Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Venison was no stranger to the dinner table around here. As civilization encroached on the mountains, we had too few predators and way too many deer. I’d gone hunting myself occasionally, though I didn’t have the patience to do it often.
I didn’t mind hunting, but I hated every one of my father’s trophies. I had too many memories of standing in front of that massive desk, being stripped down by Prentice, his sad, dead animals a silent audience for my failures.
I was never good enough for my father. Now he was dead and I’d never have the chance to prove him wrong.
I hated this room, but for now, I was stuck with it. Once we got the rest of the house in order, I’d ask Savannah to look into redecorating. Or see if Hope had any ideas. I thought briefly about finding another room to use. Maybe the gold drawing room Darcy had loved or a corner of the library.
No, both drawing rooms were in total disarray, dusty and barely furnished. The library was better, but the desks in there were too small. It would have to be my father’s office.
My office now. Mine and Hope’s.
Resigned, I crossed the threshold and made my way to the desk. Here the heavy mahogany desk glowed from an application of polish that left this part of the room smelling like beeswax and lemon. Savannah had been here, anticipating we’d need the space. A pile of mail at least a foot high was stacked in the black leather inbox, Prentice’s laptop front and center on the matching leather blotter.
I flipped open the lid and the home screen popped up.
“No password?” I asked.
“He used to have one. Then he kept forgetting it.” Hope pulled up the chair Savannah must have put beside my father’s and nudged my father’s big leather desk chair back from the desk. I sat.
The sooner we got started, the sooner I’d have a handle on my father’s business. Once that happened, it wouldn’t be Prentice’s business anymore. It would finally, truly be mine.
A spark of anticipation lit inside me as I thought about that, really thought about what it would mean to take charge of everything that had been stolen from me. I’d loved my time in the Army and with the Sinclairs. If I hadn’t been shot, if Prentice hadn’t died with this ridiculous will, I would have happily stayed in Atlanta.
But this, taking the helm of Sawyer Enterprises, this was what I’d wanted to do since I was old enough to understand what it meant to be a Sawyer. I had a flash of grief that Ford wasn’t sitting beside me. Or Royal. Or Tenn. Any of them. We were supposed to do this together.
As if she knew what was going through my head, Hope reached over to give my hand a gentle squeeze, the flash of diamonds on her finger chasing away my melancholy.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Okay. I’ve been thinking about it and we need to start here—”
Reaching over me, she opened a file on the desktop, and we were off. Hope had been right. She didn’t know everything about Sawyer Enterprises. Unlike her job with Edgar, she hadn’t been Prentice’s personal assistant. That didn’t matter. She’d still done just enough that if she didn’t know an answer, she knew where to find it.
We’d made our way through most of the mail, determining what was important and what could wait, when the deep tones of the front doorbell rang through the house. Moments later, the click of heels on hardwood came toward us. As one, Hope and I braced.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hope
Maybe it was my sixth sense for bitches, but I knew exactly who those high heels belonged to before she strode into the office. The Viper. Otherwise known as Vanessa Sawyer. Ford had divorced her years before, but Vanessa hung on to his name. She’d sold her soul for the Sawyer name and she’d let it go over her dead body.
She propped her hands on her hips, one leg cocked out to the side, her shoulders angled to give the best view of her cleavage. Tossing her shiny, ebony hair over her shoulder, she pursed full red lips and glared at Griffen before she let her face melt into a sweet smile. “You’re in town three days and you don’t come see me? Griffen. I thought we had more than that.”
Griffen leaned back in the big leather chair, propped his ankle on his knee, and gave her a cool look. “Since the last I saw of you you were married to my brother, I’d say we didn’t have anything at all.”
I didn’t know Vanessa well, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew why she was here. Griffen and his bank account. And this house. I also knew she wasn’t going to get any of them. Griffen was loyal and expected loyalty in return.