“Jesus! Is the military—”
“No one knows about this, Katelyn. In fact, not even I'm supposed to know. They're holding an emergency board meeting tomorrow morning, and you're going to be there.”
“Me? Are they looking for a way to spin this?”
“You're not going as an executive, dear.”
“What do you mean, I'm not going as an executive? What are you getting at, old man?”
“Relax, dear. Have a seat.” She hadn't even realized she had gotten to her feet and pushed her butt back down, embarrassed. “You forget the reason I called you here. Your inheritance, remember?”
The reading had been two days ago, and she could barely recall any of it. She vaguely remembered getting the deed to her father's Mercedes, the family china, and a few knick-knacks. Bobby had gotten the condo on Independence Avenue, their summer home in Connecticut, the yacht and the jet skis on the Chesapeake pier, the other cars, and various other items he seemed to appreciate. The liquid cash had all gone to his favorite charities since the family didn't need it, and his positions on various committees and boards were already being filled. Mensa would probably be honoring him with a chess dinner, or whatever those types did.
“I don't care about the assets,” she said.
Her godfather's stony visage cracked, and he looked amused again. “Really?”
“I loved my father, Godfried. I'm not going to squabble over the scraps. And what does all this have to do with an emergency at the platform?”
“You do know your father was a board member, correct? He still had many friends at the company, which is where he came by those images, I'm sure.”
“Oh yes, I remember. I always figured you had the bigger influence, though.”
Godfried chuckled. “He was the largest shareholder in the country, Katelyn. He had twice the pull that I do. I know my position on the board offers me a lot of leverage, but at the end of the day, everyone answers to the shareholders.” Godfried was staring now, his green eyes burrowing into her. “The fact is, your father had a phenomenal stake. The fact is, most of his fortune came from Valley Oil before you and your brother were even born. Did you know that?”
Kate crossed her legs nervously. Her dress was too short, and she had to smooth down the hem with one hand. “And?”
“And he left it to you. His VO stock, I mean. Not to Robert and certainly not to me. To you. All of it.”
It took a moment for it to sink in. Kate stopped fidgeting with her dress and looked across the desk. “What?”
“Three hundred and eighty-three thousand, one hundred seventeen shares. I just looked up the share price while you were on your way in. It's sitting at eighty-four dollars a share. Do the math.”
“What?” she repeated.
And now Godfried really was smiling again, the crafty gunfighter showing through every crevice and age line. “You'll be at that meeting tomorrow not as an executive, but as the biggest oil shareholder in the country. In the meantime, I think it's best you let your security detail resume, don't you?”
“Do I… do I…” Whatever she wanted to know, she couldn't finish. Her whole body was trembling.
Godfried winked. “You're rich, sweetheart.”
3
Twelve hours later, Kate found herself on the top floor of Valley Oil's D.C. corporate offices. Imitation Victorian-era art lined the walls, statues decorated a nearby fountain, the rug beneath her feet probably cost as much as her car. It was oddly quiet, and oddly serene. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the gentle tap of the keyboard from the administrative receptionist, but that was all. The receptionist herself was a sculpted, bronzed figure, probably only a few years out of college. When Kate asked her name, she said, “My name? Oh! That's Merrie, dear. M-E-R-R-I-E, if you're interested,” though Kate wasn't.
She didn't have to wait long. An attractive man in his late forties strode past the reception desk and extended a hand to her just as she was getting comfortable. “Hello, Miss McCreedy. It's good to finally meet you in person.”
“Likewise, Mister Lucian.”
Michael Lucian was Valley Oil's head of international projects. Everything about the man was striking, from the sharp lines of his features to the colors he chose to accent his looks. His suit was a beautiful gray, the blue in his tie perfectly matching the blue in his eyes. The effect was planned but still disarming. Although Godfried had been keen to keep her inheritance a secret, now that the cat was out of the bag, it seemed everyone who was anyone at the company wanted to meet her.
“Please, call me 'Michael.'”
“Okay.”
“I was so sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man, and we'll miss him. It's terrible we have to meet under these circumstances.” He smiled sympathetically at her. It was the kind of smile that could charm investors out of hundreds of thousands of dollars and, she reflected, probably had.
As Kate opened her mouth, the television switched on behind her. She hadn't even noticed it was there. CNN flashed a view inside Capitol Hill, a gruff-looking man behind a podium. She recognized him immediately as Jack Fields, an old ex-marine built like a battleship with a voice just as tinny. “It is with great humility, but great honor, that I rescind my position here and rise to aid my commander-in-chief. Though we can never replace a man that was as stalwart and steadfast as—”
“Sorry,” Merrie said behind them, hitting the Mute button on a remote.
Fields went on as the sound cut out, gesticulating in silence. Kate knew what the speech was about, of course. Two days ago, Jack Fields had been Speaker of the House. Today, he was Kate's father's replacement. Or perhaps replacement was a poor word; he was his successor. She had met Jack twice prior to her father's funeral, and the most she could say was that there were worse men for the job.
“My fault,” Merrie said. “I bumped the remote.”
Was that jealousy Kate saw in her eyes? Dream on, honey.
“No problem,” Michael said, unperturbed. Then to Kate, “This way.”
The first stop was his office which, if possible, was even larger and more lavishly decorated than the corporate reception room. Like her godfather, it seemed her newest acquaintance was a collector of books, and he had the shelves to prove it. Kate thought of her own office three floors below — a cluttered mess of stacked folders and field reports that looked more like a college dorm room than a place of employment — and felt a tinge of embarrassment.
He stopped just long enough to pick up the phone at his desk. “Yes, she's here. We're on our way down.”
When he hung up, Kate thought he looked nervous.
“I'm afraid things are a bit of a mess right now. My counterpart in Abu Dhabi wants us to get started immediately, and I don't blame him.”
“Get started?” Godfried had told her about the meeting, but with all the hubbub, it had almost slipped her mind. “Oh, right.”
“Walk with me. I'll try to get you up to speed.”
Michael led her down a stairwell, through another concatenation of expensive-looking offices. “As you can imagine, this could be a public relations nightmare. Not to mention what it's going to do to our stock once this gets out. And we're not going to be able to keep it from getting out much longer.”
Kate was trying to keep up with the details, but it was hard. Production stopped. Personnel missing. Disaster on the newest and most expensive platform ever owned by the company.
“So you coming into the fold is a bit fortuitous. We don't want to break this to our public relations department until later today, but you're of that department. So your insights would be greatly appreciated.”