Loping toward the front porch, Hudson formulated the speech he hoped would convince his father. Hudson strode through the house until he reached the office at the far end of the first floor. Armed with Carter’s facts and figures, Hudson knocked on the dark oak-paneled door.
“Come in.” H. P. Conrick’s deep voiced boomed from the other side.
Hudson pushed open the door. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, son. What can I do for you today?”
“I’ve got a project to run by you.”
H.P. motioned toward the chair next to his cherry-inlaid mahogany desk. “Have a seat.”
As he made himself comfortable, Hudson studied his father and tried to gauge his mood. With his silver-gray hair and trim physique, H.P. was a commanding figure, even a little intimidating. Hudson took a deep breath and then started to explain the details of his bid on the women’s shelter project at The Village. His father appeared to be listening intently but with a skeptical attitude.
“Why is this so important to you? Does it have anything to do with a pretty blonde?”
Hudson knit his eyebrows together. “Why would you say that?”
H.P.’s laughter echoed through the room. “The Clarks mentioned seeing you with a lovely young lady in a red dress. They were quite impressed with her.”
Had this information reached his mother’s ears? She would be all over it—her matchmaking antennae at full strength. Hudson couldn’t deny an interest in Melody, but when it came to women, caution was his operative word. He wasn’t about to fall into the trap of women who used him for his wealth again, no matter how appealing Melody Hammond might be. He wanted to get to know her in his own time and see what kind of person lay behind her pretty face.
“Melody’s in charge of the women’s ministries at The Village, and this is a cause Conrick Industries can get behind—good PR for the company and a worthy cause, too.” Hudson squared his shoulders. “I want to be in charge of this endeavor.”
H.P. wrinkled his brow. “Ridiculous. You’ve not worked on the construction side of the business for years. Why would you think you’re qualified to be in charge?”
Doubts crowded Hudson’s mind, but he shoved them aside. “It’s true I haven’t been involved in that part of the business since before I was in the army, but it’s still my first love when it comes to Conrick Industries.”
“I’ve nearly decided to divest the construction portion of the business. It’s too volatile and hasn’t produced substantial income in recent years.” H.P. stood and pounded his desk, his voice raised. “And now you’re asking me to practically give away our services. I won’t do that no matter how good the publicity.”
Hudson hoped his dad wouldn’t blow up. “Do you have a prospective buyer?”
“No, but I’ll close it down if I can’t find one. Better than pouring money into a losing proposition.”
“What about the people who work there? They’ll lose their jobs.”
H.P. knit his shaggy eyebrows. “Hard business decisions must be made.”
“Let me take it off your hands.”
H.P. sat on the front of his desk and narrowed his gaze. “You want to take over a business that’s struggling to survive?”
The consequences of failure swirled through Hudson’s thoughts. What would he prove to his dad if he didn’t succeed? Hudson wanted to strike out on his own, and the perfect opportunity had just materialized. “I do. I’ll take it as my part of the inheritance. You can draw up the papers, and I won’t expect another thing from your will.”
His dad pushed himself away from the desk and began pacing back and forth across the black, gold and cream colored design in the Oriental rug. Finally, he stopped, disapproval radiating from his eyes. “It can’t happen. That’s not what I have planned for you.”
Hudson took a deep breath. “Dad, I’ve told you before. I don’t want to take over the family business—”
“You don’t have a choice.” H.P. glared at Hudson.
“Elizabeth wants the job. She’s worked at the company and is well qualified. She has an MBA to go along with her talent. Her kids are grown, and she could devote her time to the business. She’d be the perfect one to step into your shoes when you decide to retire.”
“No. Do you understand me? You’re going to do as I say and take over the company. Your sister’s not as well versed as you.”
“Only because you resisted letting her learn the ropes.” Hudson stood and went to the window that looked out on the piney woods running up to the expanse of barely green lawn. What would it take to change his father’s mind? He turned, trying to keep his cool in the wake of his father’s displeasure. “You have a few years to teach her everything you know. She’s smart, and she’s good at what she does. It’s been her dream to step into your shoes since she was two.”
With a glower on his face, H.P. joined Hudson at the window. “What do you mean since she was two?”
Hudson strode over to the built-in bookcases that covered a whole wall and picked up a photo frame that contained a collage. He pointed to the photo in one corner. “See.”
A begrudging smile crept across his dad’s face as he studied the photo of his eldest daughter wearing his shoes when she was a toddler. Shaking his head, he narrowed his gaze as he looked at Hudson. “I don’t care what you say. A Conrick son takes over for the father. That’s the way it’s always been done, and that’s the way it’ll stay.”
“If something will work better doing it a different way, don’t you change instead of sticking with the old way?”
H.P. gave Hudson a begrudging nod. “I suppose.”
“Dad, bring the company into the twenty-first century. Let Elizabeth take over.”
“You’re wasting your breath if you think you can change my mind.” H.P. boomed his annoyance.
“For now, will you at least let me run the construction division?” Hudson held his breath, waiting for his dad’s reaction.
“If you do, I’ll expect you to make money. I won’t tolerate losses.”
“And there won’t be any.” Hudson wished he could be sure of that statement. Was he stepping out on a limb that wouldn’t hold him?
“Are you still involved in that skydiving stuff—a frivolous pursuit?”
“What’s a frivolous pursuit?” Hudson’s mother walked into the room.
“Susan, talk some sense into your son.” H.P. greeted his wife with a kiss on the cheek.
“My son? I thought he was your son, too.” Susan gave Hudson a hug.
“Well, right now I’m wondering about that.” H.P. looped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “He’s bucking the family tradition.”
“Do I need to act as referee between you two again?” Susan smiled up at her husband.
“No, just talk some sense into him.”
Susan looked over at Hudson. “Can you stay for lunch?”
Hudson wondered whether his mother could help his dad see the wisdom of granting Elizabeth her wish. Maybe his dad needed a woman’s point of view. “Yeah.”
“Excellent. We’re having some of Sarah’s chili. It’s simmering on the stove as we speak.” Susan slipped an arm through her husband’s and paraded him to the door.
Watching his parents, Hudson followed. They were a happy couple, with a very