A Winter Dream

Chapter


Twenty-nine


Even a broken heart can still hold love.

Joseph Jacobson’s Diary





I hardly slept Wednesday night. My emotions ranged wildly. My brothers had sent me out into the wilderness. I should have hated them for what they did, but if they hadn’t banished me, I never would have achieved what I had. I never would have become creative director of one of the world’s largest advertising agencies. Nor would I have met April. Considering how much I had suffered over losing her, that may not seem like a good thing. But even as painful as our separation was, I still would have chosen to meet her. To have felt her love, even for the short time I had it, was better than to not know that such love existed. At least that’s what I told myself.

No matter my brothers’ intent, no matter the pain they’d inflicted on me, I was grateful for what they had done. But that had little to do with the purchasing of the advertising agency. The bigger question was, could I work with them? And that depended on the biggest question of all: Given the chance, would they do what they had done again? Had they remorse for sending me away? That was what would determine whether or not we could work together.



Ultimately, their hearts would determine their fates.

Thursday morning, as I was shaving, I took a good look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I had changed a lot in the last three years. Not just mentally and emotionally, but physically as well. I inventoried those changes. I had lost weight and grown more muscular. More angular. I had changed my hairstyle, which was a much bigger thing than you might expect. My father, being a soldier during the “make love not war” sixties, abhorred “hippie hair.” So, like my brothers, I had always kept it short and above the ear. Now it touched my collar and my ears were all but invisible. My father would be aghast.

My wardrobe had changed dramatically as well—thanks to a change of scene and a company credit card. I definitely looked more suited to New York than Denver. Getting ready for work, I put on a navy blue Armani suit with a turtleneck. I doubted they’d recognize me. Honestly, I don’t think I would have recognized me.

There were also the intangibles. I once read somewhere that context is 90 percent of recognition, and my brothers certainly weren’t expecting to see me. Still, if you’ve ever read a romance novel, you know the eyes are always the giveaway.

I put on a pair of yellow-lens Ray-Ban sunglasses, then took out my Colorado driver’s license and compared visages in the mirror. A cop would definitely question my identity. I was certain that my brothers wouldn’t recognize me.



As I walked into my office, I reminded Krysten not to use my real name. An hour later she buzzed my office.

“They’re here,” she said.

My heart raced. “Show them in.”

“Right away.”

Rupert came in first. While I had worried about him recognizing me, the truth was, I almost didn’t recognize him. Actually either of them. Simon had also changed. They looked older: gray and weary, the way stress and hard times change you.

“Mr. Joseph,” Rupert said, extending his hand. “I’m Rupert Jacobson. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

I stood, firmly taking his hand. “It’s my pleasure.” I turned to Simon, thinking he had changed even more than Rupert. “And you are?”

“Simon Jacobson,” he said, extending his hand.

I took his hand. The same hand that had given me the pen to sign my resignation. “Jacobsons. Are you brothers?”

“Yes, sir,” Simon said.

“So it’s a family business. Have a seat.”

After they were seated, Rupert said, “You have a beautiful office.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You should see the skyline at night. Last week the Empire State Building was lit green and black to celebrate the twenty-year anniversary of Wicked.” I sat down at my desk and leaned back in my chair, studying them. I wondered if, on a subconscious level, they recognized my voice. “You must forgive my glasses. I’ve just had my eyes examined. They’re dilated.”

“Of course,” Rupert said, smiling nervously. “I just thought you looked cool. Like Bono.”

Simon likewise smiled. “Me too,” he said.

“As you know,” I said, “Leo Burnett is looking at expanding into the Rocky Mountain area and we’re interested in your firm. We’ve examined your books, but I’d like to hear about your agency from you.” I turned to Rupert. “You’re the CEO?”

“No, sir. I’m the general manager.”

“Oh,” I said, feigning disappointment. “This meeting wasn’t important enough for your CEO?”

Rupert blanched. “No, sir,” he said quickly. “I mean, it was, sir. It’s just that our CEO hasn’t been well lately. He hasn’t been able to travel.”

Even though Mr. Ferrell had told me this earlier, hearing it from my brothers made it somehow more real. I took a moment to compose myself. “Your CEO isn’t well?”

