Читать книгу Boardroom Seduction - Anita Bunkley - Страница 11

Leon Archer Jr. drove his red Corvette convertible up the semicircular driveway that swept the front of his father’s house and parked directly at the front door. Sitting back in his seat, he slid one hand over the smooth steering wheel and studied the black sedan already parked in the drive, the car that belonged to Gerald Ayers, his father’s lawyer. What was going on? Why had his father summoned him to the house?

Leon had been a bit surprised when he arrived at the factory and had seen his father’s parking spot empty. During all the years that Leon had worked at Archer Industries alongside his father, Leon Sr. had never failed to come to work by 6:00 a.m., making sure he arrived before his son or any of his employees reported for duty.

Now, curious about why his dad was still at home, Leon turned his attention to the exterior of the hacienda-style mansion that his dad and mom had built nearly forty years ago. It had twenty rooms, seven bathrooms, an Olympic-size pool, a tennis court and a newly installed outdoor kitchen that rivaled anything shown on the home and garden shows that his mother loved to watch on television. The red tile roof sloped low over a center courtyard where exotic tropical flowers bloomed year-round. In fact, Leon Archer Sr.’s home had been featured in the prestigious Southwest Homes magazine, and continued to serve as the gathering spot for many Archer Industries company parties over the years. Since a good portion of Rockport residents either worked for Archer Industries or had a family member who did, most of the townsfolk had been hosted in the Archer home at one time or another.

Leon exited his car, slammed the door and strode up the flower-lined walkway. After letting himself in, Leon went directly to his father’s study where the elder man was seated behind his walnut claw-foot desk, an unlit cigar stuck into the corner of his mouth. The sight made Leon smile…his mother had banned cigar smoking in the house long ago, but that didn’t stop his old man from keeping up the appearance of enjoying a good smoke, especially when he was working at home.

“Hello, Dad. Hi, Gerald,” Leon said as he greeted his father and the attorney who had handled Archer Industries’ business for as long as Leon could remember. After a quick handshake with Gerald and a nod at his father, Leon sat down in the deep wingchair across from the huge, messy desk where Leon Sr. was busy signing papers that Gerald was handing to him.

“What’s up? You doing okay?” Leon asked tentatively. Though his dad was seventy-four years old, and had never experienced any major health problems, Leon hoped his father’s good luck had not taken an unexpected turn for the worse.

“Of course I’m okay,” Leon Sr. shot back in a gruff voice, not looking up at his son. He placed another flourishing signature on a document and then muttered, “Why’d you ask something like that? Do I look sick to you?”

“No, no. Just wondering. When you didn’t show up at the plant this morning, I got a little worried.”

“No need,” his father tossed out in a cavalier manner, now setting his pen aside. “I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than I’ve ever been, and God willing, I plan to stay that way for a long, long time.”

“All right,” Leon conceded, relieved by his father’s bantering in his usually gruff voice. “So why are we here and not at work at the factory? There’s a lot going on at the plant today. Three big orders came in last night and the Wilton shipment has to go out by noon.”

“I know, I know,” Leon Sr. acknowledged with a wave of one hand. “It’ll all get done…don’t worry. Nona’s there, right?”

“Hey, you know she is. When I left yesterday, Nona was still on the phone arguing with FedEx over that package of samples from Seattle that got lost. I told her it could wait until today and for her to go home. She refused, so I left. Sometimes I think she takes her job way too seriously.”

“Tell me about it,” Leon Sr. agreed. He stopped what he was doing and pointed his cigar at his son. “She’s a hard worker and great friend to all of us, but that woman needs a life. Other than her life at Archer, that is.”

“Harrumph,” Leon agreed with a shrug. “That’s the truth.”

“Well, you’re the best person to handle her, I’m sure. She always does whatever you ask.”

“Not always, but most of the time,” Leon replied with a shake of his head, as if resigned to the fact that he had no choice but to tolerate the antics of his most trusted, but most temperamental, employee. “Okay…enough about Nona. What’s really going on with you?” Leon wanted to know. He propped one foot on a knee and slipped back in his seat.

“Big changes,” the elder Archer teased, raising his eyes from the final paper that the lawyer handed him to sign. He removed the unlit cigar from his mouth and set it aside. “This is what’s up,” he started, clasping his hands on his desk. “I’m retiring. As of this morning, I’m finished with the business.”

Leon rolled his eyes in mock disbelief. “Oh? Really? And how many times have you said that?” he countered, knowing his father had made the same declaration several times before, only to renege on his decision and keep on working.

“I mean it this time,” Leon Sr. said as he tapped his index finger on the stack of papers he’d signed and jerked his head toward his attorney. “Tell him, Gerald. It’s done.”

“That’s right,” the white-haired lawyer confirmed. “All the papers are in order. Your father has just made you the new owner of Archer Industries. It’s all yours now.”

Leon jerked forward, both hands steadied on his knees as he peered at his father in suspicion. “Is this for real?”

“Yes, for real. It’s time for you to run the show, son, and I am more than ready to hand the whole thing over to you.”

Leon sucked in a long breath and let the news settle in. He had known this day would come, but still, he was surprised. His father had made comments about retiring so many times that the running joke around the plant was that he’d leave when it snowed in Rockport, something that had happened, but nearly a century ago.

“Why now?” Leon wanted to know, wondering what had pushed his father to finally let go. He was an energetic man who walked four miles every day, ate only organic foods and never drank alcohol. And now that he’d given up cigars, his doctor had pronounced him healthier than ever.

“Because it’s time.”

“Are you telling me the truth?” Leon pressed. “You’re not sick or anything, are you?”

