Chapter 17

 

To Owen’s relief, the press conference hadn’t been quite as uncomfortable as he’d anticipated. For his first real public speaking engagement, it could have gone much worse. The questions shouted by the congregated press had thrown him off a little, but all in all, he felt that addressing the public had been a smart move. He only hoped the various reporters he’d seen loitering around GC and the hospital would heed their request for privacy.

He’d returned to the office to finish up the afternoon, perusing various reports on all aspects of GC. From production reports to quarterly profit margin projections, from research projects to legal memos... The sheer volume of work was enough to overwhelm anyone. Owen was now more in awe of Nate Gardner than he’d ever been.

For all his faults when it came to missing certain things that were right in front of him, he’d been a genius when it came to his company. He’d adapted business protocols in multiple departments that Owen had never heard of or learned about in any of his classes. He’d backed various research programs that had led to true discoveries in the field of aviation. There were U.S. airmen who were alive right now because the innovations Nate had pioneered for their aircraft had saved their lives.

It would have been perfectly natural for Owen to feel intimidated by Nate’s impressive record, but his most prominent reaction was determination. He was inspired by Nate’s legacy and more adamant than ever that it should continue. He’d always thought that founding and building his own company was what he desired above all else, but that had changed. Lena might not want to lead GC, but he did. Owen doubted he would ever be the genius Nate had been, but he knew now that he had the potential to be great at it. That was not to say, of course, that he would be successful right away or that he wouldn’t meet his fair share of failures. He had no delusions about just how much work he would have to do, but he wasn’t intimidated by the prospect.

The intercom on his desk beeped, and Shirley’s voice addressed him politely.

“Mr. Langford, you asked to be notified when Mr. Phelps’ next meeting began.”

“Yes, which conference room?”

“Room Two, sir.”

“Thank you.” Another beep confirmed that the intercom had switched off.

Owen took a deep breath and stood, buttoning his suit jacket. Among the things Declan had been able to access was Phelps’ business calendar. He and Lena had been expecting Phelps to overstep his authority at the first opportunity, but they’d both been surprised at how quickly he’d managed to secure a meeting with a couple of Pakistani businessmen. It hadn’t taken much investigation on Owen’s part to understand the true nature and potential impact of the meeting.

He left his office and spotted Logan speaking to a security officer down the hallway. Owen motioned for Logan to join him.

“Now?” Logan asked, straightening his own blazer professionally.

“Yeah, Room Two.”

Logan nodded, following Owen silently around the corner and into the conference room. Phelps had seated himself at the head of the table and was laying his trademark Southern charm on the two bearded men who sat on either side of him. All three looked up in surprise as Owen strode purposefully into the room, and the two visitors stood respectfully.

Word travels quickly, Owen noted.

“Gentlemen,” he greeted them warmly, shaking their hands. “Owen Langford, acting CEO. Mr. Basra and Mr. Malik, is it?” he asked, recalling the names from Phelps’ calendar. “I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to sit in on a discussion about our foreign contracts. They’re a vital part of our business, I’m eager to get involved.”

“Of course, Mr. Langford,” the taller of the two replied with a heavy accent. “I am Khalid Basra, and this is Ibrahim Malik. We represent Raisani Incorporated. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you. Shall we?”

Owen gestured to the table, where Phelps was still seated, once again fuming behind his professional facade. He sat up a little straighter but made no move to vacate his seat, silently daring Owen to ask him to move. Owen didn’t take the bait, instead thanking Basra for the offer of his seat. Basra merely moved down to the next chair, but his eyes flickered curiously back and forth between the two GC executives.

“Now, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that our current contracts with Raisani aren’t up for renegotiation until later this year. Sometime in September, I believe,” Owen began, leaning back in his seat as though perfectly at ease. He turned slightly to focus only on the two foreign guests, effectively ignoring Phelps for the moment.

“That would be the contracts for the landing and navigation systems, Mr. Langford,” Malik replied.

“Correct,” Owen nodded. “Then the primary purpose of this meeting is to…?”

The two men glanced at each other in confusion, and Phelps spoke up.

“We provide a variety of components to Raisani, and—”

“I’d prefer to hear it from our guests, if you don’t mind,” Owen cut him off without a glance. “You were saying, gentlemen?”

“Yes, sir…” Basra said hesitantly. “We were under the impression today’s discussion would address prospective new contracts. More specifically, the production and sale of your TERA drone components sometime this year.”

“Weapons components,” Owen stated blandly, letting his disapproval show in his expression. “To be used by the Pakistani government?”

