There was no doubt Gareth had looked over everything thoroughly. Charles also knew his motivation was to get it done and over with. Gareth was useful to the company with his knack of finding things no one else could. He was almost tempted to let him dig into that contract Dylan brought him. But doing so would open a door Charles already considered closed.
“Is there anything I should know?” Charles asked.
“You want to meet for lunch and discuss what I found?”
That wasn’t an answer. “Why don’t you come to my office now? I’m free at the moment.”
There was no way Gareth hadn’t heard him. “There is this cute waitress that—”
“I’m busy.”
“I thought you said you were free,” Gareth said.
Not to hear about your latest conquest.“To talk business.”
“Charles, you need to loosen up a bit. It doesn’t all fall on your shoulders, you know. We’re all here to support you anytime you need it.”
Charles bit back his sarcastic remark. Pissing off one brother a day was his limit. There had been a few occasions where he may have exceeded it. It was easy for Gareth and the others to say they were all in, but actually following through was another thing. Not only did they each have their own lives and businesses to maintain, they were still getting used to the day to day workings of Lawson Steel. It was going to take time to know when something was wrong.
Even though he didn’t have time to screw off, this was his brother. Charles needed to make the time. If he didn’t, the days turned into weeks and then into months before they saw each other socially. But he wasn’t going out for “legs and eggs” as Gareth called it. Why exotic dance clubs served breakfast all day made as little sense as why his brother went there to eat.
“Lunch, at The Choice. I’ll meet you in the lobby at one.” Charles ended the call before Gareth could protest. Gareth probably wasn’t actually in the building anyway. This might be the only way to get him into the office. Keeping him at a desk was going to take a lot more than anything Charles could come up with for him to do. I probably would need to hire him a hot looking secretary. But then I’d have to deal with the sexual harassment complaints. This was one of the days he wished he wasn’t the CEO.
There might be six of them, but Charles was the one who’d worked by their father’s side all along. It was a burden the others didn’t understand, and truthfully, he didn’t want them to. Since birth, Charles had been groomed for this. When the others were off spending their summers doing what they wanted, he was stuck going with his father from one construction site to another. The worst had been sitting quietly during the meetings. His father told him you learn a lot just watching people. Actions told more than words.
It probably was the most valuable lesson he’d learned, and he applied it to all his dealings. People thought he was quiet, and some accused him of being standoffish. They were way off the mark. He let them talk themselves into a corner and enjoyed watching as they tried to get themselves out.
This tactic had backfired a few times, usually when dealing with the opposite sex. He would listen, and then the moment came when they asked what he thought. Charles always gave them his honest opinion. It wasn’t always accepted as well as he anticipated. Hell, a few times it made Dylan’s reaction seem warm and friendly. He’d even caught a few slaps across the face, probably well-deserved in their eyes. But Charles was known for being brutally honest and had no time for idle chatter. Charles was all about Lawson Steel, all the time.
That wasn’t the case for his siblings. They each had chosen their own paths, for the most part. But they had been groomed to someday work as a whole to take C. J. Lawson Steel to the next level. What none of them knew, and couldn’t, was a stipulation for Charles to continue running the company. Charles needed to somehow unite them but not by having them all work in the same building.
There was one contract Lawson Steel had never been able to obtain. Not only did he need to knock Grayson, their only competitor he took seriously, out of the running, but he also needed all five of his brothers to agree to sign the contract. Since they were butting heads on the insignificant ones, he was dreading what was going to happen when he broached the subject. From how his meeting with Dylan had gone, he might be creating a bigger wedge instead of making progress.
Charles didn’t intentionally piss Dylan off, but he wasn’t going to give in when he knew he was right either. Charles had been taught how to manage anyone, but family was different, and he needed to somehow learn a new way. This was something he couldn’t ask his father for advice on either.
This business had been passed down for several generations. Hell, Charles was the seventh generation of Lawsons to man the helm. He was proud of the legacy, no different than being named after them all. Charles Joseph Lawson the Seventh. The title came with power and prestige in the business world.
The only drawback from that title was the endless pressure to ensure someday there was an eighth in line to carry on the name. Charles was in no rush to tie the knot. He was thirty-eight, not ninety-eight. There was plenty of time to have children, if he wanted.
That was the key, if he wanted. No matter what his father thought, Charles wasn’t marrying to provide an heir. And the way things were going, it didn’t look like he’d be marrying for love either. He was willing to take on the company, and all the responsibility that went along with it. But no one was pushing him into anything more than that. His personal life was off limits. His brothers had gotten that message a long time ago, their father, not so much.
But times were changing faster than his father could keep up with or understand. This generation was global. It was nothing for him to be in New York one week then Dubai the next for work with a stop in Paris to meet friends for dinner. The need to be on each job site in person, ensuring everything was as designed, no longer was required. People were hired to video and photograph every step of the construction. Not just per the contract, but for insurance purposes as well. It was all about covering your ass, or assets as Charles called it.
When his father ran the business, if a customer had an issue, you talked it out like men, sometimes shouting a few threats, but that was all, and then you fixed whatever the customer thought was wrong. Now everything was done through a third party. The only time you found out there was a problem was when you heard about it from a lawyer, and it was settled in court if not negotiated prior to that. There were definitely people who used the court system to make money. But those should be held accountable, because they chose to use substandard materials, and that was something Charles never would tolerate.
Things like that made Charles very particular about which contact he was signing. No matter what Dylan believed, once a contractor was questioned for unethical behaviors, guilty or not, he proceeded with twice as much caution. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. It just learns to hunt more wisely. And Charles needed to be a tad smarter than them, so he didn’t fall for anyone’s bullshit.
The grandfather clock chimed once. The morning had gotten away from him with distractions that were . . . unnecessary.And that’s exactly what this lunch with Gareth is.
Rosslyn Clark was running late. If she kept her uncle waiting any longer, he was going to complain to her father. If he hadn’t already. But the job hadn’t been her idea, and the way her morning had gone, the universe was telling her not to take it.
Rosslyn needed to work, and her uncle was willing to bring her in with a salary she could only dream of. How she could actually earn that amount was beyond her. Rosslyn had told her father it was out of her comfort zone. She was great with people and would make a great receptionist, but what did she know about being a personal assistant?
Rosslyn told herself it was going to be like scheduling her own day’s activities, just with a bigger expense account and a lot more at stake. Outside of scheduling things, Rosslyn had no idea what a personal assistant did. Probably pick up dry cleaning and bring him coffee. Two things I know I can do.
As she entered the restaurant she was greeted by the hostess. “Welcome to The Choice. Do you have a reservation?”
Rosslyn didn’t miss the once-over the hostess gave her. You’re no different than me. We both get paid by the hour. Holding her tongue, she forced a smile and said, “I’m meeting Unc—Mr. Maxwell Grayson.”