Naked (4 page)

To the right of the door was a mirror. One she’d hung so she could check her hair and makeup every time she left this room. Stepping in front of it, she pulled her scarf away, cringing when she revealed the thick red scar that ran across her collarbone toward her neck. Scrutinizing her new reflection made it all seem so silly. Wasting so much time on how she looked. It had nothing to do with how she did her job, but it had everything to do with the way she lived her life. Her looks were a central component of her friendships, the men she’d dated, and the man she would eventually marry. And unfortunately, in a business dominated by men, her breasts played a more prominent role in her discussions than she cared to admit.

She’d made a point to be perfect on the outside because on the inside she was floundering, unsure of her decisions. The last decision she’d made resulted in the car accident that took the life of her fiancé and ravaged her skin, scars now covering her chest, shoulders, and stomach. Making good decisions clearly wasn’t her forte. Yet here she was about to take responsibility for her family’s legacy.

No pressure there.

She walked over to her desk, trailing her finger along the edge, then sat in the leather La-Z-Boy she’d chosen because it was basically a recliner. With the amount of time she spent here, comfort was necessary. This office was her second home, or her first home depending on the time of year. Which was why she had a cot hidden in the storage room down the hall.

The firm had been her life, despite having a fiancé, friends, and several associations and charities vying for her attention. Nothing had been as important. And now it was even more important. With her father’s memory deteriorating, she needed to get better, get focused, and fast. Her time hiding from the world was running out.

“Violet.” Her father’s husky voice sounded from her doorway.

She turned and smiled wide. She’d missed him.

She hated to admit, but every time he said her name, remembered who she was, she breathed a sigh of relief. The diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer’s had hit all of them hard, especially her mother, who had become somewhat of a nightmare to deal with. But considering her daughter had almost died in a massive car accident and her husband was disappearing before her eyes, Violet gave her a pass as much as possible.

She raced forward and practically launched into his open arms. He returned her hug with a tight squeeze, and the one thing that always made her feel safe—when he ran his hand down her hair.

“Dad, how are you feeling?”

“Wonderful, darling.” He kissed her forehead. “Just wonderful now that you’re here.”

His love washed over her. Something she’d been missing for the last five months being away from her friends and family.

Ward Walker was a man of distinguished taste, from his Hugo Boss suit to his TAG watch. All but his haircut, for which he paid less than twenty dollars. She ran her fingers through the feathered strands by his ear. It was the same salt and pepper—it hadn’t changed since she was a child. She pulled away and studied his face. He’d lost weight—the strong lines of his jaw were even more distinct.

“I meant how are you feeling, healthwise?” His physical appearance seemed to be taking the greatest hit since his diagnosis.

“Fine.” He wouldn’t tell her even if he wasn’t. She didn’t know why she even bothered asking. And she didn’t have to. Her mother would tell her everything she wanted to know. She just wished her father would lower his guard, and trust her enough to spill the details.

You’re such a hypocrite. You can’t even do the same.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

Absolutely not.

She nodded. It was the only gesture she could muster without giving away her terror and complete lack of preparedness. She was as ready as she was going to be. Today she took control of Walker Industries and signed power of attorney for her father. It wasn’t something she’d wanted to have to do. The papers handed over medical and legal authority in the event that he was incapable of making decisions for himself. Her mother welcomed Violet’s authority over his medical care. She’d said she could never pull the plug on the love of her life. But she wasn’t as happy about Violet taking over the company. Considering Violet had been working at Walker Industries since she was sixteen years old, it made total sense. However, she didn’t know if she was ready to make it legal, binding. To make herself the de facto owner and lead decision maker for a multimillion-dollar company.

You don’t have a choice.

“Let’s go.” He gripped her hand and squeezed, his smile soothing. “Your mother is already in the boardroom.”

They walked together down the hall, past the office of Paul Westlake, the chief financial officer, and the man she was soon going to have to trust more than anyone. They entered the large boardroom reserved exclusively for board of director meetings and upper-management discussion. In the middle of the room was a table that sat twenty people. The board of directors didn’t know about this development yet, but they would need to vote on whether she took over her father’s chairman spot, and whether to proceed with her residential development idea. Considering her father owned 51 percent—considering
she
now owned 51 percent—it made no difference for the day-to-day operations, but major projects needed to be voted on.

They had agreed to put everything on the table and disclose her father’s illness once the paperwork was final. Which was a relief. She’d hated keeping it a secret. Even more, she hated that she’d been gone for the most substantial episodes and unable to cover for him. The employees were getting suspicious, which fueled his decision to step down sooner.

When they walked into the boardroom, Bridget Walker sat with her back to the door, touching up her classic red lipstick with a compact mirror. If Revlon ever discontinued the color, Violet was sure her mother would contact the company and buy out their patent.

She snapped shut the compact, the click a familiar sound. The same sound Violet remembered from her time in the backseat of the car as a child and teen. As an adult, she knew that sound from its echo in the high-end ladies’ restrooms at the hundreds of charity galas and social events they’d attended across the city.

“Honestly, Violet. Just because something is in style doesn’t mean you have to wear it.” Her mother had turned in her seat and addressed her. She was talking about the scarf.

“Hello, Mother.” As Violet bent to give her a kiss on the cheek, she countered, “I’m sure Roxy’d love to hear that the items she purchases for her store are hideous.” Roxy’s family owned King Boutique, an exclusive high-end department store with several locations across the country. She was the head buyer. “I’ll tell her next time I see her.”

“Yes, well…” Her mother cleared her throat. “I just think a pretty girl like you should show more skin.”

A pretty girl like you.

If her mother only knew. That was no longer the case.