His words hung heavily in the awkward silence that followed, and he kept his gaze firmly on the two visitors. He’d had limited time to research the two men and the company they represented, but he’d gleaned enough information to know that legal weapons contracts to foreign companies would be negotiated through far more official channels. What had concerned him most, however, were the indications that Raisani Incorporated did steady business with several aircraft manufacturers in Iran. Direct trade of such products between Iran and the U.S. was a violations of U.S. trade sanctions, but Owen knew that if someone wanted something badly enough, they’d find a way to obtain it. Since the drone technology Basra had referenced was exclusive to GC, that meant utilizing intermediaries. Like a Pakistani corporation Iran was already purchasing from.

“Among others, sir. Raisani does business with a number of foreign entities,” Malik replied evasively.

“Including Iran?”

“Trade between Pakistan and Iran is continuing to increase, yes.”

Both Basra and Malik looked more uncomfortable by the second, and Owen leaned forward in his seat, still keeping one shoulder to Phelps and refusing to look at him.

“When was this meeting scheduled, gentlemen?”

Their gazes shifted in unison to Phelps, whose face was growing steadily redder despite the benign smile that appeared frozen in place.

“Last week, sir,” Basra answered, looking back at Owen.

“I thought so. Well, I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time today, gentlemen. GC’s policy on which nations we will and will not do business with has not changed in spite of the company’s change in leadership. I share the late Mr. Gardner’s concerns regarding the potential for American-made weapons falling into the hands of an eventual enemy.”

Owen stood from the table to indicate that the meeting was over, and the visitors copied his movement. This time, Phelps stood as well, his smile looking more like a grimace.

“I’m afraid young Mr. Langford has been thrown into the deep end on his first week. There’s no reason we can’t at least discuss the possibility of—”

“GC’s policies on selling arms components to potential enemy nations will not change,” Owen stated emphatically, finally meeting Phelps with a cold stare. The tension in the room was thick enough to have the two visitors shifting awkwardly away from the table. They’d moved nearly a foot each when Owen turned back to them. “Again, gentlemen, I apologize that you’ve come all this way for no reason and that your valuable time has been wasted. Mr. Phelps lacked the authority to extend such proposals or to open a dialogue on the matter. Mr. James will show you out.”

He gestured to the door, which Logan opened for them, and escorted them out to the executive lobby, leaving Phelps alone in the conference room. It was fortunate, perhaps, that the room was soundproofed. No one heard the crash that came when Phelps launched one of the chairs into a wall or the string of curses that rebounded off the granite floor.

Owen, on the other hand, exchanged a quick fist bump with Logan as he returned to his office.

“That was fun.”

 

 

Thursday

 

Phelps grinned savagely as he read through the report that had just been couriered from his private investigator. It was the first bit of good news he’d had since the police had confirmed the death of Nate Gardner.

Phelps had spent the last five days in a state of extreme anger, his rage growing exponentially with each day that had passed since Lena had informed him of Owen’s new position. He’d been trying to avoid Owen at work, knowing that his typically calm exterior was cracking, but it hadn’t always been possible. What had pushed him to his breaking point, however, was Owen’s interruption with the Raisani reps yesterday. As far as he was concerned, that overreaching, snot-nosed brat had made him look like a fool, and that was something Phelps refused to let slide.

The PI’s report had lifted his spirits considerably, and now he had to plan his next move. He knew the Porter kid from IT had been taken in for questioning earlier in the week. Madalyn had told him that Wes had helped her with the file encryption for the shell companies, but she was insistent that the kid had had no idea what it was really about. She’d promised her father that Wes had believed he was hiding the money for the two of them, and although she hadn’t confided as much, Phelps was fairly certain she’d been sleeping with the kid too. Her confidence that Wes wouldn’t betray her seemed to confirm that theory.

All of that was a minor hiccup compared to the issue of Owen Langford. He’d done more damage to Phelps’ agenda and reputation in four days than Phelps would have thought possible. The worst of it was that Owen had waltzed into GC like the heir apparent and had won the favor of the employees with very little actual effort. Most of them treated him with as much respect as they’d shown Nate, which infuriated Phelps even more.

As he paged through Owen’s background report, the smile that graced his lips was neither faked nor contrived. He hadn’t been sure whether someone so young would have any proverbial skeletons to be exploited, but his PI had hit a gold mine of information. It had been a simple matter of making the right requests and greasing the right palms. Phelps smirked as he gazed at one of the photographs in the file.

I think it’s time I have a private chat with young Mr. Langford.

 

 

Thursday Evening

 

“Language, boys!”

Lena smiled over a forkful of rotini as Mary chastised Owen and Eric for going a step too far with their brotherly insults.

“Sorry, Mom,” they echoed in unison. Both women’s eyes misted slightly at Owen’s use of the word.

