Kianna Alexander - This Tender Melody

Darius was becoming more and more impatient to find out what exactly Franklin wanted. He leaned forward in his seat. “What are you really asking me for, Mr. Franklin?”

“Why so formal? Call me Joe.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

His eyebrow hitched up. “Ok, Joe, what are we really talking about here?”

Joseph leaned forward, braced his arms on the surface of the big desk. “Darius, I’d like you to take over as CEO.”

Darius blinked, then focused on Franklin’s face again. Had he heard what he thought he heard? “Excuse me?”

“This isn’t easy for me to ask of you, Darius.”

He raised his hand, scratched his chin. His first instinct was to say no. All he wanted to do was extract his butt from the seductive chair, leave the building and get back in his car so he could go home and practice for his band’s next gig. His time was his own now, and that was just the way he liked it. No clock to punch, no boss to answer to and the freedom to pursue his own interests, any way he saw fit. He was living the life most people dreamed of, and at a very young age. He’d received plenty of offers and requests to come back to the tech business since he’d gone into retirement, but this time was different. If it hadn’t been for Franklin, he might never have had the means to take his retirement when he did. How could he flatly turn down the man who’d given him his first shot in this game? The answer was simple: he couldn’t.

Still, there was another contingency here, one that needed to be discussed. “What about your daughter? I assumed she’d be the one to take over things here when you retired.”

Franklin rose from his chair, easing toward the windows. His eyes seemed focused on the goings-on outside as he spoke. “So did I. But she isn’t ready quite yet.” His flat tone conveyed a measure of disappointment.

Having never met Franklin’s daughter, he didn’t know what her skill set was. During the time he’d been at FTI, she’d been in college and studying abroad. She might be less than prepared in Franklin’s eyes, but he found the old man’s assessment a little blunt. “Come on now, Joe. Any daughter of yours has got to be bright enough to learn the ropes, with time and training.”

He shook his head, still gazing out the window. “True, but time is a luxury I don’t have anymore. I waited too long to train her the way I should have—I thought she would’ve caught on a bit faster on her own. Now...” He stroked a hand over his head, but didn’t complete the statement.

A few moments passed in silence before Darius spoke. “Is there something else I need to know?”

“My health isn’t at its best, Darius. I’m going in for some tests this week, because if I don’t, my wife won’t give me a moment’s peace. I really don’t know what the doctor is going to tell me, but I know I’m not getting any younger.”

“And there’s no one you could promote from within the company ranks?”

Franklin shook his head. “I believe what FTI really needs is a cutting-edge, youthful approach. Besides, you’ve got the brightest technological mind to ever grace the halls of this building.”

“I appreciate that.” He could see where this was headed. Clasping his hands together, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. There was nothing interfering with his ability to do what Franklin was asking of him, though taking the job might interfere with his involvement with the Gents. Undeniably, he owed this man a debt of thanks for the role he’d played in starting his career. “If you really feel you need me, I’ll do it. But how does your daughter feel about all of this?” He searched his memory banks, but couldn’t recall her name.

For several seconds, the only sounds Darius heard were the ringing phones and low conversation beyond the doors of the private office. He folded his arms and waited, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. “Joe?”

“I’m not entirely sure. We haven’t discussed it with her yet. Either way, she’s not ready and you’re the one I want.”

Darius rolled his eyes, letting loose an exasperated sigh. “Joe, we both know that if she doesn’t agree with our little arrangement, she’s likely going to make my job very difficult.”

The old man returned to his desk, leaned over it and made eye contact with him. “Look, I may be uncertain of Eve’s leadership ability, but I don’t doubt her professionalism. So give her a chance before you make assumptions about her, all right?”

So that was her name. Picking up on the defensive edge in Franklin’s tone, he shrugged. “Fair enough.” His mentor seemed pretty torn about this whole thing—going from saying his daughter wasn’t ready to assume command, to praising her professionalism in a matter of minutes. He glanced at his watch. “So, what’s the salary? And is this a temporary position?”

“I’m not sure of the duration—that depends on Eve, and how soon she can be groomed. You’ll get a competitive salary, full benefits and vacation time, of course.”

It was a reasonable compensation offer, perhaps even a bit more than he warranted. “Sounds good.” He reached across the table to shake hands with his mentor. “I’ll do the best job I can, Joe.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Franklin stood, gesturing toward the door. “I won’t hold you up all day, but we do have a board meeting tomorrow at ten. I’d like you to be there, so I can introduce you to everyone.”

“I’ll be here.”

Pondering the many possibilities of this new venture, Darius bid his mentor goodbye and slipped out of the large office, shutting the door behind him.

Chapter 3

Eve joined her parents in the sunroom, carrying the tray of Italian fare she’d ordered for dinner. Her mother had thrown open a few of the windows, letting the late-summer breeze blow through the room. Setting the tray down on the mosaic dining table, she began taking the lids off the containers. “I got some primavera for you, Daddy, chicken Parmesan for you, Mama, and a little baked ziti for me.”

While she considered herself a woman of many talents, cooking wasn’t one of them. Her parents were well aware of her lack of culinary skills, so they weren’t surprised when she’d brought over the food prepared by her favorite private chef, Alfonzo. Some of the wealthiest families in the area could be counted among his clients.

She sat down and reached for the pitcher of iced tea on the table—the one thing she had made herself—and filled her glass. She was about to take a sip when she stopped, holding the glass in midtip. Her mother and father were staring at her, both with odd looks on their faces. “What’s the problem? Why are you guys staring at me like that?”

No answer. Instead, her parents’ gazes shifted, until they were looking at each other.

“Mama?”

Louise sighed.

Her brow furrowing, she turned to her father. “Daddy? What in the world is going on?”

Joseph picked up his glass, took a long draw of tea. “Well, baby, we have some news.”

“Okay. What is it?” She rested her palms on the table, and waited.

“First, you’ll be glad to know I made a doctor’s appointment. I’m going in on Friday for a whole slew of tests.”

She nodded, offering a smile. “That is good news. But I feel like there’s something else.”

Louise spoke up. “There is. Your father is retiring, finally.”

Eve reached across the table to grasp his hand. When she did, she found it to be a bit cool and clammy. “I’m proud of you for putting your health first, Daddy. And I want you to know I’m going to make you proud. I’ll lead FTI as honorably as you have.”

He cleared his throat, his gaze drifting away from hers.

Something wasn’t right.