Brice Kingsley stood, flexing every muscle in his body to ensure he remained upright. Thanks to the news he’d just received, Brice was like a volcano ready to explode. The most conservative in his opinions and dress of the Kingsley brothers—CFO of his family’s multi-billion-dollar oil and gas corporation—had traded in his usual business attire for a more casual look: blue jeans, a black button-down shirt and black leather loafers. He’d finally decided to take his brothers’ advice to move on with his life and get past the fact that he’d be divorced soon. His first step was drinks with a few good friends and a couple of very beautiful women.
Brice flew out of his chair, which slid backward when he leaned forward and gripped the table with both hands as if he was holding back his desire to attack. The internal battle he was fighting between disbelief and rage had marred his features.
“What the hell did you say?” The words were out of Brice’s mouth before he could stop them.
There were audible sighs from those sitting down and squeaking from chairs moving before the room fell silent. Brice looked down the long mahogany oval table, past the surprised faces of his eldest brother and two cousins. They sat wide-eyed in the large wingback chairs, staring at the target of his question.
The fair-skinned, wrinkle-free woman pushed her chair back and rose slowly. The shimmery gold gown she wore showcased an immaculate figure of a woman that didn’t look anywhere near her fifty-four years. Victoria Kingsley, the matriarch of the family and CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas, glared back at her third son.
Remembering whom he was speaking to, Brice straightened, returning to his full height of six feet, his hands fisting at his side. “What I meant to ask, was how could you make such a decision without discussing it with me first?” Brice knew better than to ask such a ridiculous question, but in his current state of shock and disbelief he really didn’t know what else to say.
“Victoria, maybe I should—”
Victoria presented the palm of her right hand, stopping her sister, Elizabeth Kingsley, the more reasonable of the two when it came to handling their respective children by most accounts, from interfering and offering up what she knew would be a more sedated explanation for her decision.
Victoria exhaled noisily, collapsed her hands together and held them in front of her. “Let me see. The last time I checked, I was the CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas and one of two—” she wiggled two fingers “—majority stakeholders. My decisions aren’t up for discussion unless I say they are. This is a notification period. Brooke starts tomorrow!”
Brice knew how his mother ran her company, but he still couldn’t understand how she could do something that she knew would be hard for him to handle. “I understand that, Mother, but this is my life we’re talking about.”
Victoria moved to the glass bar that sat in the corner of the room and poured herself a shot of Macallan whiskey. “No, what I made was a business decision. You’re making it personal, son.”
“So, your bringing Brooke back to work here isn’t personal?” he asked, his tone hard. Twenty-seven-year-old Brooke Kingsley was a tax attorney, finance wizard and Brice’s soon-to-be ex-wife.
Victoria took a sip of her drink. “Of course not. You know I don’t do personal when it comes to business.” Her eyes zeroed in on her sister. “Not anymore, anyway. Brooke is excellent at what she does and she knows our company. There are too many people coming after us. The IRS is just the latest. With Keylan going back on the road with the team and taking Mia, another one of our valued employees, with him—”
“Of course he’ll want his wife...his new family by his side. How many times did Alexander ever take a trip without you?” Elizabeth interjected, looking over her shoulder at her sister.
“I can remember one time in particular and so should you.” Victoria looked down at her bare ring finger and tossed back the rest of her drink.
Elizabeth turned away and muttered, “I do. Sorry, Victoria.”
Victoria poured herself another whiskey and her sister a glass of wine. “The point is we need people we can