There hadn’t been an opportunity for Sean and Mary to bring up the subject of adoption with Owen, but neither had forgotten their conversation with Lena the previous weekend. Lena was certain now it would happen sooner rather than later, and she hoped Owen would accept the honor. She understood his previous logic when he’d refused their offer the first time, but much had changed since then. When it came right down to it, this wasn’t about their obligations or his pride; this was about love.

“You know, I think it’s just all of those monkey suits you’re living in these days, man. They’re cutting off the blood flow to your brain or something,” Eric teased.

“Hey, now,” Lena interjected. “No hating on the suits. He looks good.” She would’ve chosen a better adjective had his parents and thirteen-year-old sister not been in the room.

“Yeah, I guess. Speaking of clothes though, we went to your apartment to pick up the rest of the stuff you wanted, Lena. And—”

“You went digging through her dresser?” Owen scowled incredulously. Eric’s cheeks dimpled with glee.

“Awww… Look, he’s jealous! It’s adorable!”

“That’s enough Eric,” Mary admonished, before giving Owen and Lena a wry grin. “He didn’t dig through anything. I packed the clothes. He was too busy talking to one of your neighbors.”

“That’s what I was saying before the green-eyed monster kidnapped Owen. I ran into your neighbor. Tessa?” he smirked.

“Who you already knew from high school,” Owen prompted. Eric’s expression brightened with sudden understanding.

“Oh… No wonder she looked a little mad when I introduced myself. Was she that hot before? ‘Cause she’s smoking.”

“She’s trouble,” Owen corrected.

“Even better.”

“She’s also taken,” Lena added. Eric didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded.

“Since when?” Owen asked.

“About a month ago, apparently. She and Mateo finally made it official. They’ve been dancing around each other for over a year, so I wasn’t all that surprised. She called me after the press conference, said they tried to visit last week but couldn’t get in.”

“Yeah, the list of approved visitors is short,” Owen nodded. “Do you want them added to it?” Lena seemed to think about it for a moment, but Eric’s emphatic nodding only made her smile.

“No, it’s alright. I can see them when I’m out of here if they’re still interested. I think they only came last week because they felt obligated anyway. We’ve been growing apart for a while now. I assume we won’t be going back to the apartment when I’m released,” she shrugged, frowning. She knew that they now needed more security than their apartment building could provide, but she would miss the place. It had been her first true taste of freedom and adulthood.

“Where will you go, then?” Mary spoke up.

“Somewhere safer,” Owen replied. “We’ll have to find a place. Maybe… Maybe Nate’s?”

“No,” Lena shook her head immediately. “I know I’ll have to deal with our personal belongings, but… I don’t think I could ever live in that house without him. I’ll sell it at some point. Shit, the staff… They don’t deserve to lose their jobs because of all this.”

“Well, once everyone has completed a new security check, maybe you could hire some of them for wherever we end up. You’ll need help while you’re recovering, and we both know it would be safer if I wasn’t given free reign of the kitchen,” he chuckled.

“What did you set on fire this time?” Julia laughed.

“Nothing, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Have you two already started looking for a new place, then?” Sean asked.

“No, we hadn’t really even begun to talk about it, but we’ll definitely need somewhere that’s easier to secure,” Owen replied.

“What about our house? It’s private enough that your security should be able to sort things out, and there are plenty of people to help Lena while she’s recovering. Besides, you can’t really start looking for a place until you’re back on your feet, dear,” Mary insisted, her eyes pleading.

It was clear she wanted to help, but Lena hesitated to impose on their kindness. She still had no idea how long it would take to get ‘back on her feet,’ and turning the Langfords’ home into a veritable fortress would likely cause them great inconvenience.

“I appreciate it, Mary, but I don’t know…” Lena’s eyes shifted helplessly to Owen, who appeared to be considering the idea carefully.

“I don’t like the idea of having our security teams taking over your home. We wouldn’t want to put you out that way.”

“Nonsense, Owen. It’s not like it would be permanent. Though obviously, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. It makes perfect sense.”

“I agree, son,” Sean weighed in. “And what better place for Lena to recover than in the home of a doctor?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted, liking the idea much better.

“We’ll talk about it,” Lena deflected. “Thank you for the offer. We both appreciate it. A lot of things will be changing…”

“True,” Eric agreed. “What about school? Neither of you are done yet, right?”

“The Dean gave me approval to finish my classes online. I just have a few papers to write and my final exams to take. Then, I’ll be done. I can still go through commencement if I want.”

“And I was allowed to withdraw without penalty for this semester,” Lena added. “I’m not sure when I’ll go back yet. I suppose it’ll depend on my recovery and how well things are going at GC.”

“So, Owen will be in charge long term, then?” Eric asked incredulously, not quite able to wrap his head around the enormous responsibility that had fallen upon the two nineteen-year-olds’ shoulders. Owen and Lena exchanged a loaded glance, but they both knew this wasn’t the time to discuss the matter.

