Chapter 18
Eighteen
S ybil
I arrive early to the office on Monday morning since my workload has essentially doubled.
Top of the World needs loads of my attention, but I refuse to put the brakes on projects with the foundation.
They’re too important to me, especially the fundraiser we have coming up in the fall to help raise money for disabled children.
We’re partnered with Able to Rise , an organization that teaches kids like my brother essential life skills, partners families with the resources they need, and they even have an incredible summer camp program Chandler adored while growing up.
Mom met them through Chandler and quickly fell in love with their mission, helped them get partnered with The Laurence Foundation, and now, years later, we’ve become their main donor.
So this fundraiser? It has to go off without a hitch. There’s too much riding on the line for it to fail. Not only does Laurence donate, but so do many of the generous patrons who attend the event.
Only a few minutes after settling in for the day, Lance Vale knocks on my glass door and lets himself into my office. “I thought I’d find you here bright and early,” he says, eyeing the stack of papers on my desk. “You always were a hard worker.”
My hands still on the keyboard as I offer him a bright smile. “Good morning, Mr. Vale. How are you? Anything I can help you with?”
“I’m doing well, Sybil,” he says. “I want to see how you are doing?”
I don’t know him well enough to tell him the truth, and it’s not as if I can be completely honest with my boss.
He’s not my father, someone I told almost everything to.
Dad and I were close. Sure, Vale has been around the company for years since he was the chief operations officer before stepping into this interim role, but he was Dad’s business associate. He wasn’t really a family friend.
Frankly, Vale lacks charisma, but he makes up for it with ambition. He’ll do whatever it takes to get that CEO position, even if that cost includes buttering me up.
“I’m doing well,” I answer carefully. “It’s been busy, but I’ve got Laurence at the forefront of my mind.”
Vale nods, silvery eyes assessing me. He’s in his fifties, with graying hair to match those gray eyes.
I’ve always found him a little unsettling.
He’s not a warm person, but he’s done a good job since Dad died.
The shareholders are happy, and the pressure for the board to promote him officially has been growing.
But with Conrad King’s newest bombshell, our stocks are precarious again, and Top of the World needs to be flawless. Not only so Laurence can make our investment worth it, but that five percent Cooper owns is making people nervous.
“I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” Vale drums his fingertips on the top of my desk. “But I want you to report directly to me for the time being.”
I swallow hard. I’m fully aware a lot of eyes in the company are currently turned in my direction, so I’m not surprised Vale wants to keep close tabs.
“We have a lot riding on your success,” he confirms. “I so wish your father were here to see it. I know you’ll succeed. He knew it, too.”
Something about the compliment rings false.
I sit up taller. “Am I right to assume you don’t just want reports on the foundation work, but you want me to share what’s going on with Top of the World?”
His eyes flash with approval. “That’s correct. Everything you’re working on is important. You have a lot to juggle, my girl.”
He says “my girl” like my father used to, like he thinks of me as a child looking for his guidance. It makes me instantly miss Dad and puts a sour taste in my mouth about Vale.
“I won’t fail,” I reply.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you. Talk to HR about hiring an assistant. You’re going to need help, and I expect you’ll do whatever it takes. Do you understand?”
I run my hands across imaginary wrinkles in my skirt. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He knocks once on my desk as if to seal the deal. “Every Friday, I want a full report. Contact my admin to set up a standing fifteen-minute one-on-one meeting.”
With that, he exits the office, closing the glass door behind him.
It’s not until he’s completely removed from my eye-line that my muscles relax.
Vale never made me nervous before. He wasn’t someone I needed to worry about.
My dad had my back, and I knew no matter what, I had a place at Laurence International.
Now? I’m not so sure.
Just because I don’t need this job for money doesn’t mean I don’t want this career.
I love this job. This is my company, too.
My legacy.
As a massive conglomerate with holdings in many sectors, there are a lot of things I could do here, but the foundation work holds my heart.
I don’t see myself doing anything besides nonprofit work.
Sure, I love interior design, but that’s a hobby, and it doesn’t fulfill me like this fulfills me.
There are other ways to do it, of course, but The Laurence Foundation is mine.
Just then, Miriam Katz, my real boss and the current president of the foundation, barrels into my office like an angry Karen, ready to ask for the manager.
“What was Lance Vale doing in here?” she demands, spitting his name out like it’s a curse word.
