Chapter 2
ALEX
NEW YORK CITY
“Don’t let them do anything without my say-so.
Got it? And make sure Curt knows we’ll only go up to three million.
Not a dollar more. Oh… and get on the phone to Michigan.
I want the profit forecast for the Turnham Group.
If those hotels aren’t going to turn a profit in two years, I want to get rid of them,” Alex Lancaster said as he strode through the twentieth floor of the Macarson building, home to the offices of Lancaster Holdings PLC, and the place where Alex spent most of his time.
Behind him, his harassed-looking EA, Hilary, followed, trying to keep up with his instructions, while simultaneously balancing a holder of take-out coffees and a box of donuts in one hand.
“I’ll get onto it straight away, Mr. Lancaster. Don’t forget your flight at twelve,” she said.
Alex glanced at the clock. It was five minutes past nine. He had plenty of time. The plane was hardly going to leave without him. He owned it.
“Have a car ready for me. This meeting shouldn’t take more than an hour. But I have to settle the deal before I leave. Japan needs an answer. What time is it there?” he asked, turning to Hilary, who looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
“Oh… it’s… ten o’clock, at night,” she replied, looking relieved.
“I’d better not keep them waiting then,” Alex said as he hurried into the boardroom.
Several of the other directors were there, and they rose respectfully as Alex took his place at the head of the table, a bank of screens showing the company executives in other parts of the world, gathered for the meeting.
Hilary, who, among her many talents, spoke Japanese, sat down next to him to translate, pushing a piece of paper toward him, before surreptitiously hiding the box of donuts from view of the screens.
“That’s the upper deal,” she whispered, pointing to a figure at the top of the page.
Alex nodded, signaling for the meeting to begin.
Microphones were unmuted, and greetings exchanged.
The purpose of the meeting was to secure a deal on a new hotel chain in the Pacific, with sites along the Japanese coast and various outlying islands.
It was worth millions, and Alex wanted to impress on his executive counterparts the value to the company.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Greetings to you. I can’t stress the importance of this deal for Lancaster Holdings. Our shareholders are counting on us to deliver a large profit,” Alex began, before outlining the terms of the deal and explaining how he intended to proceed.
The clock was ticking, and he was beginning to regret arranging a meeting so close to his departure time. He could’ve done without the wedding, a week back in Cedarhurst. What was he thinking?
“Thirty million dollars. That’s the cost of the upgrades to the resort,” one of the executives was saying.
“We can authorize that. Let’s get a deal on securing the asset first, then think about the upgrade,” Alex replied.
The clock had ticked past ten. Hilary pointed to the schedule. Private jet or not, there was still a flight plan in place. Alex had to be at the airport at eleven thirty at the latest. He hadn’t even touched his coffee.
“So we’re agreed on the sixty-million-dollar acquisition? A one-hundred-million-dollar budget for that and the upgrade, leaving the extra ten percent for unexpected costs and initial staffing outlay?” one of the executives said.
Alex needed longer to think about it, but there wasn’t time, and he nodded, signing off the deal and instructing the broker to go ahead with the purchase.
In the world of high finance, a few extra noughts were nothing.
It was child’s play — ten million here, twenty million there.
As the screens flickered off, Alex nodded to the others in the boardroom.
“That’s that, then. I’ll leave things in your capable hands,” he said, causing Hilary to clear her throat as she disguised an obvious smile.
Hers were the capable hands. Without Hilary, Lancaster Holdings would be nothing.
“You need to go,” she whispered, tapping the itinerary.
The coffee was now cold, but the donuts were still glistening in the box, and Alex took two, hurrying back through the building and into the elevator. A car was waiting outside, along with a hastily ordered lunch — again, thanks to Hilary.
“If you need anything at all, just call me. I’ll be at my mom’s,” Alex said as he climbed into the leather-lined interior of the car.
“It’ll be fine. Just enjoy yourself. It’s nice to think you’ll get to spend some time at home,” Hilary replied.
Alex smiled.
