19. The Plot
19 THE PLOT
Cal
“Sir, there is a call for you,” Susan, my assistant, said over the intercom. “Daphne Delphine.”
Confused, I said, “For me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Put her through. Hold my four.”
“Yes, sir. Here she is.”
“Daphne,” I said. “What do you need?”
She was tentative. “I need to talk to you about the will.”
“Is this about the pocket watch? If it means that much to Davey?—”
“No,” Daphne said. “Davey doesn’t want you to have the watch, but I don’t care about that. I know about the shares. How did you intend to manage them? I figure you will start up an LLC and grant them to some sort of manager, but I have something I’d like to propose.”
I didn’t realize she knew, but was aware I shouldn’t have this conversation over the phone.
“Daphne, can we talk about this at another time?”
“Cal, after what you said at the gala?—”
She thought I fobbed her off.
I emphasized, “Off the record.”
“Oh… shit. Yeah. Sorry, I got ahead of myself.”
I chuckled. “It’s okay, but you’re not just dialing my cell. I’m free this evening if you wanted to meet up.”
“I don’t want to do this here,” Daphne said. “I’ve been combing through papers, and I have questions I think you can answer. I’m just a little worried about doing it at my place.”
“You could come to mine.” I hoped she didn’t read that as too presumptive.
“Ah… the press could find out. I don’t need this to come up. I don’t want to cause you trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Daphne.” I lied, curling the phone cord around my fingers.
“Well, I don’t want to be the one who gets you embroiled in a scandal neither of us can afford right now.”
“Could I just stop in?” I asked.
“I don’t want to involve Mum. I’m not sure this is worth driving to Michigan for, but we could meet there. I promise you… it’s strategy. You don’t have to stay but maybe that works?” Before I could even answer, she said. “That’s stupid. Don’t even?—”
I cut her off. “I have no plans this weekend. I’m skipping a tennis competition. Mom wanted us all to enter. If I’m not around, she cannot guilt me.”
“It would definitely be easier to duck the press,” Daphne agreed.
“Even my Chief of Staff won’t complain,” I said. “It would be good to speak without any interlopers, Daph. I think I have something important to say and need space to say it.”
“You’re welcome to stay,” Daphne said. “Again, no ulterior motives. But if you’re travelling all that way?—”
“I’ll think about it,” I was unsure about throwing myself into a boiling pot with a newly available Daphne Delphine.
* * *
Daphne
“I’d like to speak with you without any interlopers, Daph.”
Cal’s words hung in my head. I’d invited him to our lake house—against my better judgment.
It was nine before Cal’s car pulled into the circle drive outside the family farm’s main house. The Delphines owned this place for years—having bought it as a wedding present for my great-grandfather. It contained miles of fruit trees, bushes, and a vineyard unmatched in Western Michigan. In short, it was a piece of heaven. Cal knew it well, as my father hosted leadership meetings here several times a year.
I held the door for Cal, an overnight bag over his shoulder. Two men met my gaze, leaning against a black SUV that followed his sportscar up the drive.
Cal chuckled. “They don’t bite, and they don’t talk.”
“Are they going to need a room?” I stared at his security entourage.
“Nah,” Cal said. “It’s taken care of. Look, I could sleep in the pool house if that’s better. But driving back?—”
“I made up a guest room for you. It’s silly for you to drive back.”
I stood awkwardly in the foyer, words failed me. I sensed Cal loathed me for choosing Chandler. It colored every meeting thereafter. He nervously ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He waited for me to speak, while standing with his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Have you eaten?”
“I am famished,” Cal said. “But I don’t want to impose.”
“It’s okay. I made a chicken bake for dinner. If you don’t mind leftovers?—”
“That’s great. Thanks,” Cal said. “Should I run this upstairs?—”
“I’ll put the food in the oven,” I said. “And you can run your bag to whichever room you want.”
“Thanks.”
Cal disappeared while I put the casserole dish in the oven and poured wine. I needed something to give me the courage.
“You don’t owe me any wine, Daph,” Cal said.
I snickered. “But I feel whatever we discuss is better with wine.”
“For you for or for me?”
“Both? But have mercy on me.” I sipped and relaxed on the bench to his right.
“I promise you this… it’s not going to be painful. I really don’t mind seeing you.”
My hands sweated as I worried he had gotten the wrong idea.
“Oh! No, no, no!” Cal shook his head. “I’m not here to… you know.”
“What?”
“To… seduce you or whatever. This is not a repeat of Hawaii. This isn’t just business, but that’s not my intent, Daphne. I care. Just go. Tell me all your plans.”
I took a deep breath. “So, I know you have ten percent of the company. Together, we own thirty.”
“Fine. What is it you need then?”
“Well, can you tell me what you plan to do with your shares? Because I?—”
“Daphne, you’re killing me,” he groaned.
“No, just listen. I have an idea!”
He grabbed my hand. “Before I say what I am going to, just know that I’m so happy to see the way your eyes light up like this. It’s a relief. But given my conflict of interest as mayor, I should say nothing about what I truly feel about the company.”
“Say nothing, then. Just listen.”
He sighed long and nodded.
“Davey is trying to shelve me in this shitty role. With your shares, I’d stand a better chance to force his hand and make him fire our disastrous president.”
“Given the shape the company is in, you’ll need more than that, Daphne,” Cal said.
“It could work if you put your shares into a management agreement. You could elect someone?—”
“I already have an idea about that, but I’m not going to say more. However, I will caution you.”
“Why?”
“You’re suggesting a coup, Daphne. Even with my shares, it’s not enough. You must either ask your family to chime in or get the other non-family members of the board to side with you.”
“It’s not a coup!” I laughed defensively.
“Uh, it is. You’re asking your siblings to choose. And, Daphne, he’s the CEO. He has been running it.”
“Dad wanted me. You said?—”
“Daphne, he may have, but you’ve been gone. You need a solid plan.”
“I know that. I also know that you are better aware of the board members than I am. I need to impress them and make them trust me.”
“So, you want me to do your dirty work?” He rubbed his temples. “Oh, Daphne, you’re killing me!”
The buzzer beeped, signaling the preheated oven. I put the casserole in, shaking my head. I did the math. It was a coup, but could I win? I could—only with his help.
As I closed the oven door, Cal said, “I have some ideas. I shouldn’t meddle, but you have my ear.”
I turned, beaming. “Good. Because I’d like to tell you about my plans to save the company.”