“We’ll decide that later,” Lena replied. “Together.”

“What about the wedding? Any plans made there?” Mary asked hopefully, and Julia perked up at the change in subject. Lena laughed at their eagerness.

“Not yet. There really hasn’t been time to talk about it…” Her face fell as she continued, “First, I guess I’ll need to plan my father’s funeral.” Mary’s smile faded as well.

“I understand, sweetie. If you’d like some help with that, I’m more than happy to lend a hand. We buried Sean’s father not long ago, and I know the process can be daunting.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Mary.” Lena tried to shake off her impending downward mood swing and forced a lighter tone into her voice. “What I really need to know is when I’ll be released. Everything is on hold until I have an answer about that.”

“They haven’t given you any estimate on your recovery?” Sean frowned.

“The orthopedic, neuro, and trauma doctors have cleared me, but I’m still waiting on a release from the burn team. There’s only so much I can do from a hospital bed.”

In spite of her growing fatigue, Lena’s impatience and restlessness were clear in her expression. Owen wanted to comment, but he bit his tongue, having no desire to start a potential argument with his fiancée in front of his family.

They all sat and talked for another half hour before Lena’s eyes began to grow heavy. When she yawned loudly, Mary declared it was time for them to leave. They kissed and hugged Owen and Lena both, then left with a promise to return soon. Once they were gone, Owen helped Lena to the bathroom and into a fresh set of pajamas.

They still insisted on sleeping next to each other in the narrow hospital bed, and the staff had given up on discouraging them. They’d simply learned to work around Owen when necessary. He flipped off the light and squeezed in next to her, settling into their most comfortable position. They lay silently in the low light for a few moments as they each mulled over the things they’d discussed with the Langfords that evening as well as the things that had been left unsaid.

“I hope you don’t have any wild ideas about going right to work after you’re released. It’ll probably be at least a couple of months. You need to take care of yourself.”

“I know.” He could practically hear her eyes rolling. “But I thought that was your job,” she joked.

“Damn right, it is,” Owen grinned, his voice still authoritative. “Which is why you’re going to do everything your doctors say and not overexert yourself.” He watched her expression turn thoughtful and calculating.

“And what would qualify as overexertion?” she asked mischievously. He smiled wider as he recognized the gleam in her sleepy eyes.

“I’m pretty sure what you’re thinking about would definitely qualify.”

“Party-pooper.”

“Guilty as charged,” he chuckled, snuggling her close.

Lena was asleep within minutes, leaving Owen alone with his thoughts. For a moment, he’d actually considered giving in to her. It was the first time since before the bomb that she’d made a comment like that, and he was pleased and relieved to see that the past week hadn’t taken her spark as it so easily could have.

It gave him hope for the future. Just a little reassurance that no matter what happened… they wouldn’t break.

 

 

Friday

 

Owen held his cell to his ear, smiling as he noted that his fiancée’s voice sounded stronger and happier than it had yesterday. Her doctor had given her good news that morning on his rounds. Barring any further complications, she could potentially be discharged by the end of the next week. That estimate was far better than the months Mary had suggested Lena might spend in the hospital. Her post-op scans had shown progressive improvement, and while she still had more healing to do, Dr. Thompson was optimistic that she was well on her way to recovery.

“That’s amazing, baby,” Owen sighed in relief. “I guess that means we need to decide where we’ll be relocating to when the time comes. Have you thought any more about Mary’s offer?”

“I don’t know… I mean, she’s right. It does make sense. I just don’t want to inconvenience them with this mess. I think we should talk to the head of security and our own teams to determine just what it would take. I don’t want to put targets on the Langfords’ heads by being in such close proximity. That’s not fair to them.”

“You know they won’t care about that,” he replied, tossing his empty salad container into the trash. If not for the fact that his last morning meeting had run long thanks to another face-off with Phelps, Owen would’ve been able to have this discussion with her in person.

“I know, but it’s still a lot to consider. We should start looking at places online.”

“Sure, but—”

Owen stopped mid-sentence as his office door opened and Jeff Phelps entered with a proprietary air in his step. He opened his mouth to tell the older man to get out, but the object Phelps removed from his blazer held his tongue. A nauseating ball of fear settled in the pit of his stomach as Phelps pointed the gun directly at him and sneered coldly.

“Hang up the phone, and put it on the desk.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He sounded much calmer than he actually was.

“Owen? What’s going on?” Lena’s concerned voice reached him through the phone, and he was relieved that he hadn’t been using the speaker function.

“I need to go, baby. I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“Put it on the desk,” Phelps commanded again, and this time Owen did as he was told, keeping his eyes on the gun as he placed the phone face-down on the desk in front of him.

What he failed to do, however, was disconnect the call.