“I’m in perfect health,” his father replied with a snap. “In fact, that’s the reason I’m doing this now. Your mother and I are leaving for a tour of Africa tomorrow. We’re finally going on the trip we’ve put off for too many years. We decided last night that if we’re going to go, we’d better go while I can still climb a mountain and stay up late enough to enjoy a sunset,” Leon Sr. chuckled. “And we’re taking our time, son. Probably be gone at least a month.”

“A month, huh? Good for you!” But then Leon bit his bottom lip in concern. “Isn’t this happening kinda fast?” He had thought he was prepared to take over the business, but now that Archer Industries had actually been turned over to him, the prospect of running things without his father nearby caught Leon off guard.

“Yes. That’s right. No need to drag this out,” Leon Sr. concurred. “It’ll be an easy transition. I don’t want any fancy retirement party or sappy farewells. I’m writing a personal letter to each employee, thanking them for their hard work and telling them they’re in good hands. I know I can count on you to run the place the same way I have. So don’t fuck things up, you hear?”

Leon had to laugh at his father’s rare use of the F word.

“You practically grew up at the plant. You’ve been by my side since you were old enough to sit at my desk, so it won’t take long for everyone to get used to taking orders from you instead of me.”

“Orders?” Leon quipped. “I don’t plan to run the place like a military operation.”

His father laughed under his breath while brandishing his pen at his son. “Ha! That’s what it takes to do business nowadays, son. The key is to act tough, keep everything under your control so no one gets the idea that they can operate outside the rules. If you’re the man where the buck stops, then you’re the man with the power…and you’re gonna need power to succeed. You ready to be the boss?”

Leon hesitated, giving his mind a few seconds to wrap itself around the impact of his father’s decision. The family company was now his to manage, and the responsibility was great. Was he prepared for the challenge and ready to step up to the plate?

“You bet I am,” Leon confirmed with confidence, ready to make the difficult decisions that came with being in charge.

“I know you are, even though the old-timers will probably call you ‘Junior,’” Leon’s mother tossed out as she entered the room.

“Sara, that’ll change now that he’s the number one man,” Mr. Archer told his wife, sending a scowl her way.

“I’ll make sure of that,” Leon agreed, warming to the idea that, at last, he’d be out from behind his father’s shadow. Recently, he’d begun to feel confined, as if he were boxed into a place without an exit. Had his father sensed his restlessness? Was that what spurred his decision to retire? If so, the timing couldn’t have been better.

Sara Archer, who stood a head shorter than her son, went over to him, patted him lightly on the cheek and reminded him in a sassy tone, “Well, you’ll always be Junior to me.”

Leon grimaced, and then broke into a smile, both annoyed and flattered by his mother’s display of affection. As her only child, he had learned long ago that it did no good to protest her overprotective ways. As long as he lived, he would be her little boy and there was nothing he could do to change that.

“And I don’t want you to worry about checking on the house while we’re gone,” Sara continued. “I gave Nona my keys so she can come in and water my plants and check on the aquarium. You’ll have more important things on your mind than tending my African violets and feeding the fish.”

“If that’s what you and Nona arranged, it’s fine with me,” Leon conceded, aware of how much his mother liked and trusted Nona James, who was not only Archer Industries’ operations manager, but also a longtime family friend.

“I think that’s it,” Gerald Ayers stated as he snapped his briefcase closed and handed a packet of legal documents to the elder Archer, who put them into his safe.

Gerald leaned over to shake Leon’s hand. “Congratulations, Junior,” the lawyer said, beaming his approval.

Leon pumped the attorney’s hand, “Thanks, Gerald.”

“No problem. You’re going to do fine.” Turning to Leon Sr., the lawyer said, “If that’s all you need from me, I’ll be going. I’ve got to leave for the airport in an hour.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re leaving the country, too,” Leon remarked, concerned.

“No, not at all. Going to visit my daughter in Baton Rouge. I’m only a phone call away if you need me, Leon. Call anytime, and I’ll be here…. Just as I’ve been for your father over the years.”

“Whew! That’s a relief,” Leon said, knowing how much he was going to need the seasoned attorney’s advice.

After Gerald left, Leon and his father reviewed the transition process, and then conducted an in-depth examination of the current production schedule.

“Next up is a women’s swimsuit line for Leeman’s,” Leon Sr. informed his son.

“A swimsuit line, huh? That ought to be a pretty simple run. Steve Hadley’s company out of New York, right?” Leon said, remembering the previous orders Hadley had placed with Archer Industries.

“Right. But this one might be a bit tricky. The designer wants to use a fabric that’s gonna take some serious negotiating to get down to the price Hadley wants to pay. Some kind of a specialty blend they sourced out of China.”

“Could be pricey,” Leon said.

“Exactly what I thought, so I put our man in New Delhi on it. Hopefully, he’ll find a better price in India,” his father offered.

“Sounds good. Where do we stand on the Leeman’s contract?” Leon asked.

“All done. I finalized everything with Steve Hadley. Here’s the name of the rep from his store who is due here this afternoon to consult on the project,” he said, handing Leon a piece of paper on which he had written the name. “Make sure everything comes off without a hitch, you hear? We can’t afford to lose this account. We’re doing fine, but profits were down a point last quarter.”

“I know,” Leon agreed, reading over the note, which read: Mr. Kacey Parker, Leeman’s. “Don’t worry. Leave all the business problems to me,” Leon advised. “You and Mom go have fun in Africa.”

“We plan to,” his father replied. “But don’t you have too much fun while we’re gone, okay?”

Leon rolled his eyes in exaggeration. How much fun could I possibly have if I’m busy turning triangles of exotic fabric into swimsuits for curvy females? he wondered with a smile.