“Ask me if it was when I get back. It has been years since I’ve been to Cedarhurst. Mom always comes to the resorts. There’s something about going home… I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not,” he said.
But whether it was, or wasn’t, was academic. Alex was going home, and his flight was waiting. As the car purred through the New York traffic, he wondered if he’d been too hasty in signing off on the deal. It could cost them millions…
But what can I do about it now?
The answer was nothing, and he tried to avoid the temptation of looking at his phone.
They arrived at the airport with just minutes to spare, with no time for a glass of champagne in the VIP lounge, and Alex was hastily escorted through security and onto the tarmac, where his jet was waiting to take him to Illinois.
On board, he sat back with a sigh, reminding himself of all the things he was putting on hold in order to attend the wedding.
He hadn’t even seen Sean and Rachel for years, and the invitation had come as something of a surprise.
“You’ve got to come home for it,” his mom had said. “The four of you were thick as thieves in high school. All those hours of study you put in for the mathletes tournaments.”
Her mention of “four” had brought with it other memories, too, memories of Kaitlyn, and those last few months they’d spent together before college.
It was strange to think about it now, to remember what might’ve been.
Sean and Rachel had always been destined for marriage.
Alex was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.
Rachel was pregnant, apparently. It seemed difficult to believe.
The last time he’d seen them, they’d been so young; he’d been so young.
As the plane took off, Alex sighed, watching as the New York skyline merged into one below.
It would be strange to be back in Cedarhurst, surrounded by the familiar that was no longer familiar.
He wondered what Kaitlyn would say when she saw him.
Don’t flatter yourself. She probably hasn’t given you a second thought.
But Alex had thought about her. He felt guilty at having so readily neglected her. She’d tried to keep in touch with him at Harvard, but the pressures of work, and the distance…
The excuses, more like.
He’d enjoyed receiving her letters — the postcards she’d drawn, and the photos she’d send of the things she’d made.
Kaitlyn was always so creative. He’d looked her up recently and found her studio in San Francisco, where she sold the most beautiful ceramics.
He’d bought some. He got someone else to do it for him, though, because it had seemed embarrassing to tell the truth after all these years.
Alex hadn’t wanted to lose touch with Kaitlyn.
It had just happened. It was his fault, of course. The business always came first.
“All you think about is making money.” That’s what Mia had said the day she left him.
Alex had retorted that all she ever thought about was shopping. It hadn’t gone down well. They’d only been together for a month. She’d been happy enough spending his money…
Kaitlyn wouldn’t have been like that.
His musings on the past carried him all the way to Illinois, and he was only brought back to the present by the seat-belt sign coming on and the offer of a final glass of champagne by the steward.
“No, thank you. I’d better keep a clear head,” he replied.
A car was waiting on the tarmac. It would take an hour or so to reach Cedarhurst. Alex didn’t know why he was feeling nervous.
He was the CEO of one of the largest companies in America, a billionaire who’d recently hosted the president at a gala dinner supporting America’s business interests abroad.
He was known and respected across the business world, and yet he still suffered from crippling impostor syndrome.
He’d grown up with nothing, and his mom had worked three jobs to put him through college.
In the back of his mind, Alex was always fearful of it all being taken away.
It’s just a wedding. Just a week.
But it wasn’t just a wedding. It was a reminder of a choice.
Had he not been so fixated on succeeding, perhaps his own life might’ve been different.
The once familiar sights of small-town America were now coming into view: Alf’s Diner, with its Formica-covered tables set out on the sidewalk, Randolph’s hardware store on the corner of Billingdon and Applegarth.
They passed the high school, just as the kids were streaming out of class, with the yellow buses waiting to take them home.
Alex had the driver pause at the drive-thru for a cola and hamburger with fries, and he was tempted to have him pull into the outdoor movie lot, where they were still showing films to rows of parked-up cars filled with teenage daters.
It was all so familiar, and all such a contrast to the bright lights and glamor of New York.
