“Good morning, Travis,” Wade said, standing and moving forward to shake his hand.
Samara’s eyes met his, and a shock wave vibrated between them. Travis was surprised everyone else in the room didn’t feel the jolt. Jesus.
“Have a seat,” Dayna invited.
Ava appeared with a tray of coffee and cups. Travis eyed the spot next to Samara on the sofa and decided it would be wiser to sit in an armchair across from her.
They drank coffee and made small talk about the funeral until Samara set her cup down sharply on the table.
“Could we get on with it?” she asked tightly. “We have a lot to do today.”
Wade glanced at Dayna, who nodded, and also set his coffee down.
“Of course,” he murmured, and reached for his briefcase. “The terms of Parker’s will are quite straightforward.” He nodded to Dayna solemnly. “I’m sure this isn’t surprising to you.”
They all nodded, Travis still unsure why he was there.
“Travis, you’ve been named as the executor,” Wade told him.
Oh. Well. That was fine. He could do that for Parker.
“Dayna, Parker left almost everything to you.”
They all nodded.
“Almost everything?” Samara asked.
“Your father had extensive assets,” Wade replied. He glanced at Travis. “This house, the property on the coast, his investments… all goes to Dayna, except his shares in Cedar Mill Coffee Company.” He paused. “Those go to you, Samara.”
Travis kept his mouth from falling open with difficulty. Parker’d left all his shares to Samara?
Well. He sucked in a breath. That shouldn’t be that surprising, but Travis had assumed Dayna would inherit everything.
He could see Samara’s quick mind working, turning things over. “My father owned forty percent of the shares of Cedar Mill,” she said to Wade slowly. “Is that correct?”
He nodded. “That’s correct.”
Wheels were turning, and suddenly a rock had materialized in Travis’s gut.
Samara looked across the room at him, wide-eyed. Then she smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Burnell.”
Oh Jesus. She could not be thinking what he thought she was. Wade went over a few more things, asked Travis to call and arrange a meeting the next week, and expressed his condolences again.
Dayna showed Wade out, leaving Travis and Samara alone again. Her eyes were sparkling, green flecked with glints of gold.
“Spit it out,” Travis told her.
She grinned at him although she looked a little dazed. “What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“What do you think I’m thinking?” she asked saucily. He narrowed his eyes and stared her down. Just then, Dayna returned.
“Well,” she said in her soft voice. “That was quick and to the point.” She smiled at her daughter. “No surprises. I knew your father wanted you to be involved in the business some day.”
“No,” Samara agreed, shaking her head, her auburn hair sliding over bare shoulders. “No surprises.”
Travis’s gut clenched tighter.
“Just this one,” Samara said, standing. “I’ll be staying here in Portland.”
Dayna gaped at her daughter, and Travis kept his face carefully expressionless.
“You...you will?” Dayna put hand to her throat.
“I will. I’ll be taking over Dad’s role in the business.”
Chapter Seven
Travis ground his teeth. “Samara.”
“Someone has to be CEO.” She looked at Travis. “Dad was CEO, and he left me his shares. Obviously, that’s what he wanted.”
“I don’t think it’s that obvious.”
He didn’t even know where to start with this epic headache. He glanced at Dayna and saw the worried look on her face.
“Well, who do you think should be CEO?” Samara’s green eyes challenged him.
Now that she mentioned it, he knew the answer clearly. He hadn’t given much thought to replacing Parker—Jesus, the man had only been gone days—since he’d been so busy dealing with the fallout his death had caused. But it was patently obvious to Travis that the next CEO was going to be him.
He met Samara’s gaze but said nothing. Her own eyes widened. “No!” she exclaimed.
“Samara,” Dayna put in. “Just hold on here.”
Samara turned hostile eyes toward her mother, and Travis sighed. Was this going to deepen the rift between mother and daughter? He rubbed his face.
“This isn’t just up to us,” he said heavily. “Replacing Parker is a decision that needs to be made by the entire board of directors.”
Samara narrowed her eyes. “Doesn’t what Dad would have wanted come into it?”
“Samara, we don’t know what he wanted,” he pointed out. “He left you his shares, but he never stated that he wanted you to be CEO.” He paused. “Think about it. You don’t just jump from regional manager to CEO of the company overnight.”
She firmed her lips, her stubborn little chin dimpling. “I don’t see why not.”
She was the most frustrating female he’d ever met, goddamn it. Pressure built behind his eyes. “Look, Sam, I have no doubt that Parker wanted you to move up into an executive position some day. He talked about that. He was so damn proud of you getting your degree and the things you accomplished.”
She nodded tightly.
“You’re not ready for that,” he continued softly.
“I am ready,” she insisted stubbornly. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
He considered that. Was he biased? Admittedly, now that the subject was out in the open, he was beginning to realize how important this was to him. He’d helped Parker build the company. It had been his life ever since he and Parker had joined forces and especially since he’d moved to Los Angeles. After that, he’d had to prove himself all over again to Parker, desperate to get back his approval, his trust. He remembered his fear when Parker had been so pissed off at him that he’d screwed up the only thing he’d ever accomplished in his life, and felt that fear again. He wasn’t going to lose it. This company was his, and he would run it. No question.
“You just want the job for yourself,” she flung at him.
“Yes,” he admitted, holding her gaze. “I want that job for myself. This is my company too, and I’m the most logical one to do it.” He glanced at Dayna. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, her fingers twisted together in her lap.
“Travis...”
He nodded to her then turned back to Samara. “It’s only logical, Sam. Parker and I were partners. It only makes sense that I would step into that role.”
“Why should you have all the control?” She jumped to her feet and started pacing in front of the French doors. “You don’t hold all the shares in the company. Only forty percent.”
He took a deep breath. That was only too true. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I can’t handle all the responsibilities of my job and Parker’s. We’re going to have to restructure our executive management. Maybe divide some things up differently.”
“And where do I fit in there?”
It was a helluva question, actually. He thrust a hand through his hair.
She smiled at him. “Gotcha.”
No effing way. Not only did he have a vested personal interest in this, he had to consider the good of the company. They couldn’t have a twenty-four-year-old inexperienced CEO taking over.
His only consolation was that he knew there was no way the others would allow that to happen. And if it came to a vote, his forty percent plus their ten percent equaled fifty percent.
Leaving fifty percent in the hands of Samara...and her mother.
Samara and her mother met with the minister, made arrangements with the caterer and answered the door to continual deliveries of floral arrangements, but frustration ate at her that she was running around attending to those things when where she really wanted to be was at the office.
After hearing the news yesterday that she now owned her father’s shares in the company, it was crystal clear to her what she had to do. Ever since she’d arrived she’d felt a powerful need to go to the office, to step in, take charge, to know what the communications people were saying, to talk to staff and reassure them that their jobs were safe. But now she knew she had a right to step in. Not only a right, but a duty and an obligation. It was what her father would have wanted, she was sure of it, and she was filled with determination that she was going to take over.