“I came to talk to you,” he answered.
“About?”
“What’s going on with your husband’s health?”
“Did your father say something to you?” his mother hedged.
“The old man summoned me to the studio, Mom. He says he has health issues. It’s the first time I’ve heard of heart problems. If I’m being manipulated I’d like to know. I canceled a ticket to Haiti and put my life on hold. Tell me what’s going on.”
“He didn’t want you or Christiane to worry,” Lucinda said in a soft voice.
“Really? All his life it’s always been about him.”
Lucinda took the chair across from Salim and crossed a shapely leg. Salim sat back down and waited for his mother to begin.
“Your father is not the ogre you make him out to be. If he’s reaching out to you, it’s because he needs you to step up and take over. The diagnosis from his doctor is not good.”
Salim cracked his knuckles so hard Lucinda flinched.
He didn’t know what to say. “Why didn’t you call me and warn me this was coming, Ma? I’m not management material. I don’t even own a suit.”
She held up a hand, silencing him. “A suit does not make the man. You’ll have plenty of help running TSW. Your dad pays his executive team well for their expertise. What we need is a strong presence at the studio while I nurse him back to health.”
The comment propelled Salim out of his seat. He snorted and began circling the room. “The whole corporate thing makes me want to gag, Ma. I’m not much for the politics or phony people.”
“Then let’s not talk about the situation,” Lucinda said, accepting the cup of tea Tilly handed her. “Tell me about Africa. The jewelry box you brought me is quite lovely and very well crafted. I’ll use it to keep my everyday rings.”
For the next hour while they visited, Lucinda caught him up on what was happening in her life and he shared his. She shared how worried she was about Tanner’s upcoming surgery.
Despite Salim’s feelings about his father, he threaded his fingers through his mother’s and squeezed her hand hard. Lucinda sniffled loudly and took a sip from her cup. Speaking more to herself than to him, she said, “There’s nothing more relaxing than a well-brewed cup of tea.”
By subtly shifting the conversation, they ended the visit on an upbeat note.
In an overt act of rebelliousness, Salim arrived at TSW studios on Thursday in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that had seen better days. His father was nowhere to be found when he arrived. Diane made the usual excuses.
“Your dad’s in a meeting,” she said, pointing him to a seat and picking up yet another phone. Salim soon got tired of hanging out in the waiting area. He was about to take a walk when along came Kennedy Fitzgerald. Today she was dressed in another of those sharp conservative suits.
Today’s getup was a pin-striped suit, the skirt skimming the knees of her beautifully shaped legs. Pearls circled her neck and she sported matching earrings. No one dressed like this in Seattle, not even the lawyers. But Kennedy Fitzgerald made her conservative suit look becoming, even sexy.
The three-inch heels of her pumps beat out a rat-atat as she approached Diane’s desk.
“I’m a few minutes early,” she said in a very refined voice.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Washington is running a few minutes late. Why don’t you introduce yourself to Salim, his son? He’s seated over there.” Di pointed a finger to the corner where he was seated. “You two are in the same meeting and this may be a good opportunity to get acquainted.”
He could kill Diane. She’d put him in a spot. Now he couldn’t very well walk away without being rude. He forced himself to smile, wave and pat the spot next to him. “Please join me. There’s plenty of space.”
Kennedy looked at him as if she smelled something slightly unpleasant. She started toward him gingerly.
The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“You look lovely,” he said.
He was surprised when Kennedy Fitzgerald actually had the grace to blush.
Chapter 4
Kennedy picked up on the tension between father and son. Salim remained slouched in a chair, not saying a word, while his father outlined his plan. Thunderous was the only way to describe his expression. He made no secret he was not at all happy about what his father was planning.
“When are you expecting to step down from your position?” Kennedy asked the studio head.
“My surgery is scheduled for two weeks from today. I’ll be here to at least transition Salim into his role.”
“And what are you expecting me to accomplish during those two weeks?” Kennedy asked, jotting notes as the senior Washington spoke.
“First things first. Salim will have to learn to dress the part of a successful executive.”
“Are you expecting her to take me shopping?” Salim sneered, at last breaking his silence.
“No, there’s no time. We’ll have a tailor and a personal shopper come onto the premises. Kennedy can help you pick out your suits, shirts and ties.”
Salim glared at Kennedy. “The hell she will!”
When she’d accepted the job of grooming Salim Washington into the man his father thought he could be, she knew it would be no easy task. From the very beginning she’d seen rebel written all over him, but at the same time there was a restless, adventuresome spirit that she’d found very attractive.
“You’re stepping into the role of president of a prestigious television studio,” his father reminded him quietly. “You need to look the part.”
“That may be so but I don’t require a woman to dress me, nor do I need another mother.”
“Kennedy is a leadership consultant.”
“And a total waste of company money.”
Salim popped out of his seat and bounded toward the window. He turned his back on both of them and stared out onto the parking lot.
The conversation continued as if he didn’t exist. Ignoring his son, Tanner Washington handed Kennedy a sheet of paper.
“I’ve highlighted and prioritized everything I expect you to accomplish.”
Kennedy glanced at the paper because that was what was expected of her.
“I’m expected to teach your son table manners?” she asked in a low voice.
“I’m expecting that you’ll teach him how to be a gracious host. Now, if that includes knowing which fork to use, and when to use it, then so be it. This position requires he entertain influential people.”
“Don’t talk about me as if I don’t exist,” Salim groused. “How long will I have to put up with Ms. Fitzgerald shadowing me?”
Tanner took his son’s ill humor in stride. “For as long as it takes. The sooner you get your hands around this business and work on your people skills, the sooner you’ll be on your own. I don’t anticipate being out very long. People with heart transplants are on their feet in days, and this is bypass surgery.”
Kennedy privately thought the older Washington man was being overly optimistic.
Salim’s glance took in his father’s spacious surroundings. The suite was larger than most people’s apartments and had several rooms.
“Will