I’d always found this table to be insanely big. They'd purchased it years ago, insisting they wanted all eight grandkids to have a seat at the table. But as far as I was concerned, I only had four brothers.
My younger brothers had embraced our father'sotherfamily as if it hadn't broken Mom's heart. Colton and I were the oldest and were the odd ones out on this. We witnessed firsthand what the pain of divorce did to our mother, and we weren't quick to forgive.
"You know," Grandmother began, "Whitley Industries has many branches."
"I know," I replied, careful not to sound short. Whitley Industries had tendrils reaching everywhere in Boston. It was involved in biotech, advertising, magazine publishing, coffee, and craft distillery, among many others. My brothers were running four of the Whitley businesses, and my half brothers owned three of the bunch.
"I don't know if your brothers told you, but the advertising branch is failing," Grandfather said.
"We really don’t talk about Whitley Industries, Grandfather. Honestly, I don't have time for that." I'd built my own company from the ground up. I owned a management consultancy. I turned businesses around, and I made a very good living at it too. Besides, no one from the family ran Whitley Advertising.
"We figured you probably didn't. It's sinking," Grandmother said.
"It's been a money pit for years," I agreed. Thirteen years ago, before the family discovered my father led a double life, everyone hailed him as a genius. He seemed to have it all together. He'd led Whitley Industries after Grandfather retired, taking it to unparalleled heights. Everyone in the area praised Ryan Whitley for being so good at multitasking companies. On the surface, he seemed to be doing great. After he'd hightailed out of town, it turned out that several of the companies he'd created under the Whitley Industries umbrella were struggling. It had forced Grandfather out of retirement.
My older brother, Colton, took over the biotech branch. He was a CEO as much as he was a scientist. Spencer ran the publishing branch, Cade took over the coffee production, and Gabe had the craft distillery. I’d chosen my own path. I'd been the one who discovered our father's infidelity at twenty, and I’d wanted nothing to do with Whitley Industries.
It had been a hard time for all of us—my brothers, our mother, and our grandparents. They’d been shocked at their son’s betrayal. Even today, we rarely spoke about him.
"Listen, Grandson, we're not going to beat around the bush. We want to ask you to help turn it around." Grandfather was direct as usual, something I appreciated myself.
I straightened in my chair. "Okay. Let me check with my team, and we’ll take it on as soon as possible.” There was no sense arguing with my grandparents; I knew they wouldn’t ask this of me unless they felt they had no choice. Although I wasn’t excited about adding another thing to my plate, I would do anything for my family.
Grandfather shook his head. "No, not like a project. Not like a client. It needs more than that."
"My team is very good, Grandfather," I assured him.
He took another swig of bourbon before putting it down.
"We want you to come to Boston for a while, take over the reins of the company until you turn it around."
It took a few seconds for me to realize what they implied. I wasn’t happy about where this was going. "You don't have a CEO?"
"No," Grandmother replied, looking none too happy. "He quit months ago, and your grandfather has tried to put out fires in the meantime."
I couldn't believe this. My grandfather was eighty-eight. He'd gone into retirement for the second time eight years ago. Putting out fires wasn't the relaxing retirement the doctor prescribed after his heart attack.
I looked from one to the other. "Why am I only hearing about this now?"
"We know talking about the company upsets you, and we didn't want to ask unless it was absolutely necessary. Now it is," Grandfather explained.
I chose my next words carefully because the people sitting across from me meant the world to me. After my father's infidelity was revealed, he left town, and Mom got sick. Our grandparents did their best to keep the family together, to keep us all from sinking. It hadn't been easy.
"I have my own company to run, and it would be impossible for me to take over, even as a temporary CEO.” I saw the disappointment on their faces and felt like shit. “What I can do is help you find another one as soon as possible while also putting my team on the case to start to turn things around."
My grandmother's smile was strained. Damn it, I hated that. I didn't want to let them down, but I really didn’t have other options. My life was in New York and had been for the last eleven years. I had clients who personally depended on me. They wouldn't be very happy if I suddenly moved to Boston, even if I kept up with my business by working remotely.
"All we ask of you is to consider it. Your grandfather isn't getting any younger," grandmother said.
I barely bit back a smile. Grandmother was going for the emotional attack, and she was very good at it. Every time I called her, I got a guilt trip about moving out of Boston in the first place. But back then, I'd wanted a fresh start, and I'd wanted nothing to do with Whitley Industries.
"That’s all we have to say, Jake.” Grandfather looked beat. I hated to think he was spending time at that damn company. I had to figure something out. Maybe my brothers could help me consider all the options.
“Are you meeting your brothers while you're here?" Grandmother asked, as if guessing my thoughts.
"Yes, of course. I'm catching up with them later." I looked at my watch—later being in forty minutes.
My grandfather shook his head. "Grandson, I know you're a busy man, but don't go around living your life in one-hour increments, counting down every minute. Before you know it, you'll be an old man wondering how life passed you by."