The family lawyer, Wesley Bryden, sat at the head of the table with a pile of papers and folders in front of him. “We all know why we’re here.” He wasn’t wasting any time. Which was a good thing considering he charged five hundred dollars per hour.

She nodded, along with her parents.

“I have all of the papers in order.” He looked over at her father. “As per your wishes. Power of attorney belongs to Violet.” He turned his gaze in her direction.

“You’ll be responsible for all medical decisions in the event your father is incapable of making those decisions himself.” He turned to her father.

“This of course is on top of the will that we’ve already updated.”

Grief tightened in her stomach. She didn’t care about wills. She didn’t care about power of attorney. She’d happily give it all up if it meant her father would stay healthy, happy, and live for thirty more years. But she’d read the statistics. Early onset Alzheimer’s patients didn’t have a lengthy life span.

She didn’t know the details of the will. She assumed her mother got everything, but the company, which was now in her name.

“Ward, you’ll relinquish voting rights on the board and your seat will revert to Violet. A vote for a new chairman will have to take place.” He looked at Violet. “I suggest you disclose this as soon as possible. The last thing you need is the hassle of wading through terms of reference to figure out defaults.”

Violet nodded.

Wesley pushed a folder across the table. “Fifty-one percent of the company now belongs to you.”

Terror gripped her insides.
Is this really happening?

“Dad, are you sure you don’t want to keep ownership. I—”

“I will not risk my reputation.” His tone was harsh, probably a little more than intended. “It’s time for you to step up. This is what I groomed you for.”

What if she stepped up and failed?

“Besides, your mother still has a spot on the board and I can make my opinion known through her vote.”

Don’t remind me.

Because there would come a day when that opinion would be different from hers.

“Violet?” Her father’s voice knocked her out of her own head. His hand clasped over hers where it rested on the wood table. “Are you ready to sign?”

After a deep breath, she nodded.

Wesley offered her a gold pen. She flipped through all the sheets, initialing where he indicated. “That’s…how many zeros?”

Without hesitation, Wesley said, “Seven.”

Seven fucking zeros. Two hundred employees. And it all belonged to her.

She signed her full name on the very last page with a shaky hand. The discomfort of trying to write in a straight line without giving away the fact that she’d never get full dexterity of her hand back was troublesome. Another complication from the accident.

Once her father added his signature, the deal was done.

She’d felt responsible for the company even before her accident. For its successes. Its failures. She was proud to be a Walker, and proud of her father’s legacy. But he’d called the shots. This was a whole new level of responsibility, and history had taught her that she didn’t make the best decisions.

Now, not only was she in charge of making the right choices for the company, but she was also in charge of her father’s choices. And when she made the wrong one, there would be no one else to share the blame. When it came time to make the final decisions, she’d have another death on her conscience.

Her father pulled her aside once the papers were signed and Wesley had advised he’d file them. “Something is going on with you, Violet. Something I’m not even going to try to decipher. But whatever it is, get it out of your system. When you show up for work next month, I need you whole. Focused.” One eyebrow quirked up like it always did when he wanted to prove a point. “I need you to be a Walker.”

“It’s beyond me why you would want this responsibility, Violet.” Her mother sidled up to them in the hallway. “You’re much too pretty to work on a construction site.”

Then maybe this company was exactly where she needed to be. She no longer felt pretty.

But leave it to her mother to remind her that it didn’t matter how many years of experience at the company she had or how many degrees she’d completed, it was always about her looks.

She was already struggling with her capabilities in business, not to mention that the accident had significantly skewed the way she viewed herself as a woman. The scars that marked her body reminded her of the future she might never have with a man, of the ways she’d longed to rebel against the woman she was supposed to be. The scars were the physical reminder to keep herself in line, to keep herself exactly where her family wanted.

Soon enough there would be another charity she’d have to help. Another man she’d have to marry regardless of her feelings.

And this time, she wouldn’t rock the boat.

Chapter 4

Noah walked up the steps to the tiny, semidetached home.

The front lawn had been paved over to make room for two cars because street parking was a bitch. This home had been the place where they’d retreated after his father had died.

The Sunday night Young family dinner was mandatory. Had been since they were children. Apparently, dinner tonight was a special occasion. Their mother wanted to introduce her new boyfriend.

Again.

He was like the sixth in the last year.

With his hand on the doorknob, Noah took a deep breath. He knew as soon as he opened the door chaos would engulf him. If it wasn’t the shouting and rambunctiousness of his nieces and nephew it was the hyenalike cackle of his mother that pierced his eardrums.

And he loved every moment of it.

The sound of his family was the greatest sound in the world. Which was why he loved these dinners. Loved watching his nieces and nephew grow up, being there for all of the milestones. He knew there would never be a day when he’d say “you’ve gotten so big” because he’d be too close and wrapped up in their lives to notice. He supported his sisters, had beaten up too many douchebags to count, and would do whatever it took to ensure his mother had a happy life.

Family was number one. He’d planned on having one of his own someday, but the last few years he’d been a little gun-shy moving forward with that plan. All of his plans.

He couldn’t wait any longer. With a relieved breath, he opened the door to…silence.

He kicked off his shoes in the foyer and closed the door behind him. Maybe no one was here yet?

“We’re in the kitchen,” his sister Paige called from the other room.

All right then. Maybe they were being held at gunpoint. Usually he was tackled before he even took his shoes off by three rug rats looking to do permanent damage to his man parts.

He made his way through the hallway then the living room.

Still quiet.

He’d grown up in a house full of people, always someone talking or singing or ranting. The quiet made him antsy. The quiet made him think too much about what he should be doing and where he should be going. And that just wasn’t something he was ready to figure out. He was happy moving from distraction to distraction, enjoying whatever life brought his way.