There was no shock on their faces. Not even a little.
“As far as I can tell,” Brandon continued. “Your buyers have been dropping off like flies. You’re losing accounts all over the country. Did any of you ever stop to wonder why?”
“We talked about this,” Albert said. “We scheduled meetings with all of our customers in an attempt to get to the bottom of the issues.”
“But that didn’t work,” Brandon said to his father.
Everette, who was in charge of customer accounts at Donovan Oilwell Las Vegas, rubbed a hand across his chin. He was known as one of the more thoughtful brothers. Brandon could basically agree with that classification. Everette, along with the Miami Seniors, Bruce and Reginald, possibly because they were the three youngest brothers, had always been the more easy going of the six. Albert, even though he was the oldest had always been the quietest of the bunch. On the other hand, Brandon considered Henry the coolest of the Senior Donovans, and not necessarily in a good sense. While Bernard, was hand’s down, the most authoritative brother, Henry had a low key type of edge to him. He didn’t yell or threaten, he simply did, and whether or not that was good or bad never seemed to matter.
With that said, it was no surprise to Brandon that Henry would be the one to respond.
“No. It didn’t work and we lost some key accounts. Businesses of this nature have up and down fluctuations, Brandon. You should know that considering you work with stocks and investments. There’s never any certainty there,” Henry said.
Brandon nodded. “You’re right, Uncle Henry. Performance fluctuations are always expected. But when there’s an obvious pattern, those unforeseen changes should be thoroughly evaluated and confronted.”
“We didn’t think there was a pattern,” Albert said, his voice still weaker than it had been. Sitting up in his bed now, however, Brandon had to admit that his father was looking much better than when he’d first visited him in the hospital.
“Not initially,” Albert continued.
“But eventually you began to see it. You guys are too smart not to have thought about this,” Brandon said.
The brothers remained silent.
“Oh yeah, you thought about it. You talked about it and you knew something was going on. But I’ll bet you got it all wrong,” he said.
“What are you talking about? If you know something about our company, you need to tell us,” Everette demanded.
“It’s not just your company, Uncle Everette. All of us have a stake in the company that your grandfathers built. That’s the way they wanted it, right? Rowan and Charleston Donovan wanted to create a company that would financially sustain their family from generation to generation. They wanted their family to remain united and financially solvent so they worked their asses off in an industry that two black farm hands weren’t even supposed to be a part of and knew nothing about. They did all of that so that you guys could stand here today and let someone with revenge on their mind destroy it all.”
The words were hot as they spewed from Brandon’s mouth. His gut had been in knots from the moment he’d gotten that call from Ty. Their family business, everything that they were built on was in a precarious position right now. They could lose it all because of Roslyn Ausby.
“Tell us what you know, Brandon,” Albert said quietly. “Just tell us, son.”
Brandon had slipped his hands into his front pockets as he looked at three of the men that had been such pillars of strength and integrity all his life. He’d loved his family, his parents, his siblings, uncles, aunts and cousins. They’d stuck together through everything and now, Brandon feared they would never be the same.
“When you started hearing from the customers that they wanted to terminate their contracts instead of renewing, you all thought the same thing. You thought about Roslyn Ausby, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Al thought about her,” Everette said. “Henry and I, well, we didn’t think she was that smart.”
“She’s a gold digger,” Henry stated through clenched teeth. “She has no idea about business dealings.”
“She knows how to use her body to get what she wants from men, Uncle Henry. Sometimes that’s the smartest business move ever.”
Brandon heard the snap and bite of his words and knew they were probably borderline disrespectful. He just didn’t give a damn.
“She couldn’t have gotten to all of them. Not every man is susceptible to that type of infiltration,” Henry told Brandon, even though his tone held a tinge of regret that he was not one of those men.
“I believe that’s true,” Brandon said to his uncle. “That’s why you should have thought past Roslyn Ausby as the culprit. You should have considered the son.”
He wouldn’t say the ‘secret son’ as the cousins had taken to calling Dane, because the man wasn’t a secret any longer.
“He’s doing this?” Albert asked. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s smart and he knows just how to devour a company when it’s vulnerable,” Brandon told them without hesitation. “Trent traced his financials, eight years ago he took over a power company. He’s built that company to one of the largest in the country. I’m sure you’ve heard of Imagine Energy Corp.”
Everette cursed.
“We’ve been trying to get their business for the last two years,” Henry said. “No wonder there was never so much as a return call.”
“I don’t think he was in the mood to make a call back to someone who he feels has ignored him all his life,” Brandon said.
“That’s enough,” Albert told Brandon. “We’re not going to do this anymore. Now if you have more to tell about this situation, then tell us.”
Or he could simply walk out and keep the secret to himself, the way they’d done for all these years. But Brandon knew that wasn’t the answer. He knew that now was not about his anger or disappointment in these men. It was about saving what they could of the legacy.