“Stop here for a moment, will you?” Alex called out as they passed a small house set back from the road, with a neat garden stretching out from the porch, and a large Stars and Stripes hanging from a pole angled out above the door.
It was the house he’d grown up in, the house he’d moved his mom out of when he’d made his first million. It felt strange to see it now and to think of someone else living there. What was their life like?
“Are you getting out, sir?” the driver asked, but Alex shook his head.
“No… I’ll already get an earful for being late as it is,” he replied.
They drove on for about half a mile, passing out of the center of the town and into the leafy suburb, where large houses stood on tree-lined avenues, surrounded by lush gardens and white picket fences.
Everyone seemed to have a sprinkler, and, as the showers or rain arced over the lawns, it was as though the whole street was filled with rainbows.
The only exception was Alex’s mom’s house, where a gardener was hard at work in the beds.
A pink convertible — a gift from Alex the previous year — stood shining on the drive.
There was no sign of his mom, but the gardener pointed Alex to the side gate, telling him she’d given instructions not to be disturbed.
“I think she’s in the hot tub,” the gardener said.
Alex grinned. His mom had found a taste for the finer things in life. Though, given her choice of car color, “taste” might not be the right word.
“Mom? Are you back here?” Alex called out, letting himself through the side gate.
A sound of water splashing came from beyond, and his mom now appeared, wrapped in a terrycloth robe.
“Alex, you’re here! I was wondering when you’d arrive,” she said, coming to embrace him.
“I had a meeting this morning about the Japanese purchase. It went on longer than I expected,” he said.
His mom nodded. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Isn’t it warm? I hope it stays like this for the week. Come and sit down. I’ll get Louise to fix you a drink. I was going to have some lemonade,” she said.
Louise had been hired to help Alex’s mom.
The friendly woman worked six days a week, cooking and cleaning.
It was a far cry from the days when Alex would return home to find a TV dinner thawing in the sink, and instructions on how to use the microwave.
He was glad to think his money had provided for his mom.
She deserved it and was obviously happy.
She was a picture of health: tanned, her hair dyed blond, her makeup immaculate.
She’d developed a love of clothes, and even in a terrycloth robe, she managed to look glamorous.
Her nails were painted bright pink, just like the car.
“Lemonade would be nice. I just grabbed something on the way to the airport. It’s strange being back here,” he said.
His mom looked at him curiously.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Alex shrugged.
“I don’t know. It just is. I wasn’t expecting… It’s been so long since I’ve been here. You usually come to Florida,” he said.
Alex owned several hotels on the Florida Keys, and he and his mom would often meet there for a weekend to catch up, though inevitably Alex would find it necessary to work.
“You’ll get used to it,” his mom replied. “Home’s home, after all. And you’ll see all your friends, too. You must be looking forward to that.”
“I am, but it’s been so long since I last saw them. A lot’s changed since then,” Alex said.
His mom nodded.
“I saw Rachel the other day. She told me how pleased they are to have you coming to the wedding. And Kaitlyn’s been in town, too. I’ve seen her a few times. The poor thing lost her mom a few months back.”
Alex was taken by surprise. He’d heard nothing about the death of Kaitlyn’s mom, but there was no reason why he should. He hadn’t kept in contact with her, or with anyone who might think it right to tell him.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked.
His mom shrugged.
“I didn’t think you’d be interested. You haven’t seen her for years, have you?”
Alex sighed. It was true. He’d hardly gone out of his way to make an effort, and yet he felt guilty at the thought of Kaitlyn going through something so terrible without support.
I’m sure she had plenty. You weren’t her only friend. It’s not like you tried to be in touch with her before.
Alex felt regret. Being back in Cedarhurst was already giving him too much time for thinking.
What would he say when he met Kaitlyn again?
Pushing aside such thoughts, he took the glass of lemonade Louise had brought out for him.
The garden was idyllic. A peaceful haven, compared to the noise and dust of New York, and yet the stillness — the peace — was making Alex uncomfortable. It was going to be a long week.