I had thanks to him, quickly climbing up the ranks at Blackstone to become Frank’s right hand. Being named general counsel of Blackstone Holdings at age thirty-four was an accomplishment few people could speak of and I would eternally be grateful to him.
“How?” Mired in shock, my voice sounded hollow.
As we stared at each other, the silence thickened. So many unspoken truths hung between us. Neither of us wanted to acknowledge that moments like this one, with the two of us sitting across the desk from each other, like we’d done for years, would soon go extinct.
“Melanoma.”
Frank cut an imposing figure. He was large-framed and big-boned, a Mt. Rushmore of a man with the gravitas to match. Standing an easy six foot three at seventy-one meant that Frank had been even taller at one point. And not beyond getting his hands dirty. I’d once watched him change a flat on his Rolls-Royce Phantom in under half an hour on the shoulder of the FDR––during rush hour. Even his driver, who had thrown out his back, was amazed.
And yet he looked smaller to me in that moment.
For the first time since I’d met him, sitting in the oversized custom chair made to accommodate the bravado of a man who had built a global company from the ground up with a mere fifty thousand dollars, Frank Blackstone looked his age.
“But…you beat it…”
His attention wandered out the floor-to-ceiling window, the Manhattan skyline gray and soggy. Only roofs were visible from this height. He’d purposely designed the executive suite on the top floor to make sure his adversaries knew he would always look down upon them. I had thought the story over-the-top, dramatic as fuck, but that was Frank in a nutshell.
“It beat back.”
Seeing him look so calm and accepting of the situation bothered me, made me feel powerless. And that was one emotion I didn’t handle very well. “Frank…”
He looked at me and his expression shifted, the change in him lightning quick. I wasn’t sure what triggered it, but stone-cold resolve replaced the vulnerability he’d worn only a moment ago. It was a look I’d come to know well, the same one Frank donned when he was going for the nuts on a business deal. I didn’t know what to make of it, my own emotions being on a rollercoaster and I hadn’t strapped in for the ride yet.
“I want you to do something for me.”
The inflection in his deep voice shook me out my heavy thoughts and sparked a heightened sense of awareness. Frank’s requests routinely ranged from just short of committing a felony to fetching him a glass of water and you never knew which one was coming because he delivered both in the same innocuous tone. “I need to know that Blackstone will stay in family control. I don’t trust the board to do right by Marjorie.”
Marjorie…my heart broke for her. Marjorie and Frank were inseparable. They still held hands at public events. Frank’s wife was one of the kindest ladies I’d ever met.
“Does she know?”
“Yes…we’ve known since September.”
It was the first week of December. My confusion quickly switched to anger and betrayal. Frank never withheld anything from me. At least, he hadn’t until now.
“You’ve known for months and didn’t tell me––your general counsel? I gotta say, I’m kind of pissed.”
The chair squeaked as it tipped back a fraction, Frank’s stare flat. “I needed time.”
It was as cryptic a reply as he’d ever given me.
“Time for what? What did the doctors say? And why aren’t you at MD Anderson right now? You need to fight this!”
The best defense was a great offense. Frank had taught me that. And yet he didn’t look like he was gearing up for a fight at all. “Attack first worry about the consequences later. Remember? You filled my head with that junk for years. Years, Frank. And now you’re just going to go quietly into the night?”
“Calm down,” he softly admonished. “I don’t have a lot of time left and I’m not about to spend it arguing with you.”
That knocked the fight out of me. With it went my frustration and my strength. “I’m sorry. I just…I can’t believe it.”
“I’m going to miss you too, kid.” A heavy dose of sympathy filled his eyes. An understanding passed between us. Bittersweet nostalgia. Neither of us was the type to emote and here we were, both emoting as all get out. “I want to make sure the line of succession is clear, that it won’t end up