“No, sir.”

I hesitated, gathering my emotions. “What’s wrong with him?”

“You might say we’ve suffered a loss in the family,” he said. “He’s not dealing with it very well.”

This news frightened me. I wondered about my mother and Ben. What if something had happened to one of them? I struggled to remain stoic. “Has there been a death?”

“No,” Rupert said. “One of his sons left home. He took it very hard.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said softly. “Losing a family member can be difficult. How about you two? It must have been difficult for you as well.”

They were both quiet.

“No?”

“It’s been very difficult,” Rupert said.

I eyed Simon. “Was it?”

He nodded.

“What is his name? This brother of yours.”

Simon looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure that this discussion is relevant to . . .”

“Normally it wouldn’t be,” I said sternly. “But since we’re looking at purchasing a family business, I would think the state of the family would be extremely relevant to our investigation, wouldn’t you, Mr. Jacobson?”

He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes, sir. My apologies. I just didn’t want to get too personal.”

“The nature of this investment is personal. What is your brother’s name?”

“It’s Joseph, sir,” Simon said.

“And why did he leave?”

Long silence. Then Simon said, “He wanted to try something new—a bigger agency. In fact, he was hired by your agency. Leo Burnett of Chicago.”

“Then he’s with us,” I said. “Interesting. I assume he’s still employed there.”

“We’re not sure,” Rupert said. “We’ve lost contact with him.”

“I can check on that. Since he understands the Leo Burnett corporate culture, I’m sure that what he’d have to tell us about the compatibility of our two agencies will be helpful.”

Both of the men looked anxious.

I turned to Simon. “If I ask him why he left, he’ll corroborate your story?”

More silence. Then Simon said, “No, sir. He probably won’t.”

“What would he tell me?”

“He would probably say that it was my fault he left. I forced him out.”

I frowned. “Why would you do that?”

Another pause.

“This is very uncomfortable.”

“Please continue. The more I know, the better prepared I will be to make a recommendation to our CEO.”

Simon exhaled slowly. “I was jealous of him. He was more talented than me and my father knew it. I was afraid I would lose my job to him.”

I looked at him coolly. “This concerns me,” I said. “A corporate culture that punishes success will never succeed.”

“Clearly,” Rupert said.

“Have you sought to make amends with this brother?”

“We’ve wanted to,” Rupert said. I noticed the emotion in his eyes. “But we didn’t know how to reach him.”

“You just told me he was employed with our Chicago office. Certainly you could have found him.”

“The truth is,” Simon said, “we were too ashamed.”

Rupert nodded in agreement.

After a moment I exhaled slowly. “Okay. Enough of this matter.” I lifted a sheet of paper. “We had our accounting department conduct a detailed audit of the last five years of your financial books. They’ve brought something to my attention. There seems to be a discrepancy in your finances.

“About three years ago there was a sizable nonitemized disbursement to one of your employees. If my memory doesn’t fail me, his name is Benjamin.”

I noticed both of them squirm.

“This Benjamin also has the last name of Jacobson so may I assume he’s one of your family?”

“Yes, sir,” the brothers said almost in unison.

“He’s our brother,” Rupert said.

“Another brother? How many of you are there?”

“Twelve brothers, sir,” Simon said. “And one sister.”

“What a family,” I said, shaking my head as if in amazement. “But back to the company. The amount of the disbursement was thirty-six thousand dollars. What can you tell me about this?”

“He borrowed the money,” Rupert said.

“Borrowed from a public held company?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you a bank as well as an agency?”

“No, sir,” Rupert said.

“I don’t need to tell you that’s not good business practice. But, why then wasn’t this disbursement originally recorded as a loan? In fact, it would appear that there was an attempt to conceal it.”

Both brothers sat silently.

“Is this something that your father was involved with?”

“No, sir,” Rupert blurted out.

“Then your father, CEO, was unaware of what was going on at his own firm.”

Rupert looked down for a moment, then back to me. “Mr. Joseph, I know this looks bad. But it’s not my father’s fault. This whole thing was a fiasco, but it was a fluke—a one-time event. Please keep this in the context of decades of company success.”

