Everywhere and Every Way(3)

Now he knew that had been a lie, too.

Because his father had despised him so much, he'd give up his beloved  company in order to dick around playing God. It was his last  manipulation from the grave. A way to control each of them on his own  terms, without care to their wants or individual paths.

Blessed numbness finally took hold. The pen dropped off the table and  fell to the cushioned floor without a sound. Caleb looked up.

"If we refuse to live and work together for a year, the company is dissolved?"

Dyken nodded.

Tristan shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. It's been in the family  for generations! The company is worth millions-Christian would never  give up all that money."         

     



 

"Yes, he would," Caleb said softly. His brothers turned to stare at him.  "He's always wanted the final word. Now he's got it. If we don't play  by his rules, we'll lose everything we've worked for."

Dalton groaned, rubbing his forehead. "This is insane. We haven't worked  together in years. Tristan and I have our own stuff going on."

An uncomfortable silence settled around them. In minutes, his whole  future had blown up. His identity and livelihood was tangled within the  company, and the idea of losing it brought a faint rush of panic. How  should he play it? His brothers had taken leave years ago and couldn't  care less. They'd opened up their own businesses and left the past  behind. He'd done everything right, followed in his father's footsteps,  and gotten fucked.

"I guess we dissolve the company," Tristan finally said. "There seems to  be no other choice. I'm sorry, Caleb. I have no other suggestions."

Caleb appreciated the gleam of regret in his brother's eyes, but it  wasn't enough. He was the one with everything to lose, and it was up to  him to convince them they could have it all. He leaned forward. "Hear me  out. I know you're ready to call it quits. I know you're pissed off  that I didn't call you about Dad and never had time to say good-bye. I  made a big mistake, but I swear to God I didn't do it to hurt you."

He had their attention. Good. He'd have one shot at this, and he had to  be good. "I invested everything in this company. I was promised Pierce  Brothers as my future; I stayed by Dad's side, taking his shit, because I  was the only one ready to protect the family business."

Dalton shot up out of his chair. "Are you kidding me right now? Dad  never listened to anyone else but you! Don't act like you were doing us  some big favor or sacrifice for staying. Do you know how many times we  tried to get involved? We wanted to be a part of this, too."

"Bullshit," Caleb retorted. "You hated taking orders, and you wanted to  do whatever you wanted. Instead of listening to a customer's specs,  you'd focus on your current dream project, then get mad when they didn't  want to pay for it!"

"I'm an artist and you never gave me a chance. You drove me out of here."

"I think sleeping with my fiancée drove you out of town, brother. Not me."

Caleb could tell that it still stung, but Dalton kept to the script he'd  been repeating for years. "I didn't sleep with her! I just wanted to  prove she wouldn't be faithful."

"Thanks. I was real grateful."

"Shut up," Tristan commanded. "Everyone calm down. Let's stick to the  facts. We can't even stay in the same room together, let alone run a  company. We have no other choice."

Caleb clenched his jaw. "There's always a choice. I'm asking you to help  me. Years ago, you wanted to bring real estate and renovation to Pierce  Brothers. You can do it now. Open up and run your own business as part  of the company. No interference from me."

Tristan blew out a breath and began pacing. Dyken watched the whole  scene with quiet interest. "Real convenient. When I brought it up to  Dad, he nixed it, and you backed him up. Now that you want something,  you're happy to give me what I'd been fighting for. It's too late."

"Dad was never gonna bend, Tristan. I knew that, and even though you saw  it as a betrayal, I was trying to save you from a bunch of crap. We  have the power now to run the company our way. I know we have to do it  together, and we haven't had a real conversation in years, but we can do  this. Hell, it'll be a lot easier than you think. With the senator's  job, and the other projects I just finished, we'll make plenty of money  to be called profitable. All we have to do is ride out the year."

Dyken cleared his throat with a loud emphasis. "Umm, you misunderstood,  Caleb. Your father put in a specific clause that states profits begin  the official day you begin working together. In other words, no previous  projects or funding will be counted. You start with a clean slate."

