Chapter Four
Hunter steeled himself for battle.
“Do you need anything else before you go in there?” Bethany asked from across his massive desk.
“No.” He stood, and so did she. “I need to hear what Pure Foods is pitching before we can formulate a plan to thwart it. Thanks, though, for your diligence.”
“Anything you need. I love working here, with you.” Bethany slid the pro forma budget they’d been discussing into a folder. “I’d hate for CTC to be absorbed into a multinational conglomerate. What a massive cultural change that’d entail. And the downsizing . . .”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stop it. In the meantime, we need to keep this very quiet. There’s no deal yet, so gossip in the ranks would only create problems you and I will have to deal with once I win.”
“Of course.” Bethany smiled. “Count on me, Hunter.”
He watched her go, grateful for her loyalty. She understood him. Knew why this meant so much to him. With some chagrin, his thoughts went to Sara, who no longer had much tolerance for his ambition.
She and Gentry were probably checking in with the reproductive endocrinologist now. He was certain she’d get good news. Whether she wanted to acknowledge it, those few hours he would’ve lost taking her to and from the doctor had been better spent securing the future here for their kids. Still, he’d hurt his wife, and that never sat well. Quickly, he sent her a “thinking of you” text, and then he headed toward his father’s office.
Unfortunately, Jenna had beaten him there, as had the head of HR, Ross Hardy, and Jim Turbot, CTC’s general counsel. Hunter would have to wait until after the meeting for his father’s undivided attention.
Everyone was seated at the small conference table in the corner of the large, unadorned office—a functional, unpretentious space that matched his father’s personality. People liked Jed Cabot’s affable air and leadership style. His friendly smile and near-folksy mannerisms had earned him loyalty and trust. He motivated his staff to work to its best ability.
Hunter didn’t have that skill set. He tended toward frank, direct communication that was neither coddling nor intentionally confrontational (unless necessary, like today). He’d never needed anyone to push him to do his best. That came naturally, and he preferred to work with others who shared his drive for excellence.
That said, he’d always admired his father’s rather effortless way of managing people and the business. What he didn’t understand was why his father was now willing to walk away from everything they’d built.
Stomach in a rock-hard knot, Hunter nodded at everyone and then sat beside Jim and directly across from his father. He loved his dad but wouldn’t make this easy for him. He didn’t even feel guilty about that. As far as he was concerned, this sale idea broke every promise his father had ever made to him.
Judging from the way his dad had yet to make direct eye contact with him, he knew that, too. Of course, Hunter refused to look at Jenna, whom he blamed for this situation. Jenna, who’d somehow managed to get in between him and his dad throughout the years.
Looking at Jim, his dad began. “Might as well plunge ahead. I got a call from Pure Foods. It’s interested in assessing the viability of acquiring CTC, assuming we’re willing, and its due diligence supports its assumptions about profitability and fit.”
Hunter stared at his dad without blinking, growing impatient with his refusal to look him in the eye. He’d have to force it. “Why sell?”
“Your father—” Jenna began, but Hunter held up his hand.
“I didn’t ask you, Jenna.” His gaze remained locked with his dad’s. “I’m speaking with my father.”
“It’s not a done deal, son. It’s just something to consider. The question isn’t why sell—it’s why not consider selling.”
For a second, Hunter blanked, unable to conceive of those words coming out of his dad’s mouth. Years of planning and shared dreams that had been played out in this very room flickered through his mind.
“Because this is ours. Because we can grow this company as well as any conglomerate. Better, even, because we have passion. Cabot Tea Company means something to us Cabots.” Hunter paused. “Or at least it does to me, Dad.”
“I appreciate your commitment.” His dad gestured to the others. “The commitment of everyone here, frankly. But Pure Foods is floating a rough valuation of one point one times sales, which is one hundred forty million dollars. They’d also retain the key executives in this room.”
“What about the manufacturing facilities and low-level employees?” Ross asked.