“Noted,” I said. I sat back and looked at them for a moment. I honestly felt bad for them. For their desperation. “I noticed a strange coincidence here. The time of this ‘loan’ coincides with your brother Joseph’s departure from the firm. Was he somehow involved in this matter?”

“Yes,” Simon said.

His answer surprised me. “He was?”

“It’s just that I used that incident to coerce him to leave the firm.”

“How did you do that?”

“He wanted to just pay the money back for his brother. But I told him that if he didn’t leave the state I would file legal action against Ben. Ben is his full brother.”

“F-o-o-l or f-u-l-l brother?” I asked.

“The latter,” Rupert said.

“So, this Joseph is guilty of attempting to conceal what may be considered a fraudulent act. And he is currently working at our agency. Unfortunately, I’ll have to respond to that.”

Both brothers blanched.

“Mr. Joseph,” Rupert said, “the only thing my brother Joseph is guilty of is mercy. He had nothing to do with any of this. We put him in a horrible position. If anyone should be fired, it’s me. This is my failure. I never should have involved him in this affair.” He paused with emotion. “Let him keep his job. Please don’t punish him for my actions.”

“Unfortunately, that is the way the world works,” I said. “Right or wrong, others are always affected by our actions.”

“Then I ask you to let me pay for my mistake.”

Simon looked up. “Make that two of us. The entire thing was my idea.”

I gazed at them for a long time, realizing that, in a way, their course had been worse than mine. I wondered how much guilt they had carried for the last three years.

“Does your father know the truth about why his son left?”

They both shook their heads.

“He was so upset,” Rupert said. “We were afraid he would just dissolve the agency and throw us out of his life. We deserved that, but he didn’t deserve that.”

I thought over his words. “So let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you’re both willing to sacrifice your jobs for this brother Joseph?”

They were both quiet, then Rupert said, “If it comes to that. Yes, I am.”

“And you?” I asked Simon.

He nodded sadly. “Yes, sir.”

Their answers filled me with emotion. “So tell me,” I said softly. “If your brother Joseph was right here in this room, right now, what would you say to him?”

Simon’s voice broke with emotion. “I would ask his forgiveness.”

“And you?” I asked Rupert.

He nodded, too emotional to speak. “The same.”

“Do you think he should grant you forgiveness?”

Simon looked down, then said, “No. He shouldn’t. But I would hope he would at least know how sorry we are.”

I was having trouble hiding my own emotion. I let the moment linger a bit longer, then I said, “Everyone makes mistakes. The real question is, what have we learned from them.” I pushed back from the desk. “The thing about buying an agency is that we’re not buying bricks and mortar. We’re buying an organization. A past and, hopefully, a future. Jacobson has been a winning team for nearly thirty years. And you two men may share in the blame of this unfortunate incident, but you also share the credit for a lot of good work. Most of all, you have learned a valuable lesson.”

I turned away and lifted my glasses to wipe my eyes. Then I turned back to them.

“The thing about life that is most interesting to me, is how often good comes from evil. If you hadn’t banished your brother, you probably would still be resenting him . . . and he wouldn’t be here today to save you and the agency.”

Both brothers looked at me quizzically.

“I don’t understand,” Rupert said.

I took off my sunglasses. “Rupert. Simon. It’s me.”

They still didn’t recognize me.

“. . . Your brother Joseph.”

I saw the light of recognition come to Rupert’s eyes. “Joseph?”

“You don’t know your own brother?”

Rupert began to cry. “J.J.”

Simon sat there, staring in disbelief.

I walked to the front of my desk. Rupert also stood and we embraced. Then I turned to Simon. He was afraid to look at me. Ashamed.

“This was all my fault,” he said, shaking his head.

“Then I have you to thank as well,” I replied.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are. You just proved it.”

He stood and we embraced. Then he began to cry. Actually, he began to sob, perhaps the release of years of guilt and remorse. “How can you forgive us after what we did to you?”

“That’s what family does, brother. Forgive. Besides, you did me a favor. My life never would have been this full if it wasn’t for you.” I stepped back from Simon and smiled at them both as tears welled up in my eyes. “It’s so good to see you again. Now come on. I’ll show you the town. We’ve got a few years to catch up on.”