I sigh and lean into my chair. “He wants me to report to him now.”
Which means he wants me to go above her.
She presses her hand to her heart in outrage, eyes going wide underneath her round spectacles.
“That man! I knew he never liked me.” She mutters a few Yiddish curse words and paces the length of my small office.
Miriam isn’t the type to sit down for long, even at her age.
Not that I know her exact age. She treats it like a state secret, but she’s got to be pushing seventy.
I shake my head. “He likes you fine, Miriam. He wants me to report to him because of the show I’m co-producing and the issue with the five percent stake in the company.”
She knows all the drama, but she still turns on me with her hands on her hips and incredulous lines around her mouth.
“As if you’d ever fail. You’re the most capable employee I’ve managed in decades.
That greedy little bastard is trying to get me to retire faster.
Mark my words, he wants me out. He’s never liked me, not since I told him off in 2003 for wearing too much cheap cologne and giving me a migraine. ”
I snort. I can’t help it. Miriam Katz has been with the company for ages and has been talking about retiring for the better part of ten years.
She’s the type who will move somewhere glamorous, like Europe, instead of the typical Florida or Arizona like most retirees flock off to after leaving Manhattan.
“You’ve already told everyone you’re leaving in the fall. I think he can wait a few months, Miriam.”
Her white bob bounces as she shakes her head. “He better give you my job when I leave or I’m not going anywhere. I’ll die in this office if I have to.”
I stifle a laugh. As much as I’m gunning for her job, I love the woman and wouldn’t mind working for her for many more years. But that’s not what she wants. She’s ready to retire.
“I don’t think it works that way,” I say. “You can’t demand I get your job when you leave. You’re not on the hiring board for higher-level positions.”
“Well, it should work that way. Nobody can fill my shoes like you can.”
She gives me a wink, and I return it with a smile.
This woman is incredible and has worked tirelessly to build The Laurence Foundation to what it is today.
We provide millions of dollars to charity every year, providing a great tax write-off for Laurence International.
This job is highly sought after since it pays like a regular corporate job, but the work is more rewarding.
I’m not the only person in New York City who knows this work like the back of my hand.
There are many qualified people who would kill for this chance.
But this is Laurence International. My last name. My legacy.
And I want it so badly I can taste it.
“We’re both gunning for me to get the job,” I assure her. “But either way, you will be able to retire in October as soon as our Able to Rise event wraps up. You have nothing to worry about.”
She tuts to herself. “We’ll have to make sure we do excellent work for the next five months, right? They’ll have to hire you in my stead. We won’t give them any excuse not to.”
“They will.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I don’t like that Mr. Vale. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Shh.” I look at the door, grateful it’s closed, but this is a busy office, and there are listening ears everywhere. “Keep your voice down, would you? He’s your boss, too.”
“No, your father was my boss. Vale is the interloper here by default.”
“He’s done a pretty good job, though. Most of the board has recommended him to be the next CEO hire. Mom is on the fence, but I think she’s almost convinced.”
“Your mom said it’s better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. I told her he’s still the devil.”
I bark out a laugh, then cover my mouth. “Don’t say that.”
She points at me. “He’s missing a lot of the qualities your father had.”
My heart sinks. As if my father was an angel? “My dad…”
My voice trails off, and my eyes burn. I don’t know what to say, nor do I want to cry at work. Doesn’t matter if I see Miriam as more than a mentor; it would be embarrassing and unprofessional to cry here. My office is like a fishbowl sometimes.
Miriam doesn’t care. She comes around my desk and tugs me into her arms, hugging me tight. She feels small but strong in my arms, and yet she’s the one who’s holding me upright.
Grief is a sleeper-cell sometimes. I was good this morning. I’ve been busy and distracted. Maybe it’s because the one-year anniversary of his death is coming up. That and having to talk to Vale about work when I should’ve been talking to my dad.
“Gregory was a good man,” she insists. “He did some bad things and made mistakes. He had secrets. But he was still good, and don’t you ever forget that, okay, honey?”
I nod and let go. She steps away with a tight smile. “And don’t ask me to suck up to Vale. I’ve never done it before, and I’m not about to start now. As far as I’m concerned, when I retire in October, he can kiss my crusty-old ass on my way out the door.”
I can’t help but giggle-snort for the third time during our conversation. Her humor has a way of lessening the sting of sadness. God, I love this woman. I want to be just like Miriam Katz when I grow up.