“We only had a preliminary discussion, so we haven’t fleshed out all the issues and consequences. If we proceed, then those things will be worked out.” His dad glanced at Jenna. “I can’t, in good conscience, ignore this opportunity. The economy’s been sluggish. I’m sixty-five and have dedicated most of my adult life to this business. I can’t dismiss a chance to cash out while I’m still healthy enough to enjoy time off.”
“If you want to slow down and enjoy your life, let me take over. You and Jenna will still receive annual dividends, so you can travel and do whatever you want. But CTC will remain a Cabot-owned business.”
“You’re thirty-four, Hunter,” Jenna interrupted. “You’re not in a position to lead this company.”
Jim and Ross visibly winced, but Hunter kept his cool. Throughout the years, he’d been told of the intimidating effect of his gaze. He turned that on Jenna now and watched her shrink back in her chair. You damn well should sit back.
Decades ago, when his dad had moved out and taken up with Jenna, Hunter had worried about losing his old man to a new life. Luckily, his dad had made an extra point of reassuring Hunter that they’d remain close despite the fact that they were no longer sharing the same roof. CTC, in particular, became their “thing.”
As a young kid, Hunter had trailed his dad all over this building and beyond, asking a million questions. By middle school, he’d started working here in the summer, gradually taking on more responsibility.
But once Hunter came here to work after college, things between Jenna and him had started to sour. Hunter could only assume that she’d never considered him a threat when he was young, but once he became educated and had grown up, she got jealous that she was no longer the sole person at CTC whom his dad turned to in a crisis.
“I’ve worked here since sixth grade. Unlike you, who’s only ever worked in marketing, I know every facet of this business. I worked in manufacturing in Idaho between high school and college. Studied biology and have traveled to China, India, and Africa, and been involved with creating different blends. I run the numbers, whether we’re talking payroll, capital expenditures, or marketing budgets. I know the market. I even know the employees by name. So don’t pretend that my age prevents me from knowing how to run this business. I know the levers to pull to maximize profitable growth, and everyone at this table knows that.” Hunter looked at his dad. “Don’t waste Pure Foods’ time or mine. If I have to start dealing with its due diligence team and answering questions, it’s going to detract from my ability to do my day-to-day job.”
To his credit, his dad’s expression proved him to be a little bit torn. “I know you’re passionate, son, but one hundred forty million dollars is a good price for this business, especially in an uncertain economy and trade environment.”
“I assume they’ll want a nondisclosure agreement while they investigate?” Jim Hardy interrupted, probably hoping to defuse the brewing confrontation.
“Yeah, that, and if it goes forward, they’d want some noncompetes from Hunter and me.” His father met Hunter’s steady gaze with a bit of trepidation.
Noncompetes? “You’d sell my birthright out from under me and tie my hands, too?” Hunter tossed his pencil on the table. “I can stay on at the company I helped build and take orders from some other CEO, or I get to leave but not use my expertise for however long Pure dictates?”
“Son,” his dad began.
Hunter stood and rubbed one hand over his face. “Can you all excuse us? I’d like to speak with my father alone.” When Jenna didn’t move, he snapped, “You too, Jenna.”
She looked at her husband, but at least his dad didn’t argue the point. He patted his wife’s hand. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Once everyone filed out of the room, Hunter closed the door. He kept his back to his dad for a moment, thinking.
He drew a calming breath because he didn’t want to fight, even if he was prepared to do so. “Dad, if you want to step back, step back. Stay on as chairman and keep a finger in the pot, but let me step up as CEO. You know I’m ready. No one but you knows as much about every aspect of this company as I do. Let me implement some of the ideas I’ve had. I know I can grow the business and hand it off to the next generation of Cabots. This is our legacy, Dad.”
“You and Sara want to start a family. Is this the best time for you to get more involved in work? The price of my ambition was a broken family. Is that what you want?”
The apples-to-oranges comparison caused Hunter to sputter. “Sara and I aren’t you and Mom. We’re compatible.”
