11. “How You Like Me Now?” #3
The receptionist nodded with a smile as Marie delegated tasks to the staff with poised authority.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne.”
“Ladies.”
The elevator doors opened, and Soren turned. His smile froze as he frowned in confusion. “Warren.” His gaze briefly shifted to Marie.
The imperceptible shake of her head answered the unasked question—Warren wasn’t supposed to be there. An unexpected variable that carried some level of meaning Soren needed to figure out.
He turned back to the older man and quickly covered his surprise. “Great to see you again.”
“Always a pleasure, Soren.” He shook his hand, clasping it in two of his own. “I believe you know my daughter.”
Another surprise. Olivia slipped from the elevator just before the metal doors closed.
“Yes, of course. Olivia, how are you?” He took her hand and brushed a kiss on her cheek.
Her smile was practiced, almost perfect, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Soren.”
“I figured it was a good day to stop by,” Warren said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Soren’s attention had fractured, half tracking the older man’s affability, half locked on Olivia as she shifted to her father’s side.
She held his gaze as her father filled the hall with small talk. She didn’t soften. Didn’t look away. Just met him head-on with the kind of steady regard that dropped like a gauntlet.
This wasn’t a friendly visit. This was a challenge.
“A welcomed change of plans,” Soren said, faking indifference as he tried to decipher what this visit implied.
“Olivia mentioned she’d be in town and offered to act as my proxy,” Warren continued, steering them toward the conference room, his hand never leaving Soren’s shoulder.
“When I saw my schedule was open, I figured I’d fly in and join her, see how things are going.
It’s a rare occasion when my schedule aligns so flawlessly with my daughter’s. ”
He had no doubt Olivia played a role in clearing her schedule to make sure such an alignment happened.
The strategists were already assembled around the table when they entered, three of them from the firm Hawthorne retained.
Their eyes flicked up, surprise registering when not only the CEO but Warren Aldrich himself stepped in.
They recovered quickly, rising, extending hands, and offering the best chairs at the table.
Olivia took a seat directly across from Soren, where she continued to watch him with that same penetrating expression.
The meeting began in a smooth, well-oiled display of capability that showed these men and women had come prepared.
Numbers populated the screen as the presentation began.
The strategists jumped right into business, pitching theories and speaking on market opportunities, risk assessment, and projected ROI, only to pause every so often to directly address him and Warren, kissing both their asses with equal measure.
Soren listened, tracked the logistics, and noted where the analysis was solid and where it glossed over complications. Warren did the same. Olivia, however, seemed more interested in studying him.
Her posture remained flawless through her silent observation, and Soren wondered what she was looking for. The dutiful daughter seemed the perfect accessory to her aging father’s power, a beautiful asset distracting enough to give Warren a youthful edge.
Her gaze remained fixed on his face with an intensity that hadn’t been there over wine. No flirtation in those pale blue eyes now. No soft vulnerability to her usually pouty mouth.
When the presentation was finished, Warren leaned back in his leather chair, the material creaking softly beneath his weight. A satisfied smile curved his pale lips.
“This is excellent work,” he said, gesturing at the screen with a weathered hand. “Really excellent.”
One of the strategists nodded eagerly, launching into more benefits of establishing a distribution hub in Warsaw.
Olivia shifted slightly in her chair. The movement barely perceptible, but her father’s eyes flicked to her and held for a moment. Deep approval showed on his face. He liked having her here. Perhaps he even viewed her as a possible protégé.
Maybe that had always been his hope. Olivia had never mentioned such ambitions to Soren personally, but she seemed to take great interest in her father’s pursuits now.
But he was no idiot, and he was not the easy mark her father might be. She was playing both of them, but only one of them realized it was a game.
He’d bet his board seat this wasn’t about her professional ambitions. She was making a play, but not the play her father assumed.
Her act of dutiful daughter might feed Daddy the narrative that she belonged in rooms like this, but this wasn’t a career move she intended to pursue. It was a power play, much bigger than some inherited seat on the board as shipping heiress.
She was showing Soren she understood the game and didn’t like to lose.
The meeting continued for another twenty minutes as strategists walked through contingencies.
Warren asked sharp questions that proved a strong understanding of the companies’ alignment. Aldrich Shipping would make a perfect mate to Hawthorne Fishery, and there was very little argument to go against their decision to move forward with the partnership.
When they finally wrapped, the senior board member and shipping mogul stood and extended his hand.
Soren shook it, the older man’s maintained strength unmistakable as Warren held on for an extended moment, then clapped Soren’s shoulder with genuine affection.
“You know,” Warren said, his voice dropping so only Soren could hear, “I was one of the first to back your father’s company. I knew Magnus as well as anyone could. He was brilliant.”
Soren’s chest seized as it always did at the mention of his father’s intellect. Yes, Magnus had been a great businessman, but that was where his greatness ended. In the end, his ideas were exceedingly outdated, and he was a cold son of a bitch in every other part of his life.
He feared Warren might be holding a little too tightly to the past.
Warren’s grip remained clamped on Soren’s shoulder. “A true visionary. But he was hard—too hard, sometimes, on the company, on himself, and especially on you boys.”
The words landed with a jolt, momentarily throwing Soren off balance.
Warren’s weathered eyes held his. “You’re a good son, taking on the family legacy like this.
Magnus could never appreciate the kind of gift his legacy has wrought.
To have children who actually take such an interest in the family business…
” His gaze briefly drifted to Olivia. “It’s a shame he couldn’t take comfort in knowing you would step up when the time came. ”
“Well, my father was always one to keep his true feelings on family matters safely exclusive from business dealings.”
“That may be true, but no protégé will ever compare to a son.”
Something shifted in Olivia’s eyes, and for a moment he pitied her. No matter how much her father might appreciate her momentary interest in the company, he would have traded it all for a firstborn son’s.
In true conventional fashion, she recovered before anyone else noticed she’d been slighted. Chin lifted, shoulders back, a sovereign in her own right.
“Your dad was too busy trying to remake you in his past image to see all the ways you might outperform him in the future,” Warren continued. “But I see you. And I respect the leader you’ve become, Soren.”
For a moment, Soren couldn’t breathe. There was something genuine in the other man’s voice and such paternal admiration was a foreign intrusion his mind couldn’t process.
He’d heard every word, but the meaning of such a statement burrowed too deep for him to follow, at least not here, in a boardroom full of associates, in front of Olivia, who absolutely noted the impact her father’s words were having on him.
The room tilted slightly, and he cleared his throat, struggling to keep his CEO mask in place and squeeze out a thank you. “Thank you, sir,” he finally managed.
Years of hungering for such validation from his own father and never receiving it didn’t just bruise a man. It left scars he’d carry for the rest of his life.
Warren released him with a smile. “I’m proud of you, son.”
Olivia cocked her head observantly, taking note of the now exposed nerve her father had struck.