Chapter 4 Pane
Pane
“I need you to strip, sir.”
I blink. “Sorry? What was that?”
My mother’s assistant takes hold of a slick black suitcase and rolls it toward me over the jet’s carpeted floor.
When he speaks next, his voice is slow, deliberate, as if he’s explaining to a child why it’s not okay to play with matches. “Mrs. Maddox has requested that you change out of your suit and put on the clothes that you will find in here.”
I frown so hard that my brows pinch together. “Why?”
He purses thin lips that match his even thinner face. “She didn’t say why, Mr. Maddox.”
“What’s this?” Stone says, entering the plane.
I point to the case. “Mom wants me to change clothes.”
My brother snorts. “She must’ve heard you smell like a pig.”
The assistant produces a matching case and wheels it toward my brother. “Sir, your mother has requested that you, too, change out of your clothes and into the ones provided in here.”
Stone scoffs. “This can’t be real.”
“Oh, it’s real,” I counter. “What was all that about her having to leave in ten minutes?”
The assistant shrugs. “I believe she’s extended her trip.”
Great. Mom’s decided to make us play dress-up instead.
The assistant gestures to the lavatory. “It’s free for you, Mr. Maddox.” To my brother, he points to the rear of the plane. “The other lavatory is also free. Mrs. Maddox will see you both in her office after you’ve changed.”
So I guess there’s no getting out of this, though I don’t mind changing out of my mud-smeared suit. Since I’m about to become the next president of the Maddox Group, it’s best not to accept the position looking like a farmhand.
I take the suitcase and enter the lavatory. Unzipping it reveals a few pairs of jeans, some casual shirts, underwear, socks, and a toiletry bag. Why are there so many articles of clothing if I’m only changing into one of each?
But I simply do as instructed, leaving my suit on the hangers provided.
When I exit, the assistant is waiting for me. “One last thing, sir. Your accessories.”
“Accessories?”
His gaze falls to my Rolex.
“You want my watch?”
He nods, and a bitter laugh escapes my throat. This is too much. What is Mom playing at? But whatever. I hand it over. I’m about to pass by when the assistant blocks my path.
“Your wallet and phone, too.”
“I’m not going to record anything. Why am I handing over my phone?”
“You will receive a new one, Mr. Maddox, as well as a new wallet.”
This whole thing is beginning to feel like some sort of setup. After a pause, I sigh. “Fine.”
I slip both from my pockets, and the assistant hands me a new phone. I open it and find that there are no contacts.
It’s a blank slate.
He then gives me a new wallet, which holds my picture ID and some cash. That’s it. No credit cards.
The assistant takes the suitcase, watch, wallet, and phone. My gaze tracks his every movement as he stows them in a box before locking it in the plane’s safe.
What is going on?
“Your mother will see you now,” he says with a hand flourish, gesturing to her office.
Finally.
As I enter, the smell of the cabin hits me—bergamot and cotton. It’s clean, comforting, warm. I should know. I created it, making it the signature scent for all the Maddox hotels.
My gaze follows my nose. Inside the cream-on-white office space, my mother sits like a queen behind her ivory desk—shoulders high, chin lifted.
Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and her white pantsuit is immaculate.
The only piece of color on her is a sapphire brooch pinned to her lapel.
Stone’s already seated across from her on the pale couch. He’s dressed similarly to me and looks uncomfortable, irritated, as his foot bounces atop his knee.
“Pane,” she says in greeting.
I lean over and kiss her cheek before taking a seat beside my brother.
“It’s good to see you,” she tells us in her cold, affectionless voice. “Thank you for coming all this way to meet me.”
“You’re welcome,” Stone replies with forced cheer, foot still bouncing.
He’s worried, same as me.
This feels like a trap, but I can’t predict what’s going to happen next.
“Before we begin, Pane, I heard there was a scuffle this morning.”
My gaze slides to Stone, who pretends to pick lint off his jeans.
“No scuffle,” I tell her.
Her left brow lifts in a calculated look. “You’re sure? We don’t need any more Georgia scandals.”
An old pain hits me in the solar plexus. My jaw flexes as I work out, “There won’t be any scandals.”
“Good.” She leans back in her ivory chair and taps her lacquered fingernails on the slick surface of her desk. “Nor do we need any fortune hunters. Your father was quite enough.”
Beside me, Stone tenses. He scrapes the backs of his fingers down his cheek. “Can we move on from Dad?”
Mom’s eyes flash on him. We never refer to our father as Dad. We don’t refer to him at all.
Instead of questioning Stone, she shoots me a pointed look as if I’m the one who made the mistake of marrying our father instead of her.
“No scandals. No fortune hunters,” I assure her.
“Glad to hear it. Now, on to business.” Dramatic pause.
When neither of us interrupt, she continues.
“As you know, I’m retiring. For these past few years, as vice presidents in the company, you’ve done amazing work.
Pane”—her laser focus lands on me—“with you guiding the East Coast, we’ve seen a renaissance.
During a tumultuous economic time, not only has our flagship hotel remained steadfast in terms of profits, but your idea to create a competitive rewards program, along with focusing on wellness vacations, has benefited our other locations.
In short, you’ve done an exemplary job and have exceeded my expectations. ”
A compliment from the ice queen? I’ll take it. “Thank you.”
“And Stone,” she says, and he puffs up his chest like the peacock he is. “Under your tutelage, the West Coast hotels have increased their market share by twenty percent.”
He flashes me a wink but says to her, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her cool gaze shifts from my brother to me. “But you both know that only one of you can be president.”
“And that’s me,” we say in unison.
Stone said it because that’s what he believes, and I said it because I knew that Stone would.
He smirks at me and I grin smugly in response.
Mom clears her throat. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I had you change clothes and hand over your phones.”
