Chapter 5 #2
When Nic’s sight returned, it was to a smartly dressed young man—smug business-school attitude written all over him—striding across the lobby toward him, ignoring the other two gentlemen in the next set of chairs over.
“Mr. Price,” he said, hand outstretched.
“Harris Kincaid. I work for your father. He’s not in at the moment. ”
Nic knew that. He’d waited in the coffee shop across the street until he’d seen his old man leave, then waited another thirty to make sure he hadn’t come back before entering. “I actually came here to speak to you,” he told Harris as he stood.
The kid, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, fresh out of business school if Nic had to guess, buttoned his jacket and stood taller, which still left him a half foot shorter than Nic. Looking up, he jutted out his chin, defiant. “About?”
“Let’s go up to the office,” Nic said, arm out toward the stairs. The cocky little shit looked like he was going to argue until Nic reminded him who his boss was. “I don’t think my father would appreciate his business discussed in public, do you?”
Harris paled, confirming to Nic that his father remained an uneasy man to work for. And he wasn’t Harris’s only boss.
“Of course,” Harris conceded.
Upstairs, it was as Nic suspected. Only one corner of the second floor remained occupied by PH—two offices, a conference room, and a reception area, the desk unstaffed.
By the layer of dust gathering there, it hadn’t been for a while.
Harris led him through the small lobby, past his father’s office—the solid wood door with the brass nameplate closed—and into the other, smaller office, which was meticulously neat.
Nic claimed a visitor chair as Harris circled to the other side, unbuttoning his coat as he sat. “What can I do for you, Mr. Price?”
“You knew who I was in the lobby.” Unless Harris hung out at the courthouse, there was no reason he should have. They’d never met, and Nic hadn’t set foot in this building since he was eighteen.
“The receptionist called up.”
“You ignored the other two men in the lobby and headed straight for me.”
Harris lowered his chin, hiding a small smile.
“He talks about how smart you are.” Before Nic could get over that shock, Harris delivered another.
“And I knew it was you from the picture in your dad’s office.
” Which must have been recent for Harris to recognize him because other than his blue eyes, Nic did not take after his blond-headed father at all.
And certainly no longer looked like the gangly eighteen-year-old in his graduation photo.
Harris righted his face, some of the earlier smugness gone, asking again, “What can I do for you, Mr. Price?”
“I’d like an update on PH. You signed the last corporate filing as the asset manager.”
“I’m sorry but I’m not authorized to provide you that information.”
Nic relaxed back in his chair, resting an ankle on his opposite knee.
He was going to enjoy this, especially after a day spent preparing court documents for tomorrow’s arraignment.
This would be a good warm-up, not that he expected to question witnesses tomorrow, but he never walked into a courtroom unprepared.
“The company is still a limited liability company, is it not?” Nic asked.
“As are many real estate holding companies.”
“And the sole member of the holding company is the family trust, correct?”
Harris inclined his head. “You’ve done your research.”
“I am an attorney, who checks corporate filings on the Secretary of State’s site regularly.
” Nic dropped his leg over his other knee.
“And last I’d heard, I’m also the secondary beneficiary of the family trust, after my father.
So you see, I have a vested interest in this company, and I want to know its status. ”
“I thought you weren’t interested in your father’s money.”
“Your boss tell you that?”
Harris rested his forearms on his too-clean desk. “Your father hasn’t—”
“Your other boss, Mr. Kincaid.”
The kid’s gulp was audible in the otherwise silent office. He laced his fingers together, which only made his whole fist shake.
“You’re married to Duncan Vaughn’s niece, aren’t you?
” Nic didn’t give him a chance to answer, going right for the hammer instead.
“While I was checking the property records on this building, I also checked the records on your million-and-a-half-dollar Silicon Valley hovel. Not one but two loans from an entity that traces back to Vaughn Investments.” He hadn’t actually had time to dig through the corporate filings and peel back the layers of ownership.
He was hoping Harris would confirm his suspicions for him.
Which he did. Giving up the ghost, Harris curled in his shoulders and slumped forward, deflating. “I don’t know anything, okay? The day Duncan forced me on your father, Curtis boxed up all the financial documents, took them home, and put a lock on his office door.”
“So what are you still doing here?”
He waved a hand at his inbox on the corner of the desk.
“Answering calls, going through the mail, signing whatever corporate documents Curtis’s attorney puts in front of me.
Collecting a paycheck on the off chance your father decides to pay me, and when he does, it just goes to pay Duncan.
” Harris ran a shaky hand through his dark hair.
“I did not kill myself in business school to be an executive assistant for a shell of a company.”
“Duncan’s forcing you to stay here?”
“I know what he is.” Harris dropped his arm, the thump of it on the desk a resigned exclamation mark. “You saw the deeds of trust. We got upside down on that house, and Duncan had to bail us out, just like your father. Now we can’t get out from under him.”
Excitement trilled up Nic’s spine. Finally, a break. He leaned forward, offering the life preserver Harris so obviously needed. “What if I could help you?”