Elizabeth Harbison - Beyond Business

“Not really,” Helen said. “In fact, the bottom line these past few years has been decidedly bleak.”

Evan frowned. “How bleak?”

“Bleak enough that the porn scandal on the Web site was enough to push us firmly into the red.”

Jack had e-mailed him—when was it? A month ago? Two?—indicating that the family should get more involved in the business, but Evan had assumed it was just a ploy to get him back into the fold. He’d never imagined that his father had actually dropped the ball and sent the business hurtling toward bankruptcy.

Still, what could Evan do? The only job he’d ever had was running a little beachfront bar in Majorca. And even that could hardly be considered work.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, honestly.” Evan shrugged. “But if you’re looking to bring the business back to life, you’re looking at the wrong guy. I’m not much of a corporate type. It’s not just that I don’t want to help, it’s that I honestly don’t have anything to offer.”

“Maybe not, but you’re a risk taker, from what your father told me. And I can tell you’re an honest man. He told me that, too. Hanson Media needs that right now.”

That stopped Evan. “My father told you that?” He gave a wry smile. “You do know my father was George Hanson, right?”

“He was more fond of you than you know,” Helen said, and she sounded as though she really believed it. “He talked about you quite a lot. Said you’d left when you were young and that you’d been living overseas all this time.”

“He told you that.”

She nodded. “You know, he thought you’d be back. For years he thought you’d come crawling back asking for money, and when you didn’t he was secretly impressed.”

Evan was embarrassed at the small lump that formed in his throat. He wanted to believe this, even while he still loathed the man and what he’d done to Evan. He wanted, if only for his own peace of mind, to believe that his father hadn’t been so detached that he’d just completely forgotten him. “Not so impressed that he ever tried to contact me.”

“No.” A distant look came into her eyes, and she shook her head. “But you know as well as I do that the fact that he didn’t contact you had nothing to do with the amount of pride or lack of pride he felt in you. It was all about his own pride. Everything was about his pride,” she added softly.

Evan looked at his father’s wife with new eyes. Most women in her position would have been content to let the whole family dissolve so they could regain the money and power for themselves, but Helen was actually reaching out to them.

Now he was left with a choice. He’d already stood here for five minutes talking to her. Five minutes were chipped away from his intended release from the Hanson family. Now he was actually considering Helen’s plea for him to stay, and he wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

“Look, Helen, what’s the upshot here? Give me the bottom line. What exactly are you asking me to do?”

She took a short, bracing breath. “Okay, direct and to the point. I can do that.” She met his eyes. “The company is down but it’s not out yet. For many reasons I want to fix that. My reasons don’t matter that much to you, because you must surely have your own reasons for wanting to stay. It’s your legacy. If you have children someday, it’s their legacy. The time to fix it is now, and I’ve got a plan. If it doesn’t work—” she shrugged “—at least you can’t say you didn’t try.”

“And what do you propose a guy like me, a guy with no business experience whatsoever, should do within this corporation in order to up the revenues?”

“That’s easy,” Helen replied quickly. “You’re smart. A guy with a social conscience and definitely a world view. And, not least, you are a Hanson.”

He listened, unable to agree with her for fear of what he’d find himself committing to.

“So what I propose is that you take over the radio division of Hanson Media Group.”

He gave a shout of laughter before he realized she was serious.

“The radio division,” he repeated, visions of Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern dancing in his head. “Me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded, her green gaze steady on him. “I think you’d be perfect.”

“You do know I have no experience in that area whatsoever.” He gave another laugh. He couldn’t help it. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Given the recent scandal, I think your lack of experience might, in fact, be a plus.” She smiled, but there was pleading in her eyes. “I’m only asking you to stay on for three months or so. Just to give it a try. What do you say, Evan? Will you do it? Please.”

He thought about it. Majorca would still be there in three months. So would St. Bart’s, Fiji or anywhere else he wanted to go. When he’d sold the beachfront bar, he’d made quite a tidy profit. His father would have been surprised to learn that his “beach bum” son was smart enough to invest his earnings.

In any event, he could afford—at least in the monetary sense—to stick around for a little while and see what happened.

The question was, could he afford the mental toll it would undoubtedly take on him to stay?

Suddenly the words of his uncle, David Hanson, came back to him. David had been trying to convince Evan to come back and mend fences with his father several months ago, before it was too late.

Think about it, Evan , David had said. You don’t need to do this for George. You need to do it for yourself.

Those were the words that had brought Evan back, even though he’d arrived too late. They were the words that had rung in his mind when he’d contemplated seeing his siblings again. Who knew where life would take them eventually? Right now they were all here, working together toward a common goal, and he had the opportunity to help with that.

Granted, failure was possible. All he could do was his own personal best. If someone couldn’t accept him or forgive him, he didn’t have to carry it.

“Okay,” he heard himself saying to Helen, despite the fact that it went against every instinct he felt in his gut. Instinct that told him to run like hell and never look back. “I’ll do it.”

“What I’m looking for is someone to work in advertising and public relations under my brother-in-law,” Helen Hanson was saying to the young brunette woman before her.

Meredith Waters sat uncomfortably in the plush chair opposite Helen’s sleek, modern desk, wondering if it was appropriate or wildly in appropriate to mention her history with the Hanson family before this job interview with Hanson Media went any further.

She never thought she’d set foot in the company George Hanson had built. Not after what he’d done to her family.

“I think you’ll agree, the benefits are generous,” Helen went on, handing a folder across the desk to Meredith. Her hand was delicate and smooth, her manicure perfect. Helen Hanson was perfectly turned out.

Meredith glanced at the folder, so it at least looked as if she was interested. Medical, dental, two weeks’ vacation time, two weeks’ personal time … yes, the terms were extremely generous. A person would have to be a fool to turn this down.

Of course, Meredith would have taken the job no matter what, even if it had paid minimum wage and offered the single benefit of a half hour’s lunch once a week. Pretending to hesitate was just that—pretending.

It was all a game.

She just hoped she could play it without anyone finding out.

“I’d like to think about it,” Meredith lied. She didn’t need to think about it. She was ready to start now. “Could I take a day or two and get back to you?”