“He’s going to attempt a hostile takeover,” Brandon told them. “That’s why he’s been wooing your clients over to his supplier, which we haven’t been able to pinpoint just yet. We think it’s an overseas company. Roark’s going to work on finding out which one since he has all of the foreign contacts. With your clients leaving, your shareholders are afraid of losing their checks and bonuses. They’re trying to bail out before the storm hits full frontal. Your stocks drop and Dane scoops them up.”
“He’ll never get the majority,” Henry stated. “None of us are going to sell our shares to him. Together, the Donovans still own fifty-two percent in the company.”
“With each of the Donovan children holding one percent shares that were given to them upon their birth as part of their trust fund. If Dane is a Donovan,” Brandon said, deliberately leaving the rest of that sentence hanging.
“He feels he’s entitled to a part of the company as well,” Albert finished.
“But that bastard’s trying to take the whole company,” Everette stated.
“We won’t let him,” Henry said. “It’s that simple.”
“Is it Uncle Henry?” Brandon had asked. “Just what do you propose we do to stop him?”
Silence.
Brandon had frowned. He’d known what the solution was and he’d already discussed it with Brock, Bailey and Trent. They all agreed and were putting the plan into action as Brandon spoke.
“We’re going to find out who Dane’s father is and then, that person is going to get their not-so-secret son to come to his senses. Or to discover some bit of loyalty to the family that has so far done nothing for him. Because that’s the only course of action we can take. We have to step into his playing field now. There’s no way around it.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment,” Bernard said as he’d walked into the room.
They’d called him days ago when Albert was first admitted to the hospital. He’d been in Dublin on business. Now, the incomparable Senior Donovan was here.
“It doesn’t matter what you believe, Uncle Bernard. You guys have had your chance to deal with this situation. Now we’re going to handle it ourselves,” Brandon told them, not feeling one ounce of intimidation even though he was outnumbered.
“Who put you in charge?” Bernard asked gruffly.
“You did!” Brandon said pointing at his uncle. “You, and you, and you!” He pointed to each uncle and ended with his father. “You made the mess and now your children have to take a stand to clean it up. Because our first concern is this family. Our mothers, wives, children, all of your mistakes are resting on their shoulders and we plan to fix it.”
“I told you—” Bernard began.
“Yeah,” Brandon said with a nod of his head. “You told us you had a plan for dealing with Roslyn Ausby, but you know what? That plan is too little, too late. There’s nothing you can do to stop what’s already in motion. Nothing at all. So I suggest the three of you get ready to fork over your DNA, because this is what we’re going to do. Even if we have to force you.”
He’d left them alone then to consider everything he’d said. Once outside the hospital Brandon had called Trent.
“Yeah, it’s me. I just told them. Set the dates and we’ll keep the aunts on speed dial. If any of them squawks about giving up the sample, we’ll get them involved.”
Trent had agreed and they disconnected the call. Bailey and Keysa weren’t certain all of the aunts would go along with what they wanted to do. Aunt Beverly had stood right beside Uncle Henry at the confession meeting in December. She hadn’t even flinched when the brothers admitted to adultery and possibly fathering a child out of wedlock, but she had been the first to suggest getting the DNA tests. Aunt Alma tended to follow Beverly’s lead, while Caroline and Janean mostly stuck together. As for Aunt Jocelyn, she was sort of the outsider since she was Uncle Bernard’s second wife and they spent the least amount of time with the rest of the family, opting to stay in Seattle as much as possible. Linc, Adam and Trent were of the opinion that the wives were the key and that the only way to keep the Seniors in line at this point. Brandon hoped they were right.
Now, days after his father’s release from the hospital, as the moment of truth grew closer, Brandon was pensive and irritated. With Bailey, Brock and Noelle already gone, he was alone with his father once more. Only now, Albert had been instructed to take a couple weeks off from work to recuperate, which meant his father was also walking around the house preoccupied and exasperated. They made an interesting pair.
Speaking of which, Brandon had been closed in the den, which he’d converted to his temporary office, for most of the day. It was now late afternoon and he went to check on his father. Albert was sitting in one of the recliners in his bedroom reading over the financial reports of the company for the billionth time.
“I’m going to fix something for dinner,” he said after watching his father push his wire-framed reading glasses up the bridge of his nose one more time.
“Not hungry,” Albert snapped.
“You have to eat and take your evening meds,” Brandon stated.
“Don’t want those either.”
Brandon frowned. “I didn’t ask you what you wanted,” he said and turned to walk out of the room. He had no intention of arguing with his father, about anything. Not work, the Seniors’ so-called plan for dealing with Ausby and her son, or eating and taking his medication. It seemed that the time of shifting the tables had come earlier than he’d thought. He now had to act like the parent, to Albert’s petulant child.