things. If Reece wanted to be a part of his child’s life, of course she would welcome it. But she wasn’t going to be his burden, his charity case, the big mistake he would always regret.
Chapter Fourteen
By the time Reece was released from the hospital the next day, he felt he’d aged twenty years. Although the doctors had assured him there wasn’t an imminent danger of dying, he’d been diagnosed with hypertension and his cholesterol was seriously out of whack.
He’d been given numerous lectures, seemingly from any doctor or nurse who felt like letting loose on some hapless patient. Loaded down with a couple of prescriptions, a number of tests he needed to schedule and a healthy eating plan he’d sworn to follow, he finally escaped from the medical profession’s clutches.
Max picked him up. “How’s it going?” he asked casually.
“I might live to the end of the year, at least.”
“You look better.”
“I feel better. Seriously.” And it wasn’t just because his symptoms were gone. Having made the big decision about his life, he felt as if a huge anvil had been lifted from his shoulders. His neck no longer felt stiff. He could breathe.
“So where to?”
“Airport.”
“Um, you sure about that? I mean, the weather-”
“Yeah. I can’t resign over the phone. I have to face Archie in person.”
“All right!” Max high-fived him. “About time you saw the light. That company was going to chew you up and spit you out eventually.”
“It almost did.”
“So what’s your hurry? There’s no rush to make the meeting now. Who cares if Archie fires you?”
“It’s Bret. I need to help him get ready for the promotion. But then it’s over. He’ll have to manage on his own.”
“I wish you luck, man.”
The airport was worse than before, but somehow it didn’t bother Reece at all. He stood in various lines for hours, almost got on a plane at five-thirty but didn’t, and returned to ticketing.
Although the hurricane had been downgraded to a tropical storm, the winds were picking up.
Unruffled, he got another reservation for Monday morning, when they believed the worst of the storm would be over. He wouldn’t make the meeting, that was a given.
He called his father and gave him the bad news.
Archie reacted worse than Reece had anticipated. He yelled and cursed and threatened, but Reece just held the phone away from his ear until his father calmed down.
“I don’t care how you get here,” Archie said. “Take a train, car, ox cart, but you be at that meeting or don’t bother coming back at all.” He hung up.
“Well, that didn’t go quite as I’d hoped.” Reece found a semicomfortable chair and went to sleep while the storm raged outside.
THE MEETING WAS long over by the time Reece rolled into Remington Industries’ Manhattan headquarters Monday afternoon. He greeted the receptionist with a smile, wondering if they were going to stop him and call security, since he probably no longer had a job.
“Good morning, Mr. Remington,” she said, smiling a little more broadly than usual. Maybe it was because she saw something in him that hadn’t been there before. Something like love.
When he got to his office, he was dismayed to find it empty. Other than the battered furniture, nothing was left to indicate he had spent eight years of his life here.
He guessed his dad hadn’t been kidding.
Strangely, he wasn’t terribly bothered by the fact Archie had carried through with his threat. His father’s actions saved him the trouble of resigning.
“You’re back.”
Reece whirled around to find Archibald Remington III standing right behind him, but not looking as intimidating as usual. Was that a…smile on his face?
Archie patted Reece on the shoulder. “I trust you got my nephew married off in fine form.”
“Um, yeah. The wedding was great.”
“I heard something about a hurricane. Is that what delayed you?”
Hadn’t Reece told him that, like, six times? “Yes.”
“Well, at least you’re back now. Come to my office, we have things to discuss.”
Once inside his palatial office, Archie reached for a wooden box on his desk and held it out to Reece. “Cigar?”
Cigar? Archie had never offered Reece a cigar in his life. “I don’t smoke.”
“Oh, right.” He snapped the box closed, then slid behind his desk and sank into his plush leather desk chair, indicating a wing chair for Reece. “I’ll get down to business, then. Bret told me everything.”
“Every…what?” What the hell was he talking about? How much did he know about Sara?
“Today’s meeting was an unmitigated disaster. A train wreck.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” He genuinely was. Though he was leaving Remington Industries, he had no desire to do harm to the company or his father’s department.
“Your brother came off like a flaming imbecile. Afterward, he told me you’ve been doing all his work for years, and he’s been taking credit for it.”
“Dad,” Reece objected, “that’s just not true.”
“Yes, it is, and I should have seen it. Without you there to prop him up, Bret couldn’t answer the simplest questions.”
“I’m sure he’s just having a bad day.” Reece had never felt he was doing Bret’s work for him. He’d felt more like…like the go-to guy, the one who solved sticky problems, freeing up his brother for more important things.
“He’s having a bad decade,” Archie declared. “There’s no way he can do my job, and he freely admits it. He suggested that if I want a Remington to step into my shoes when I retire, it ought to be you. And after giving it some thought, I agree.”
“Say what?”
“I’m offering you the vice presidency. The board will have to approve, of course, but they’ll go along with whomever I endorse. We’ll have to put in some long hours to get you ready. Are you up to it?”
“So I’m not fired?”
Archie laughed. “Fired? Where would you get that idea? Oh, your empty office. I had your things moved into Ed Jameson’s old office. We’ll be working closely over the next few months, and Ed’s old office is closer to mine.”
The corner office?
To buy time, Reece stood and walked to a side table where a pitcher of ice water and a couple of glasses had been set up. He poured some water and gulped it down.
Vice president. Reece Remington, vice president.
From a professional standpoint, it was everything he’d ever aspired to be-the title, the respect and the chance to chart a course for the company’s financial future.
He let the possibility shimmer in his mind for all of fifteen seconds before he set down his glass with a thud and shook his head. “I can’t do it.”
“Pardon me?”
“Dad, I’m grateful you want to put your faith in me. But I can’t be a vice president. In fact, the only reason I came back here today was to turn in my resignation.”
Archie gaped at him.
