1

GRIFFIN

The funeral begins with the warbly tones of prayers from the priest. I check my phone, quickly shooting off a few texts and emails while the somber ceremony continues. David wouldn’t want me to let our business go to hell just because he’s died. Well, he and his wife.

I told them I didn’t think their plans to reach the peak of Mt. Everest were a good idea, simply because their time could be better spent building our business empire. But they didn’t listen. They always had the spirit of adventure in their veins. After training for almost a year, they began their trek. But after the base camp and then a few farther up the mountain, they went missing in the high snow as a storm rolled in.

Mourning isn’t something I intend to do here in view of all these friends, family, and business associates. It’s not in my nature. So instead, I conduct business, letting partners know that Griffin Endeavors, Inc. will continue to lead the world in the development of top-notch tech.

“And now, Charles would like to say a few words.” The priest steps back so David and Laverne’s son can stand at the foot of their graves.

He’s unsteady on his feet, his cheeks pink from the cold and the alcohol. “Mom and Dad were good people. The best, really. When I was little …”

He continues as I check a few more emails, sending a few to my secretary Linn for follow-up.

I feel an elbow at my side and turn to find Linn right next to me. “You’re not at the office?” I whisper.

She gives me a teary yet horrified look and shakes her head. “I was his secretary, too. You know that, right? For almost ten years. Of course I’m here.” She dabs her tears away with her handkerchief and turns back to listen to Charles.

I suppose I’ve been a bit oblivious to everyone here. If I’m being honest, it’s because this whole fiasco reminds me far too much of my own parents’ funerals. The stodgy priest and the onlookers who range from barely knowing the deceased to people like Charles, just an overgrown kid who’s lost without them. I was him a long time ago. But I don’t have any solace to offer, no special knowledge to grant him. We all suffer. So I return to my phone, controlling the things I can instead of the things I can’t.

Charles rambles on about good times and bad times, the wind picking up as the caskets are finally lowered into the ground. I’m well back from them as the family members sitting in the rows of chairs closest drop flowers and tears into the yawning graves.

I’d rather honor them by continuing to build our companies and making a bright future for their kids. Charles is clearly going to need some support now that his parents are gone, and I’ve yet to see Vivian, their younger daughter. I wonder if she’s one of the children along the front row. There are only a couple. I should send her a toy or something like that, anything to brighten her world now that her parents are gone.

“Linn, send a toy to Vivian for me, please. Something bright and sparkly to cheer her up.”

Linn looks up at me, her eyebrows drawing together. “A toy?”

“Yes, I assume children are still interested in those?”

“Well, yes, but–”

“Griffin?” Frank, one of our lawyers, reaches out to shake hands. “Oh, sorry, Linn. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You aren’t interrupting. I’m going to kiss Charles and Vivian, then head back to the office.” She turns to me, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. “I suggest you do the same.”

“I’ll be in the office as soon as–”

“I meant, go see about the kids!” She turns on her heel and stomps off.

I stare after her, at a loss.

“Emotions run high on days like this,” Frank says with a shrug.

“That’s true.” I watch Linn pick through the crowd and stop to hug a particularly curvy young woman. Damn, the ass on her has my mouth watering, even though it’s absolutely inappropriate given the setting. She speaks to her for a moment before continuing on her way to the front row where Charles and a little girl are still seated. Poor Vivian, she can’t be more than what, twelve?

Though I know I should be following Linn’s advice and going over to offer my condolences to the kids, I can’t seem to stop watching the woman in the black dress with the hourglass figure. She has snagged my attention. Something not easily done.

“Griffin?” Frank asks, and I can tell from his tone he’s been calling my name a few times.

“Yes, sorry about that.”

“It’s all right.” He leans closer. “We need to discuss a few things to do with the will.”

“Their will?” I raise my brows. “I thought they put everything into trust.”

“They did, of course. But they still left instructions for their children. I believe they did this before Charles came of age, but their instructions are still legally binding should you want to accept your position as guardian.”


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