Chapter 27
Some might have said Julien was overreacting or being too extreme in his views regarding relationships between employers/employees, but he’d had a front-row seat to how things could implode when boundaries were erased.
He wanted to do everything in his power to safeguard both himself and Martha from any sort of hurtful speculation or unfounded accusations.
He didn’t want rumors to start that she’d only had her manuscripts acquired because of a personal relationship with the owner’s son.
She had raw talent and had worked hard creating a vivid world and complex characters that kids were going to love.
He didn’t want any romantic connection with himself to taint her accomplishment.
Julien had spent the morning making sure she’d be protected.
Technically, their working relationship was over at the moment.
She’d fulfilled her duties as a freelance consultant, and he’d compensated her for her expertise.
A contract hadn’t been drawn up yet for Squire to acquire her manuscripts, but it was in the works.
After meeting with Caroline virtually and discussing Martha’s series leader, he was more confident than ever that he’d been right to trust his instincts.
Caroline agreed with him that her book had the “secret sauce,” as she called it.
Julien had appointed her the lead editor on the project and had told her to take it from there.
From that point on, he would be more of an observer than a hands-on participant. Another safeguard.
Concurrently, things with human resources were also in place.
They were confused as to why Julien was submitting a written statement disclosing a consensual relationship with someone not associated or working for King Publishing or any of its imprints or subsidiaries, but they accepted and filed the document anyway at Julien’s insistence.
With those protections in place, Julien could finally look forward to his date with Martha that evening.
His first thought had been to take her on a dinner cruise on the Southern Belle followed by a stroll across the Walnut Street Bridge.
The riverboat offered a unique view of Chattanooga’s cityscape, and he thought Martha would enjoy playing tourist in her own backyard.
But then he remembered Little Creek was a bit of a drive from the heart of downtown, and he didn’t want to keep her out too late.
Instead, he’d found a cute little Italian place in Little Creek that had laughed at him when he’d called to make a reservation, assuring him he’d have no problem getting a table even with their first-come-first-served policy.
After that, if she was up for it, he thought they could drive up the mountain and set up the telescope he had stored in the back of his closet.
The doors of the elevator opened, and Julien stepped out. Now that he had everything situated in regard to starting a relationship with Martha, he had some work in his office he needed to see to.
“Mr. King?” Tomiko barreled toward him, a woman on a mission.
He paused, brows raised. “Yes?”
She stopped abruptly in front of him and ran the tips of her fingers along the sleek hair of her high ponytail as if assuring there weren’t any strands out of order.
“Mr. King, Senior, has been asking for you, sir. He seemed very put out when he called and I had to inform him that you weren’t in your office. ”
“I’m sure he did.” Julien sighed.
“He requested your presence at your earliest convenience.”
“Requested, huh?”
Tomiko thinned her lips but didn’t say another word.
If he knew his dad, the request was a thinly veiled demand. And earliest convenience meant right that minute.
Julien let out another sigh. “Thank you, Tomiko.”
“Of course, sir.” With that, she turned on her heel and strode back to her own desk.
Julien did an about-face as well and retraced his steps to the elevator. He pushed the button for the next floor up and waited the short ascent before the doors opened again.
Mrs. Schneider gave him a you poor boy look over her bifocals when Julien stopped in front of his dad’s office door. Julien forced a carefree smile at the woman who had worked as his father’s secretary for the last twenty-five years, then rapped his knuckles twice against the office door.
“Come in,” John King barked.
Julien had barely crossed the threshold before he was being lit into.
“Where have you been all morning? I expected you to meet with me first thing to discuss your progress at making Squire profitable, not to mention give a report on how things went at the conference.”
Julien unbuttoned his suit jacket with one hand as he lowered himself onto the tufted leather sofa that was tucked in front of the large picture window overlooking Chattanooga’s skyline.
“The conference was a success. I found an author I want to sign and who I think is just the person we need to set Squire back on its feet.”
