blackmailer ten million dollars without blinking an eye, but in the years I’ve been at LI, you never would’ve given the Duluth Lunds that kind of money to improve their business or their lives. They’ve languished and we’ve let them. That’s about to end. The only logical and ethical solution is to give Grover Lund’s other children ten million dollars. Each.”
When my dad opened his mouth, I held up my hand. “You, yourself, said that LI deals with sums much larger than fifty million dollars every day, so thirty million bucks . . . is a drop in the fish bucket, right?”
He snorted at that.
“LI will also give the Duluth Lunds financial advice—for free—on how best to protect their inheritance.”
“Done.”
“The LI board of directors will expand to include all three members of the Duluth Lunds. And someone from LI will contact the Lincoln Lund branch of the family to open a dialogue about some of them serving on the board too.”
“I’ll agree to that as long as you rescind your resignation from the board.”
I tapped my fingers on the couch. “Agreed. But my resignation from the company stands.”
My mom looked stricken. “Why?”
“While I’d like to believe I’ve been spinning my wheels at LI because the executive officers were trying to keep me from uncovering the reasons behind LuTek’s acquisitions, the truth is I need practical experience running a company. Not a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate.
“Dad, you’ve said it yourself that you were pretty seasoned by the time you took the CEO position. You’d bought and sold and merged several businesses to expand LI’s platform. I need to learn how to do that, and sitting behind a desk, double-checking all potential empire-building options that are brought to my attention by someone else, knowing that Brady will triple-check the bottom-line numbers anyway . . . renders my time there useless. So I’m taking the leap to sink or swim on my own.”
“Define ‘on your own,’” my dad demanded.
“I’ve been searching for ventures for investment, but I will focus my search for owner/operator-type businesses. I don’t need to remind you my Lund trust accounts give me plenty of capital.”
“You’d turn down partnerships and use your own money?”
I knew he wanted to bark at me that I hadn’t learned anything under his tutelage; the first rule of business is to always use someone else’s money to make money. “In the future? I’d absolutely be open to corporate partnerships. But to be blunt, if there’s no chance I’ll lose my inheritance, then how will I ever learn true risk management?”
Heavy silence stretched between us.
Then Dad cleared his throat. “I’ve always been proud of you, Nolan. But never prouder than this day, when you’ve shown you’re willing to risk it all not just for yourself, but to right family wrongs we’ve been ignoring for years.” He stood. “Now c’mere and give your old man a hug, and promise me you won’t be too proud to ask me for business advice if you ever need it.”
“I promise. And I’m not saying I won’t be back at LI someday.” Then I found myself enveloped in a hug from both of my parents. They squeezed me tightly but for the first time today, I felt like I could finally breathe.
Thirty
GABI
I cried myself to sleep. Alone.
Even witnessing my puffy eyes and face this morning didn’t keep more stupid tears from falling. I didn’t want to leave my apartment, so I paced, and stopped to look out the sliding glass door, ratty Kleenex clutched in my hand, everything in my line of sight a complete blur.
The knock at my door came too early for it to be Liddy. Or Dallas.
The look on Nolan’s face after he’d dismissed me yesterday . . . definitely wasn’t him.
So whoever it was could just go away. I wasn’t in the mood.
The interloper was persistent.
“Gabi. Open the damn door.”
Dani? What was she doing here?
I unlocked the door and let her in, immediately turning around to try and get myself together.
“What is going on with you? You don’t answer your phone or texts. And I get here, and you don’t wanna answer the door either? Are you sick or something?”
“I’m trying to work through some things and didn’t want to be disturbed, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay.” Grabbing my shoulder, she forced me to face her. “Are you crying?”
“No. It’s allergies.”
“Bull. Shit. Why is the tough-as-nails Gabriella Welk bawling her eyes out?”
“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Dani. Just go.”