Page 73 of A Secret Chance
His father raised his eyebrows at him and stepped back to the table. He picked up the report and ripped it in half. “Present the original plan.”
Baxter sat down and ran both of his hands through his hair. “Can I have a minute to consider, and to consult with Barry and Thomas?”
“No. A strong executive has to make decisions under the gun. You either take my original plans to the council or don’t bother showing up at all.”
All the time and all the effort he had put into this. Changing the plan was wrong, he knew it. He also knew that the only thing he had in his life at the moment was his job. His relationship with Lauren had just blown up, and the idea of heading back to the corporate office a demoted man didn’t sit well with him. If he didn’t have his career, his namesake, he didn’t have anything at all.
He looked up at his father, who had been staring at him. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll present your plan.”
“I thought so.” Baxter wanted to slap the smug look off the old man’s face. He hated himself. His father strode toward him and Baxter reached out his hand for the file folder. “You’re nothing like me,” he seethed. “You’re going to run Caldwell into the ground.”
“I already said I’d do it.” Baxter’s hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists at his side.
“You’re weak. Just like your mother.” Baxter stepped back, aghast. “Of course, you will do it.” The old man’s eyes flashed. “You’re pathetic. You believed in your changes, but as soon as the pressure was on, you cracked. You have a lot of growing up to do before I put you in charge of anything anymore.”
Baxter’s mother had been the kindest, sweetest woman. She had died when he was ten years old, but he still remembers volunteering at the animal shelter with her, the two of them walking all of the senior dogs that no one wanted. She was always fighting for the underdog, in that case, literally. She would’ve been proud of the changes he had made to Caldwell Creek.
Baxter didn’t know if it was from shock, but a sense of calmness washed over him. He handed the folder back to his father. “You don’t have to worry about me ruining your company because I quit.”
“You can’t quit. You’re a Caldwell.”
“Watch me.”
Baxter picked up his leather briefcase and strode out of the room, leaving his father behind.
He had spent the last ten years trying to prove to that bastard, and all of his cronies, that he belonged, that he was one of them. With the pressure of the position gone, he felt like he was floating as he walked out of the executive mansion. He wasn’t going to have to try for one more second. He wasn’t like them. Al, the driver was waiting in the black SUV and he hopped out when Baxter approached. “Where to, Baxter?”
“I don’t know,” Baxter said. “But do you mind if I drive?”
“Not at all, sir.” Al tossed the keys to Baxter and tipped his hat to him. Baxter slid into the driver’s seat, started up the car, and rolled down the window.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Caldwell?” Al asked.
“Yeah.” Baxter leaned out the window. “Call me Brock.”
He rolled up the window, stomped down on the gas and headed east, leaving Chance Rapids, Lauren, Caldwell Creek, and his legacy.