John King’s gaze bore into his son.
Julien expected to see some sort of reaction about his news. Relief, maybe. Pride, perhaps. Instead, all he was met with was unwavering skepticism. And perhaps a hint of an unnamed emotion hidden underneath.
After a long minute of scrutiny and weighted silence, his dad finally asked, “And just who is this miracle worker that you’ve unearthed?”
Julien ground his teeth, wishing things were easier with his father in recent history. Why couldn’t the man trust his judgment anymore? Believe in him fully? Why did everything, when it came to business, now have to be a struggle between them?
Julien straightened from his relaxed position, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The sleeve of his jacket rode up his arm, exposing the stack of leather bracelets on his wrist. Idly, he fiddled with one of the ends.
“Did you or did you not put me in charge of the imprint and task me with its rejuvenation?” he asked quietly, without looking up. He didn’t want to face that look on John King’s face again. The one that couldn’t seem to make up its mind on whether he wanted his son to succeed or not.
Wasn’t this what his dad had been grooming him for, training him for, all his life?
A bachelor’s degree in English from Vanderbilt and an MBA from Stanford Graduate School of Business, which he’d earned online while working and getting on-the-job experience at King Publishing.
All under his dad’s watchful eye. Julien was forty-six years old and had almost twenty-five years of experience under his belt.
When would his dad see that he was ready to step up and be the leader he’d cultivated?
“I did.” His dad steepled his fingers. “But I am still the head of this company. You still report to me, son.”
Julien closed his eyes, but he wouldn’t let the weight he felt cause his head to hang.
He was in a delicate position. He wanted to push back.
Demand that his father hold up his end of the bargain and let Julien have the room to do the work that needed to be done.
How could he show his dad once and for all that the King legacy would be safe in his hands if his dad continued to try to micromanage his every step?
But Julien had to be careful. His father was supposed to decrease his stress, not add to it.
And if Julien pressed, if he confronted the patriarch of not just the family but the company as well, insisted that he should be allowed to be in charge of not only Squire but the whole of King Publishing .
. . Well, the intrepid John King would not take such a thing lying down.
Julien had actually envisioned it more than once, standing his ground. Every time, his imagination ended the scenario with his dad clutching his chest and falling to the floor in a lifeless heap. And with his dizzy spell just last week . . .
Instead of saying anything, Julien pressed his lips closed and swallowed down his words.
“So, I’ll ask you again,” his dad enunciated slowly. “Who is this author with the Midas-touched pen? Whose basket are you willing to put all of Squire’s eggs in?”
Julien turned his head to look his dad in the eye. The moment he’d been dreading had come. “Martha Aldridge.”
His dad blinked at him, then let out a huff of disbelief, all the while shaking his head in disappointment. “And you wonder why I haven’t retired and left you the business,” he said more to himself, although Julien heard him loud and clear.
John King scrubbed a hand down his weathered face. He turned his gaze out the window, his thoughts gathering behind his eyes.
“She’s an amazing writer,” Julien defended. Although, just who was he defending? Martha and her talent? Him and his decision? All of the above?
His dad let out a second huff, and it took all of Julien’s self-control not to allow himself to be offended by the derisive noise.
“She’s an opportunist, is what she is.”
“I would think that would be a quality you could appreciate in a person,” Julien retorted, not being able to hold back the sneer in his tone.
“Watch yourself, son,” his dad warned sharply.
They stared off for a moment, neither saying anything.
Finally, his dad continued. “She tried to pitch a book to me in the past. Thought because her parents worked for us she was somehow entitled to the fast-track lane of getting published.”
There wasn’t an entitled bone in Martha’s body, but saying such wouldn’t change his father’s mind on the matter.
“I read a sample of her work, so I can say with utter confidence that you need to look elsewhere for your golden ticket. Martha Aldridge doesn’t have what it takes to be a success in this industry.”