They always had been, anyway. As soon as she had a baby, she’d stop demanding things from him that she’d never needed before. He’d have his own family that he’d provide for, love, and hand this place over to, down the road.
“Compatibility isn’t the point. The more invested you are here, the less invested you are at home. No one—not even the almighty you—can be in two places at once. Think about the money. You, your sisters, and your kids would be set for life.”
How could his own father not understand Hunter’s motives?
“It’s not about money. I’ve invested my heart and soul here. And even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t start my own tea or beverage company for a number of years if I’m stuck in a noncompete. Would you really expect me to be happy working for someone else at our company or going to work for some other company that I don’t care about?”
His father laid one hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Maybe if you took a breath and looked around, you’d find some other purpose that excited you. Look at Colby. She changed careers and is happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
“I’m happy here. I’ve always been happy here.” His whole body tensed in an effort to keep his voice from booming. “This has been my dream since you promised we’d run it together. How can that mean nothing now?”
His father shook his head, voice lowering. “You’re making it personal, but it’s business, Hunter.”
“It’s not just business to me.” Hunter’s hands hit his chest before stretching out from his sides. “It is personal.”
Silence settled between them. They’d probably spent thousands of hours in this room during their work together. Most of the time it had been charged with productive energy. Right now, the atmosphere seemed more like a funeral parlor.
“Let Pure Foods kick the tires and present a final offer before you get riled up. If it substantially lowers the valuation, or raises a bunch of nonsense, then this is a nonissue. If it makes a fair offer, then we all vote. Majority rules, so I can’t force this, son.”
“We both know Gentry will vote with you and Jenna. She doesn’t have a shred of ambition, so she’ll happily take the money.”
His dad bristled at Hunter’s criticism of his baby. “That’s up to her, I suppose. I don’t particularly care for your tone, though. She’s your sister.”
“Just because she’s my sister doesn’t mean I have to respect the fact that she’s twenty-five and still hasn’t finished college or taken anything seriously.” Despite having spent his whole life proving himself to his dad, his dad had adored Gentry best since the day she drew her first breath.
“She’s taken an interest in the PR work she’s doing for Colby. She’s coming around.”
Hunter zipped his lip. He didn’t dislike his sister; he just didn’t understand her at all. And, he supposed if he were being totally honest, some part of him couldn’t quite separate Gentry from her mother. He hated Jenna, and Hunter didn’t use the word “hate” lightly. Gentry resembled Jenna physically and had a tendency toward sarcasm that matched her mother’s.
“Sorry if I’m not overly impressed with Gentry’s efforts. Meanwhile, I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked and more. I would’ve hoped that meant something to you. Instead, you’re ready to walk away from it, and from your promise to me, just like you walked away from Mom, Colby, and me all those years ago. If you’re so determined to start another new chapter in your life, I wish you’d toss Jenna, too.”
His father’s eyes widened, unprepared for that personal attack. Frankly, Hunter hadn’t planned the barb. It had slipped out almost subconsciously.
“I understand your disappointment, but don’t talk about my wife that way.”
“Yes, let’s be careful with Jenna’s and Gentry’s feelings. Clearly theirs take priority over mine.” He shook his head. “The only thing worse than you breaking your promise to me is the fact that you don’t even seem to give a shit.”
Hunter turned and stormed out of the office without giving his dad a chance to respond.
Anger sparked throughout his body, seeking release. In his mind, he was tossing staplers and turning over desks as he strode down the corridor to his office. Slamming his door closed helped only a little.
He picked up the phone and called Bethany. “Hey, come to my office, please. We need to put our heads together and map out a preliminary plan to defend against a sale while I work out a plan B. It might be a late night.”
Hunter pulled into his driveway at eight thirty. Between missing the appointment and coming home late, he knew he’d screwed up big-time. From the passenger seat, he lifted the bouquet of yellow-and-red gerbera daisies he’d bought at the local grocer. They’d hardly be enough to assuage Sara, but he hadn’t had time to plan something better. Gearing up for a dressing-down, he entered the dimly lit house through the mudroom and headed toward the kitchen.