The tiny flicker of hope smothered and died. He hated himself even more  for the frustration that believed there could possibly be a way out. No.  Christian would've made sure every loophole was closed in order to  suffocate them properly.

Dalton gave a bitter laugh. "See! You're just as delusional as Dad. That  means we'd start out with a big fat zero. You know why he set this up?  To laugh at us and watch us fail. Don't you know that by now, Caleb? Are  you that far gone that you still want Dad's approval and will sell your  soul for it?"         

     



 

Caleb flinched. Direct hit. But he had nothing left to lose and had to  fight dirty. "Yeah, I know. Let's just say I'd rather succeed and give  him a final fuck-you."

Tristan turned to Dyken. "Does the will outline whether we need to run the company in a certain way?"

Dyken shook his head. "No, you just need to turn a profit. You need to  live in the house together, and you all need to have a part in the  company. That takes care of all the obligations."

"I can't move back here!" Dalton said. "I'm in California with my own woodworking business."

"It's one year, Dalton. Bring the business here and offer your services  as part of Pierce Brothers. I'm telling you it's possible this can work.  I'll find you some ocean to surf."

"Fuck you!"

Tristan glared. "Caleb, your point is well-taken. It's not impossible,  and we can do this." His eyes darkened. "But I don't want to. I like  living in New York and doing what I want with no one to please but  myself. I've got money I earned on my own, with no one barking orders at  me. For God's sake, I'm thirty years old, and I've been digging out  from Dad's shadow my whole life. I'm not going back."

"Me neither," Dalton said.

"Oh, you're rich, too, huh?" Caleb threw out. He knew his younger  brother had perfectionism issues when dealing with woodcraft. He'd  inherited his grandfather's skill, but had been well-known in the family  to throw away profits in pursuit of product. Caleb guaranteed his  brother was living paycheck to paycheck.

"I do fine," Dalton clipped out. The corner of his left lip twitched in  his trademark confession of a lie. Some things never changed.

Caleb had one last shot. He hated how dirty he was willing to play, but  it was his life, and he had no choice. Already his brothers seemed to  gather themselves up and walk out the door, ready to give up Pierce  Brothers. In a way, he couldn't blame them. But he needed to win.

"If you don't do this for me, I'll lose everything," he said quietly.  "You probably don't care about that, and I accept it. But I'm asking you  to do it for someone else."

"Dad?" Dalton sneered.

"Do it for Mom."

Tristan stilled. Dalton jerked back, raw pain carving into his face. A  long stream of curses emitted from his little brother's mouth, stinging  his ears. Tristan just stared at him like he'd enacted the biggest  betrayal-worse than Fredo in The Godfather.

The words fell flat from Tristan's mouth. "Tell me you didn't just say that."

Caleb didn't back off. "This was Mom's company. She gave it to us from  her great-great-grandfather and renamed it Pierce Brothers because she  believed in all of us to keep it safe. Sure, Dad doubled the profits,  but she always told us this was our legacy." His throat burned with  something, but he refused to name it. "Mom was the one who told us at  the kitchen table every damn day that blood is the only thing we can  count on. That if we're not here for each other, nothing else matters.  To watch this company, the only thing we have of her memory, dissolve  would leave us with nothing."

Dalton looked like a ghost had walked into the room. "She left us," he said. "We have nothing anyway."

"We'll never know if she was going to come back," Caleb said softly.  "Don't we owe it to her to give it one last try? We were close once. I'm  not saying we can get back that same type of relationship, but there's  gotta be a way we can live in the same house but still have separate  lives. Tristan, you can run your businesses from here and incorporate  some of the changes you always wanted to see in Pierce Brothers. Dalton  can take over all the woodworking. Then we can all walk away at the end  of the term and decide what we want from there. I'm asking you, as my  brothers, for one year to try." His throat was choked, but he forced the  final word out. "Please."