Leon rolled his eyes in mock disbelief. “Oh? Really? And how many times have you said that?” he countered, knowing his father had made the same declaration several times before, only to renege on his decision and keep on working.
“I mean it this time,” Leon Sr. said as he tapped his index finger on the stack of papers he’d signed and jerked his head toward his attorney. “Tell him, Gerald. It’s done.”
“That’s right,” the white-haired lawyer confirmed. “All the papers are in order. Your father has just made you the new owner of Archer Industries. It’s all yours now.”
Leon jerked forward, both hands steadied on his knees as he peered at his father in suspicion. “Is this for real?”
“Yes, for real. It’s time for you to run the show, son, and I am more than ready to hand the whole thing over to you.”
Leon sucked in a long breath and let the news settle in. He had known this day would come, but still, he was surprised. His father had made comments about retiring so many times that the running joke around the plant was that he’d leave when it snowed in Rockport, something that had happened, but nearly a century ago.
“Why now?” Leon wanted to know, wondering what had pushed his father to finally let go. He was an energetic man who walked four miles every day, ate only organic foods and never drank alcohol. And now that he’d given up cigars, his doctor had pronounced him healthier than ever.
“Because it’s time.”
“Are you telling me the truth?” Leon pressed. “You’re not sick or anything, are you?”
“I’m in perfect health,” his father replied with a snap. “In fact, that’s the reason I’m doing this now. Your mother and I are leaving for a tour of Africa tomorrow. We’re finally going on the trip we’ve put off for too many years. We decided last night that if we’re going to go, we’d better go while I can still climb a mountain and stay up late enough to enjoy a sunset,” Leon Sr. chuckled. “And we’re taking our time, son. Probably be gone at least a month.”
“A month, huh? Good for you!” But then Leon bit his bottom lip in concern. “Isn’t this happening kinda fast?” He had thought he was prepared to take over the business, but now that Archer Industries had actually been turned over to him, the prospect of running things without his father nearby caught Leon off guard.
“Yes. That’s right. No need to drag this out,” Leon Sr. concurred. “It’ll be an easy transition. I don’t want any fancy retirement party or sappy farewells. I’m writing a personal letter to each employee, thanking them for their hard work and telling them they’re in good hands. I know I can count on you to run the place the same way I have. So don’t fuck things up, you hear?”
Leon had to laugh at his father’s rare use of the F word.
“You practically grew up at the plant. You’ve been by my side since you were old enough to sit at my desk, so it won’t take long for everyone to get used to taking orders from you instead of me.”
“Orders?” Leon quipped. “I don’t plan to run the place like a military operation.”
His father laughed under his breath while brandishing his pen at his son. “Ha! That’s what it takes to do business nowadays, son. The key is to act tough, keep everything under your control so no one gets the idea that they can operate outside the rules. If you’re the man where the buck stops, then you’re the man with the power…and you’re gonna need power to succeed. You ready to be the boss?”
Leon hesitated, giving his mind a few seconds to wrap itself around the impact of his father’s decision. The family company was now his to manage, and the responsibility was great. Was he prepared for the challenge and ready to step up to the plate?
“You bet I am,” Leon confirmed with confidence, ready to make the difficult decisions that came with being in charge.
“I know you are, even though the old-timers will probably call you ‘Junior,’” Leon’s mother tossed out as she entered the room.
“Sara, that’ll change now that he’s the number one man,” Mr. Archer told his wife, sending a scowl her way.
“I’ll make sure of that,” Leon agreed, warming to the idea that, at last, he’d be out from behind his father’s shadow. Recently, he’d begun to feel confined, as if he were boxed into a place without an exit. Had his father sensed his restlessness? Was that what spurred his decision to retire? If so, the timing couldn’t have been better.
Sara Archer, who stood a head shorter than her son, went over to him, patted him lightly on the cheek and reminded him in a sassy tone, “Well, you’ll always be Junior to me.”
Leon grimaced, and then broke into a smile, both annoyed and flattered by his mother’s display of affection. As her only child, he had learned long ago that it did no good to protest her overprotective ways. As long as he lived, he would be her little boy and there was nothing he could do to change that.
“And I don’t want you to worry about checking on the house while we’re gone,” Sara continued. “I gave Nona my keys so she can come in and water my plants and check on the aquarium. You’ll have more important things on your mind than tending my African violets and feeding the fish.”
“If that’s what you and Nona arranged, it’s fine with me,” Leon conceded, aware of how much his mother liked and trusted Nona James, who was not only Archer Industries’ operations manager, but also a longtime family friend.
“I think that’s it,” Gerald Ayers stated as he snapped his briefcase closed and handed a packet of legal documents to the elder Archer, who put them into his safe.
Gerald leaned over to shake Leon’s hand. “Congratulations, Junior,” the lawyer said, beaming his approval.
Leon pumped the attorney’s hand, “Thanks, Gerald.”
“No problem. You’re going to do fine.” Turning to Leon Sr., the lawyer said, “If that’s all you need from me, I’ll be going. I’ve got to leave for the airport in an hour.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re leaving the country, too,” Leon remarked, concerned.
“No, not at all. Going to visit my daughter in Baton Rouge. I’m only a phone call away if you need me, Leon. Call anytime, and I’ll be here…. Just as I’ve been for your father over the years.”
“Whew! That’s a relief,” Leon said, knowing how much he was going to need the seasoned attorney’s advice.
After Gerald left, Leon and his father reviewed the transition process, and then conducted an in-depth examination of the current production schedule.
“Next up is a women’s swimsuit line for Leeman’s,” Leon Sr. informed his son.
“A swimsuit line, huh? That ought to be a pretty simple run. Steve Hadley’s company out of New York, right?” Leon said, remembering the previous orders Hadley had placed with Archer Industries.
“Right. But this one might be a bit tricky. The designer wants to use a fabric that’s gonna take some serious negotiating to get down to the price Hadley wants to pay. Some kind of a specialty blend they sourced out of China.”
“Could be pricey,” Leon said.
“Exactly what I thought, so I put our man in New Delhi on it. Hopefully, he’ll find a better price in India,” his father offered.
“Sounds good. Where do we stand on the Leeman’s contract?” Leon asked.
“All done. I finalized everything with Steve Hadley. Here’s the name of the rep from his store who is due here this afternoon to consult on the project,”