I scrape a thumb over my bottom lip. “It did occur to us.”
Mom leans forward and folds her hands. Her knuckles turn white as her grip tightens like she’s trying to contain her excitement. I’m glad someone’s excited.
“Starting now, you are no longer Pane and Stone Maddox, heirs to the Maddox Group of hotels,” she explains.
My brother and I exchange a confused look. For a long moment neither of us speak.
It’s Stone who hesitantly pokes the bull—I mean, my mother. “Then who are we?”
Mom leans back and grins widely. “You are Pane and Stone Maddox, big nobodies.”
What is she talking about? “What do you mean?”
She clicks a button on a remote, and a screen buzzes down from the ceiling. She opens her laptop, presses a few buttons, and a PowerPoint begins.
The first slide reads Win the Maddox Group.
Win the Maddox Group? “Are we supposed to play some sort of game?”
Stone’s foot pops off his knee and he sits up. “What is this?”
Mom points to the slide as if that will explain everything. “You see, boys, I thought I’d made a decision, but when I rechecked the numbers, both of you were too close in terms of profits for me to confidently pick the next president and CEO. So we’re doing it this way.”
My stomach drops. The rug has more than been pulled out from under me; it’s been tossed into the ocean, where it’s drowning in a whirlpool.
The company should be mine. Mine. I’ve worked hard, given up my life for the Maddox Group.
Stone’s worked hard, too, but he hasn’t sacrificed his personal life.
“What is ‘this way’?” I growl.
She clicks a button on her computer, and the next slide appears.
My mother explains what it says, so I don’t bother looking at it.
Besides, all I can see is red, as her frivolous decision to make us play some sort of game feels like a betrayal of how hard I’ve worked, a betrayal that sinks deep into my bones, crystallizing and petrifying.
“From tomorrow forward,” she explains with delight lacing her voice, “you each have sixty days to resurrect a dying business. This business must be on the verge of collapse, with no hope of recovering. In two months you must whip it into shape so that when the time frame is up, your venture has a higher valuation than your brother’s. ”
A headache blooms behind my eyes as I wrap my mind around what she’s saying. “You’re telling me that I have to find a business and make it more profitable than Stone’s, and I have sixty days to do it.”
“Yes.” She smiles like a satisfied cat. “Exactly.”
“And I’m also a big nobody.”
“That’s correct.” There is way too much glee in her voice. “The only things you now own are the clothes in each of your suitcases, the money in your new wallets, and a vehicle that has been picked out for you.”
Stone scrubs his fingers through his hair and laughs bitterly. Then he sits back and folds his arms. “So when you say that we’re nobodies, you really mean that.”
“Correct. You’re not allowed to use any of your resources—no business contacts, no bank accounts,” she clarifies in a voice that suggests she thinks this is fun. “You are completely cut off, and must win the company alone—without help from me or each other.”
Well, there went the millions in investments that I could have used.
“And if I find out that you do access your funds, you are automatically disqualified—unless you have my approval and the funds aren’t going toward the project,” she adds, eyes flashing from me to my brother.
“There goes cheating,” Stone half jokes.
“In the end, the venture with the highest valuation will also receive a one-time bonus from the Maddox Group. A gift, if you will, of one hundred thousand dollars.”
My brother turns his head right and left, popping his neck, a tic he only does when he’s angry. “Can anyone know who we are, or do we need to keep our identities a secret? Like, should I just introduce myself as Mr. Nobody?”
Her eyes narrow and he mumbles an apology. Stone’s as pissed as I am that we’ve been bamboozled. We were supposed to walk onto this plane and find out who was the next president and CEO. But instead we’ve been handed a nasty joke.
“Your identity is on a need-to-know basis. You may tell people who you are, but pick accordingly. Your celebrity status could get in the way, and if that happens, you will be—”
“Disqualified,” Stone mumbles. “Yeah, we get it.”
“What else?” I growl, tired of this nonsense. “Have you picked our businesses for us? Is that in the presentation, too?”
“No.” She rubs her hands with glee. “This is the best part.”
“Doubtful,” Stone mutters.
“You will pick Stone’s business, and he will pick yours.”
“What?” my brother says, jumping up from the couch. “He’s supposed to pick mine? Who knows what sort of sadistic business Pane will pick for me?”
“It’ll be just as sadistic as the one you choose for me,” I remind him.
“Oh, right. You’ve got a point.” He palms the back of his head. “Maybe this is actually the one good thing in this entire game.”
“It’s not a game,” our mother corrects. “This is a competition, one that will sow the seeds of your future. Pick wisely for one another.”
Great. Stone will pick the absolute worst business for me, as I will for him. This is survival of the fittest, brother against brother.
As I watch my mother swivel from side to side in her chair, it’s hard to remember that somewhere deep in her soul, I’m sure that she loves me. The only thing is, I’ve no clue where, or what, that love is.
“And”—she glances at her watch—“you’ve got one hour to find a project for each other. Starting . . . now.”
Stone snaps his fingers. “I don’t need an hour.”
She stops swiveling. “You don’t?”
His mouth splits into a wide grin, which he focuses on me. “Can someone say, ‘Little pig, little pig, let me in’?”
As soon as he mentions pigs, a dozen images of that woman, Sunbeam, brighten like a solar flare inside my head, taking up space rent-free. I’m subjected to her warm brown eyes, her friendly smile—when she smiled—and her wildflower scent.
I’m also subjected to a memory of her ridiculous use of platitudes.
My head snaps up. “No,” I snarl. “No. I’m not going there.”
Stone tsks. “You have to, brother. I get to choose, and that’s what I choose for you.”
Shit. This is going to be harder than I thought.
In front of us, Mom claps her hands. “Wonderful! May the best Maddox win!”