“Sara?”
The scent of french-fried onions hung in the air, making his stomach growl. Only the light under the stove hood shone, casting a dim yellow glow across the gleaming marble counters. Everything had been cleaned and put away. He wandered down the hallway and noticed the dining room table made up. Two empty plates, burned-down candles, fancy napkins.
She’d planned a surprise with one of his favorite meals, and he’d not only no-showed but hadn’t even called to warn her he’d be late. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten so caught up at work that he’d lost track of time. Suddenly, he felt about one foot tall.
He climbed the stairs two at a time and approached the master suite. Soft music emanated from within. He pictured her inside the sumptuous space she’d decorated in rich cream, blue, and gray fabrics. Maybe she’d be soaking in the tub or brushing out her hair or lying on the bed thumbing through a magazine.
When he entered the room, he found his wife curled up on the chaise beneath a blue-and-gray blanket and a circle of lamplight, reading a book. If he’d been on solid footing with her, he’d swoop in and join her or whisk her into bed. Even he knew neither of those options would fly at the moment.
“Sorry I missed dinner. Smells delicious.” He presented her with the bouquet and kissed her cheek. “I’m happy about our good news.”
“I wrapped your plate and set it in the refrigerator.” Her gaze went back to her book, dismissing him.
He deserved that, he supposed. Twice today she’d gone to the effort of preparing his favorite meals, and had obviously hoped to celebrate the upcoming egg retrieval with him tonight. From her perspective—anyone’s perspective—all he’d done was abandon her.
Hunter sat on the edge of the gray velvet chaise and stroked her thigh. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been with you today. My meeting was a waste of breath. My dad won’t—”
“I’m about as interested in the ins and outs of that meeting as you were in showing up for the doctor’s appointment . . . or for dinner.”
Ouch. Then again, who could blame her?
He dropped his chin. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am. I never mean to hurt you, babe. It’s just horrible timing. I’m torn between two essential things right now.”
Sara set her book in her lap. “I know. The problem is that it seems like when push comes to shove, CTC always takes priority.”
“It doesn’t. I swear.”
“So you say, but your actions prove otherwise.”
“Come downstairs while I reheat dinner, and tell me exactly what the doctor had to say. And I’m sure you’ve got at least one good Gentry story.” He smiled and tugged at her hand, hoping to coax her into giving him a reprieve.
She squeezed his hand but then withdrew. “You hurt me today, but I still planned a celebration for us. I know you didn’t know that part, but I’d wanted it to be a surprise. Lesson learned, especially since you didn’t call to say you’d be late.” She ran her finger down the spine of her book. “I’m not trying to punish you, but I don’t feel like pretending everything is fine just to make you feel better tonight. Sorry. I’d rather relax and keep reading than force conversation.”
Hunter nodded. Sara had always been calm and honest with him. He couldn’t begrudge her those feelings, and maybe stilted conversation wasn’t the best idea, anyway. “Okay. I’ll put these in water. Maybe we can talk a little later.”
“Thank you.”
He cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead. “Enjoy the book.”
Hunter padded back downstairs and arranged the flowers in the crystal vase he’d bought her for their third anniversary—when life had been perfect. Sara had received a promotion that year, and they’d celebrated with a weekend trip to Seattle. Back then, they’d routinely shared ideas and office politics. Sex without a thought to procreation had been as easy as breathing, and nearly as frequent. And they’d laughed often.
Those things all happened less frequently these days. He missed it, and her, but had no idea how to get it all back.
Setting the flowers on the kitchen island, he then reheated his dinner in the microwave. He stood there watching the plate spin, each rotation strangely stirring his sense of uneasiness. He loved his wife and he loved CTC. He planned to fight for them both, but if Vegas was taking bets, odds might be against him on both fronts.