Oswald had only been three when his father was killed by a crate that fell as it was being lifted from a cargo ship. Only two years later his mother died in their tiny, dirty apartment at the hands of a lover who’d gotten her into drugs.
Larry had been the only family willing to take him in. Thank God for Larry, the bachelor uncle. Larry had coached him on how to act around his cousins and much older Uncle Wilton who’d barely acknowledged him unless Oswald had done something stupendously stunning at school or on the pitch, whether it be cricket or football. Fortunately Oswald had brains and he’d quickly learned to use them. It didn’t hurt that he had a fair athletic ability, but his brains far exceeded his physical prowess.
Larry’s close friendship with Courtland Robinson had given Oswald a further boost in the world. Court didn’t have a family title, but he had a family business and estate, both going back several centuries. Not nobility, but certainly a force in the business community, and status with the peerage, his clients. Because Court always treated him fairly and with respect, when Drew had shown up at Eton, a little on the small side and a target for bullies, Oswald, four years his senior, had stepped in and quietly provided not only protection, but he’d taught Drew how to defend himself.
The fact Drew had brains even more powerful than Oswald, and an open, friendly personality, had rocketed him up the academic and social scales at school. So when Drew entered university at the start of Oswald’s second year, it made sense for them to share a flat, something both Larry and Court had encouraged.
So, it was only logical that Court had hired Oswald to work summers and breaks at the offices of Lynford. First he’d spent a summer in the warehouses out Tilbury way learning the flow of inventory, the shipping routes, and how to track it all. Then he’d moved to the offices, starting in the mailroom. Just as Courtney would next week. That made him smile to himself. Old Dennis had ruled the mailroom for going on twenty-five years now and wasn’t likely to retire until he lost the use of his hands to arthritis.
When it became clear Oswald had a head for finance, Court had directed his internship through the accounts department. Larry had even found a few thousand pounds to give him for his sixteenth birthday and shown him how to get started investing. He lost enough on his first try that it scared him into approaching one of the upper level boys at school. One who came from a very rich family that also lacked a title. Fortunately, Abraham had a good grasp of money and the markets, and was willing to share what he knew. Abraham still managed most of Oswald’s investments because he lacked the time to do so himself. For now. Soon he’d have the capital to form a partnership with Abraham.
Oswald only had to give Lynford another year, and gladly, but he knew with Drew now stepping into the company full time, and Courtney doing the same, chances of him ever taking control of Lynford were slim. He liked Lynford, and the Robinson family in particular, but he wanted more. He wanted to be the head of his own company. In his mind it was better than holding a hereditary title from the crown. It meant he’d made it on his own, and not on the shoulders of his ancestors. Sticking with Lynford awhile longer hadn’t been a problem. Not until Court had taken him aside the day before the wedding.
“I have a big favor to ask of you,” Court had opened the conversation just before going into the wedding rehearsal.
“Anything.” Because he owed this man his loyalty, respected him far more than a father figure, and loved him as much as Larry. The two men, close friends themselves, had mentored Oswald into the man he was today.
“I know you have plans for your future that involve leaving Lynford.” Court held up a hand. “I’m not asking, but it’s inevitable. You’ve a brilliant future in anything you choose to do. You think you’ve hit the top at Lynford, and maybe you have, maybe you haven’t, but I’m not here to discuss that. I don’t know your timeline, but I’m asking you, as a favor to me, to stay at least another year.”
Not ready to confess his plans, he merely nodded. “I can hold a year.” Besides, that fit into his timeline, more or less.
“I’m far from dead, but I’m old enough now I need to plan seriously for the unimaginable. Heart attack, stroke like Smithfield had last year, accident, or some other catastrophe. Drew isn’t ready. Even less so is Birdie.”
At the mention of Courtney by her nickname, caution stole over Oswald.
“Should anything happen to me, yes,” Court continued, “the board feels Randi could step in, but she doesn’t like to hear about it. On the other hand, we have Birdie who is ready to take on the London office. At least in her own mind.”
Oswald nodded. Each time Courtney had a break long enough to travel to London, she’d been in the office ghosting Court’s assistant, a sturdy older woman who didn’t put up with any nonsense, but still blushed like a school girl when either Court or he dropped a posy or treat off at her desk. She was also old enough to retire in a few years and was amused by Courtney’s not so subtle ambition to replace her.
“These next twelve months, Randi and I are planning an around-the-world trip. Mostly an extended honeymoon, but we’ll stop in the satellite offices for two to four weeks at a time to get a real feel for things and see if we need to update our processes, find new sources, target new markets.”
Oswald nodded again, but began to have a sinking feeling. Court had mentioned these plans a year ago, but in a more abstract way. It sounded like they weren’t so abstract anymore, but rather on the eve of taking place.
“After the wedding, we’re headed back to England for about a month. During that time I want to shift the balance of power to you. This shouldn’t be a surprise; we’ve discussed it.” Court took a long look around as people were herded into place, and chuckled. “According to my mum, I’m at the rehearsal for show. How did she put it? ‘The only person more useless at a wedding than the groom is the groom’s father.’”
Oswald smiled at the last comment, but answered the first. “Yes, sir. I’m aware of your plans.”
“There’s more. Since Randi and I plan to be out of the country, someone needs to guide and mentor Birdie as she goes through the training period.”
Oswald’s stomach dropped. His eyes sought out Birdie across the vestibule where she stood with her mother ready to help assemble the bodies of the wedding party. She was smiling and chatting with the women around her, completely unaware she was being discussed.
“I see,” he said, merely to fill the silence as Court also gazed at his daughter.
“You know her by now. She’s eager. Perhaps a little too much so. I’m not sure she’s really ready to take on the London office, but she’s determined.”
Yes, Courtney was determined. And possibly a little naïve. She’d discover that when she came up against Dennis and his kingdom in the basement.
“I’m asking you to be her mentor. To keep an eye on her. Possibly head off any animosity that may come her way. I’m fully aware the employees are leery of her. They don’t fully understand her position in my life. As you know, I try to keep the personal side separate. Drew grew up coming to the office so they were used to him when he began working there. But with Courtney, well, from the rumbles I’ve heard, they’re not quite open to accepting her. Many feel she’s a gold digger, taking advantage of me. Nepotism in favor of the daughter isn’t as acceptable as it was for Drew. I’m afraid she might get hurt when she runs into the wall they have in place.”
“She’s a friendly girl, she’ll win them over.”
“Eventually, yes. But it’s the near future that has me concerned. That’s why Randi and I are putting off our travels for a month. I hope to ease her into the office culture, but as her father, it will be awkward. However, you, as my chosen replacement and as her friend, can help. You know the players on a level I don’t. Most of the ones I worked with on my way up the corporate ladder are retired now. The newer ones won’t like her making a fast climb. They’ll see