Love Was Not The Plan

Chapter 4

"Listen up!" George barked, looking into everyone seated with piercing eyes. "The Wesleys land in seven days from now. This partnership isn't that opportunity we can afford to miss.”

He pointed a shaking finger at the facilities manager. "Carlton” he called, his voice echoing across the boardroom. “The atrium ficus has brown spots. Fix it or replace it!"

And when Carlton had noted that down, he spun to the PR director. "Martha – the welcome video feels like a funeral dirge. Add smiling farmers. Golden wheat. Happy cows!"

Turning to Karen who was seated face down, and didn't catch the subtle disgust that flickered in his eyes the moment his gaze landed on her. She was deep in thought as to the manner in which George, her uncle was declared CEO. It was a very painful experience she wished was a dream and wondered why her father would betray her in such a manner.

"...I appoint my brother, George William Anderson, as Chief Executive Officer and sole Trustee of the controlling shares…"

“Excuse me!” Karen interjected the lawyer at that point, suddenly finding her voice and getting up, shrugging Kelly’s hands off her shoulders, as she walked towards Thorne.

“What rubbish! I'm supposed to be the CEO of Cibus Inc. I've worked hard for this.” She screamed. This was unbelievable. Something was definitely wrong.

“I'm sorry ma'am. Here, you can check the papers” Thorne suggested, his tone gentle, handing her the papers. Grabbing the papers forcefully from him, Karen's bulging eyes ran through them, as Kelly rushed to her side. And just when she got the confirmation, she felt her heartbeat pause for a second. Her hands began to vibrate as she held the papers. She couldn't believe it. So all along, what she has worked hard for, believing to be her birthright, really wasn't hers? And just then, the tears began to fall. Thorne took the papers from her hand gently, while Kelly stood beside her, clutching her to himself, to steady her.

George lowered his gaze from the ceiling and met Karen’s eyes. With a pure expression and practiced sorrow, he gave a small, regretful shake of his head as if to say ‘I wish it weren’t so’.

Mr. Thorne continued, "...effective immediately upon my death, to hold and manage in perpetuity for the stability and growth of the company…"

Aunt Eve let out a tiny, muffled sob of relief and quickly covered it with her handkerchief.

"...with the provision that Karen Anderson retains her current position as Senior Vice President and Special Assistant to the CEO…"

The words kept coming but Karen heard nothing else. The room swam. The leather-bound books looked blurred. Her father’s face swam in her memory, wearing his proud smile and promising "It’s all yours one day, Kare-bear.”

Mr. Thorne finished reading and closed the folder. With his head shot up, he looked around.

"Are there any questions?"

George cleared his throat as he stood up, his voice thick with false grief.

"This is indeed a heavy burden, Mr. Thorne. But I accept it. For Damian. For the company." He looked at Karen, his eyes damp with manufactured tears. "Karen, my dear. I know this isn’t what you expected. But your father… he wanted stability. Continuity. I’m here to guide you, to protect his legacy—"

At this point, Karen shrugged Kelly off her body, shooting Thorne a murderous look with her tears brimming eyes. up. Then her gaze shifted to the closed cream-colored folder on her father’s desk. The paper that had just erased her birthright. And when she had had enough, she walked out, without a word, with Kelly following closely behind.

The hallway seemed long and dark, as they kept walking without saying a word. Questions swamped her mind, with each step she took. Of course she had questions. But unfortunately, they were questions only the dead could answer.

She found herself in tears by the time she realized she was in the middle of a meeting.

“May I know the status of the reports, Karen?” George bellowed, that cold voice jolting her for a second as her breath was caught mid-way. Finally lifting her eyes, she ensured to look anywhere else but his.

“I…I'll have…it for…forwarded to your mailbox before the ... .end of today.” She replied. George looked steadily at her, his silence giving a dramatic pause.

“Do I need to remind you of your duties every time? Or you're still mourning your Father after six months? Cos that's always your excuse!”

“With due respect sir, there was no need bringing the dead into this!” Kelly interjected, turning his face away afterwards, expecting the worst. George threw him a cold gaze, one capable of pinning a person.

“You're all dismissed!” He finally said, finally taking his eyes off Kelly, whose gaze was terrified of meeting his, and scurried off, along with the others.

“Coward!”

Restlessly pacing the Persian rug in his study, George watched Eve arrange lilies in a vase. "Stop fiddling with the damn flowers! I'm trying to concentrate!” He snapped, puzzling Eve who turned her head to his direction looking confused. Seeing he was restless, she got up, left what she was doing and walked to him.

