Her phone rang right on time. Ronald Applebaum, the Sweet family attorney, was never late. It was time to deal with Sweet Chocolate. She never should have let it go this long without making some kind of serious plan for the company. In hindsight she shouldn’t have kept Sweet on the back burner since she’d graduated. This was her family’s legacy. It should have meant more to her, and it was time for her to rectify that.
She had a plan. A good one, one that she’d concocted with a little help from Hugh, who had just returned to the country with a large package for her.
“I bought you hiking boots. I’ll get you a Sherpa when we get to Peru,” he said, before handing her plane tickets for a trip to Lima and an itinerary for the Inca Trail later that year. She didn’t mind him planning ahead.
After days of poring over the notes of every minute from every meeting of the Sweet board of directors since Reginald had passed, she’d decided the best course of action was to initiate a nationwide search for a new president of Sweet Chocolate, someone without the last name Sweet. She wanted someone smart, young, and hungry who would work with her, as the company’s chairwoman, to lead Sweet Chocolate into the twenty-first century. She was excited about endearing the Sweet brand to a new generation, one that was more health conscious but still loved their chocolate. Sweet could still be an indulgence, but they could make it with less sugar and with organic ingredients.
Janey got right to the point with Ronald and assured him she could come down to Charleston as often as it took to get things on track. After that she wanted a direct role, if not an everyday one, in the company’s future. She also wanted access to her trust, the one due to her if she ever came back and ran Sweet Chocolate. “I’ll be running Sweet,” she insisted. “Just not on a daily basis. I’m fulfilling the terms my father requested for me to obtain access to the funds.” Janey took a deep breath. She’d begun to feel a determination that had been lost to her for months, maybe even for years. She had built a successful business once and she could do it again. She wanted the money to fund the kinds of projects she was passionate about.
She’d help Ivy get her boot-camp fitness studio off the ground. With all of the press she’d gotten as the star of SoarBarre, it wouldn’t be hard for her cousin to build up a client base.
Alizza’s designs inspired her. There had to be a way to take affordable bridal to a whole new level. Janey wanted to help her craft an app that would let the bride design her own wedding dress, couture on demand for all body shapes and sizes at reasonable prices. Janey felt unfamiliar pinpricks of excitement as she described the plans out loud.
She could hear the attorney furiously taking notes. He was one of the few people Janey knew who still covered yellow legal pads in endless scrawls of ink. “We can make these things happen.” He paused. Janey could hear a dog howl in the background and the clink of ice cubes in Applebaum’s bourbon breakfast. “We do have to talk about B.”
She’d never signed the document Beau sent her in the hospital. Janey closed her eyes and breathed into her diaphragm. When she opened them she looked down the length of the High Line. An older couple, both of them grey haired and slightly hunched against the morning chill, sat laughing on a nearby bench. She was slim and pretty. He wore an Italian-cut camel hair coat and a loud scarf. Their connection clearly wasn’t a romantic one, but it was obvious they loved each other very much. That could have been us, Janey thought. But it won’t be. Life has to move on.
Ronald continued. “I got a call from the company’s general counsel yesterday. Beau is selling the company, Janey. A large Chinese conglomerate called Xi Fong has put in a sizable offer for B. The decision is Beau’s since he’s the majority stakeholder. But from what I can gather, this is something that’s been in the works for half a year. If I had to bet the bull’s balls on the farm, I’d say he made a deal to get rich right quick while you were out of the picture.”
She wouldn’t take that bet. He was right. Beau was a vain little son of a bitch, but she knew in her heart that pushing her out of the office had nothing to do with what she looked like. He wanted her out of his hair so he could do what he liked with B. That’s what those papers in the hospital were about too. Beau loved money more than he loved Janey. She had packed the photograph from the deb ball into its box and mailed it back to him in the office without adding a note or her signature.
Janey accepted the news from Applebaum with a sense of detachment. She should have been livid, but the anger didn’t come. Was it relief she felt? The idea of staying on at B, propelled by an unhealthy sense of obligation and inertia like a poorly made marriage, would have been impossible. Three months ago she never would have let Beau get away with this. She never would have allowed him to sell everything they’d built to a faceless international corporation. Things were different now. She was different now.
“When is this happening?”
Ronald Applebaum shuffled his papers around. She knew he didn’t have a computer on his desk. His secretary still transcribed all of his emails.
“Next Monday morning. Should I tell them you’ll be attending the meeting? They have to pay you out whether or not you show up.”
“No. Just get me the time of the meeting. They don’t need to know I’ll be there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Thank god for Net-a-Porter. Janey’s standard black suit wouldn’t do for this meeting. She chose a flattering navy blue Roland Mouret stretch crepe sheath dress that hugged her curves. She was never going to be a size 2, or even a 4 or a 6 again, and that was just fine with her. It was amazing how easily weight found its way back when you weren’t starving yourself or forcing your body to burn calories in cruel and unusual ways. She didn’t choose the dress to please Beau or even to impress him. Just the opposite. She chose it because it made her feel confident and fabulous.
Hugh picked her up in his town car and drove her downtown to the meeting, which was completely unnecessary, but welcome. He didn’t attempt small talk. He just held her hand.
Anna, the company’s vice president of delight and Janey’s mole, met her at B’s reception desk. Janey handed the woman an envelope containing a glowing letter of recommendation.
“I called Vera and Ralph and I put in an excellent word for you. Send them your résumé and you’ll have a new job in no time. I removed any reference to delight,” Janey said to her. “I’ll talk to the rest of the staff shortly. No one has to stay if he or she doesn’t want to. Is everyone here?”
Anna nodded and pivoted on her heel to point Janey in the direction of the men waiting in the conference room. Janey made a quick stop to prepare herself an espresso from the obscenely elaborate and confusing professional machine Beau had custom-designed in Milan.