Page 38 of Boss

12.

Two Weeks Earlier -

“Mr. Marshall, we’ve been waiting,” Nancy greeted him with a polite smile. He passed her by. She marched at his side, keeping in step with his stride. The woman was older, in her late sixties, and the only one on staff he would meet with. The doctors shared all their updates on his father’s condition through Nancy.”

“Your brothers have contacted two senior members of the hospital board. They are demanding to see your father, and his medical records,” she said. “We tried to reach you while you were away. I wasn’t sure if we should proceed so we suggested they get a court order. You of course can approve a visit if you wish.”

“No,” he replied.

“It’s not an unreasonable request sir...” she began. “Your father is doing much better.”

“Is my answer a problem?” Tarek stopped.

“Ah, no Mr. Marshall. Not unless they get a court order, then... well, it could be out of our hands.”

“They won’t,” Tarek said and pushed the door open to his father’s room. Nancy, the administrator in the therapeutic health facility joined him. He glanced back at her. “Anything else Nancy?”

“I thought you might want to know that he’s making progress. Two days ago, he spoke. And just today he lifted his left hand.”

“Is that all?” he repeated.

“It’s wonderful news Mr. Marshall. We feared total paralysis after the stroke. I... well if you need me I will...”

“I won’t need you,” he said.

The woman nodded and smiled, then, she discreetly left the room. Tarek removed his Stetson. Most men in Texas owned a hat. Some like him preferred this one. He set his hat down on the bed in the room. His father wasn’t in it. At some point someone had helped the old fuck out of the bed, and wheeled him in his chair next to the window, unless his legs suddenly began to work like his hand.

“How goes it Pops?” Tarek asked.

Alek Marshall didn’t utter a sound. And Tarek wasn’t expecting a response, though the news of his progress disappointed him. He’d rather his old man sat in that chair and drooled, as he did since the stroke. Tarek walked over to his side.

The old man was still. Tarek let his gaze drop to his father. He stepped in front of the old guy and blocked the view of the window. The only movement his father owned was his eyes. They were aware. And when they focused on Tarek, he saw nothing but contempt. It’s what was left between them.

“Excuse the way I look. I had a bit of an accident while I was away. I’m better now.”

His father said nothing.

“I’ve met Yegor Kovalevsky,” he said. “It’s only a matter time before I am introduced to his father.”

Tarek leaned forward. “How do you feel about that? Me getting close to the Kovalevsky’s? Our companies doing business together again.”

Tarek’s father right eye twitched. His lips began to tremble as if he fought to speak.

“It’s happening old man. Just like I told you it would. Before I destroy everything you ever cared about. I’m going to get everything that is mine. And I’m going to make you watch.”

A small tear of drool dropped from his father’s bottom lip. It was connected to a long strand of saliva that landed on his lap. Tarek patted the old man on his shoulder. “Dale is up to his old tricks. He met with the board without either of us. Shut down the Campos Basin project. No worries Pops. I got a plan. Afterall I learned to play this game from you.”

Satisfied that his father’s misery was complete, Tarek left him seated there, plucked up his Stetson from the bed, situated it on his head and walked out.

13.

Kassidy was nervous. She kept turning her cup of coffee and glancing up to the door each time a person stepped through. It had been three weeks since she last saw Daniel and he was pissed.

Her phone buzzed across the table and she nearly jumped from her skin. She picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Tarek asked.

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