"George! What’s gotten into you?"

He drained his glass and slammed it down and leaned heavily on the desk. "What’s gotten into me? Bankruptcy, Eve! That’s what!" He sounded exhausted. He yanked open a drawer got out a bound report and placed it on the desk.

“Look! Liquidity ratios tanking. Debt covenants breached next month. If the Wesley deal collapses…" He ran a hand through thinning hair. "The board will hang me out to dry. The press will call me the i***t who wrecked Anderson's empire. We’ll be selling these lilies on the street corner!"

Eve sighed, shaking her head at the dilemma of her husband. If she was being sincere, for the past six months, Cibus Inc. had been under a very poot management. But that mustn't get to the press. And with the pending issues at hand, it's either Cibus partners with the Wesleys or it won't be long before their shame is uncovered.

“I hear his son is into women and Mae likes him very much. We can orchestrate an avenue for them to meet and we'll see how to matchmake them. There's no way we won't win their partnership with this.” Eve said, parting her husband, who chuckled at her idea.

“I hope it works. Cos we really need this partnership. We'll be meeting with them next week.” He said and sighed.

“It will! I'll make sure of it. For a start, I know where he clubs. We can start off from there.” She said smiling, looking tenderly at her husband who was already wearing a smile of hope.

Stepping on the marble lobby floor of Cibus Inc., Adam adjusted his navy tie for the third time that morning, fought a yawn and glared at the corporate logo – a stylized wheat sheaf . “The fifth pointless meeting, just this week!” He thought as his gaze rested on the logo, while his father stride ahead. He was really exhausted, knowing this would be just another meeting that wouldn't result in any good.

He had wondered why Cibus inc. reached out to partner with them. His father has put that out as an opportunity for start-ups. But trying to be fair, his father had decided to give him a chance. He shook his head as he continued walking. “He could have just rejected this!” He murmured as he walked to catch-up with his father.

A harried assistant scurried past clutching overflowing file folders and mumbled "Conference room B, gentlemen" without stopping. Joe Wesley nodded curtly and punched the elevator button. Adam just remained silent. The elevator doors slid open and they stepped into the mirrored box.

Staff darted between glass-walled offices and voices resounded over intercoms. George Anderson walked toward them with racing heartbeat and a beaming smile. On getting to them, his arms outstretched, sweat gleaming on his forehead. "Joe! Adam! Welcome!" His handshake was too tight, too long. "Right this way! We’ve got the presentation ready—"

Adam half-listened as George went on and on about market synergies and gestured toward a sleek conference room. His gaze drifted past George’s shoulder, scanning the open-plan workspace – and stopped.

And there she was, standing in the doorway of a corner office. The mysterious stranger who he later found out to be Karen Anderson. And now, it made sense. She was an Anderson! When he had gotten her profile, he didn't prove further due to the influx of exhausting meetings they had. He had decided to ignore her, taking her as a frustrated commoner. But then, there she stood. Not in a faded sweater, but a tailored charcoal pantsuit. Not clutching yogurt, but a slim tablet. Her dark hair was pulled back severely. But even though she was properly dressed, she looked thinner. And as they drew near the conference room, she looked up, and their eyes locked!

Karen’s breath hitched as her eyeballs bulged. Her knuckles whitened on the tablet’s edge. Recognition, shock, and maybe even dread, flashed across her face. And Adam, he saw it all, picking every flicker of emotion as his lips widened in a sly smile. That slow, deliberate, predatory smile that says “found you!”

George followed Adam’s stare and with disgust filling his eyes, forced a jovial laugh. "Ah! Karen! Come meet our esteemed guests!"

She blinked, and exhaled, and began walking precisely towards them. In getting to them, she forced a professional smile, "Welcome Gentlemen," she said, her voice cool, professional, devoid of any tremor. "This way." She turned and walked toward the conference room, not looking back.

"Stop gawking and move." Joe whispered as Adam's gaze still remained shamelessly fixed on her, with the sly smile. Rolling his eyes, Adam continued walking behind him, till they got into the room.

He watched her take a seat at the long conference table. Her posture was rigid and her eyes fixed straight ahead, avoiding his. She only got up when she was called to begin the presentation.

Adam leaned back in his plush leather chair, steepling his fingers. He didn’t hear a word about market projections or distribution channels. He only saw the defiant line of her jaw, the pulse fluttering faintly at her throat. The game Vincent had paused was back on. And this time, Adam Wesley wouldn’t get distracted.