Page 2 of Colton's Secret Weapon
She nodded. “I know. I’m here because he’s losing his business, Mitchell. I’ve tried everything I know to do, but nothing is working. One of his longest-standing employees, Oscar Earnhardt—you know him?”
“I thought Whaler fired him.”
“He did. He had to. Oscar’s got as bad a drinking problem as Dad has. I think he thought that since Dad was drinking, he got a bye on his own situation. His wife left him, which made things worse. He quit showing up to work, or would show up drunk, and tourists would be left with a precious vacation day wasted because there was no one to facilitate the boat rental they’d reserved. Dad cut him slack again and again. Warned him. The last straw, though, was when he wrecked one of Dad’s most expensive and sought-after boats. There could easily have been customers in it with him, and as much as Dad hated to, he had to let him go…”
Mitchell figured, with as fast as words were bursting out of her, that she’d rehearsed the whole thing. Figured it was only polite to let her get it out. It wasn’t like he was in a huge hurry to find out how she thought he might be of assistance to Whaler. He’d help if he could.
“The other couple of guys working for him don’t know nearly as much as Oscar did about the area. You’re a Colton, grew up in the field of tourist adventures with RTA, you know how important that kind of knowledge is to someone on vacation up here.”
At the mention of Rough Terrain Adventures, the company founded by his father and uncle and currently run by one of his older brothers and his cousin, and the segue from there back to Whaler’s business, Mitchell frowned.
Again, lawyer. Not professional adventurer. Though, he knew the area as well as anyone else in his family. And was out in it, on his own solo adventures, every chance he got.
“I’ve been hoping the loss of his job would help Oscar sober up, which would let Dad hire him back, but so far, not at all. And if Dad loses his business, I’m going to lose him.”
She had problems. He’d give her that. “What is it you think I can do?”
“You helped him form his corporation years ago. He said then that you’d talked to him about things you, as a corporate lawyer, could do to help him with parts of running it, too. But Mom was already sick then, and he’d been worried about the money.”
Mitchell raised his eyebrows at that one. He was to believe that years later, and with the business failing, Whaler suddenly had more money?
“Dad did well in his career,” Dove said. “He’d invested enough to provide for him and Mom into retirement, but we’re still paying off her medical bills, so I can’t pay you much, but I’ll sign over a portion of the company to you. Or you can write up some contract that gives you a portion of the proceeds until your fee is paid. I’ll pay you myself, if you can take monthly installments—small ones… I just need your help. Please.”
For a second there, unable to miss the woman’s sincere distress, Mitchell considered any possibility that he could give her the positive response she was so desperately seeking.
A split second.
While he knew a whole lot about running an adventure company for tourists, his expertise came in preventing disaster before it happened, or cleaning up messes after they’d been made. As a corporate attorney, he could help with investments and suggest various ways to make them, but clearly there wasn’t enough cash flow to get started.
Sometimes dealing with employee relations was the key, and again, getting someone sober wasn’t in his wheelhouse.
Mitchell gave her the respect of appearing to seriously consider her request before he said, “I sympathize with your situation, but I’m just not seeing where the Shelby Law Office can be of any help here. If your father had come to me sooner…” He let the sentence fall short. Shrugged.
Not sure that, with Whaler’s drinking, he’d have been able to help even then.
And, as her shoulders slumped, Mitchell wished that, like Stuart, he’d taken the whole day off, too.
He was telling her no. Dove’s heart put up roadblocks, which caused a major pileup of emotion. She couldn’t just give up. And Mitchell Colton was her last resort.
She’d dreaded coming to him. Had known what a long shot he was.
Holding her lips together by sheer force of will, she lifted her head slowly. Breathing in deeply through her nose as she did so. Tapping into learned resources to calm herself.
And made it right until Mitchell’s face came into view.Nowas written all over it. But something in his eyes wasn’t…cold.
Maybe not warmth. Or compassion. But her heart, which never lied to her, recognized an understanding that unleashed her desperation.
Tears sprang to her eyes. And spilled over, too. Before she had any conscious sense they’d broken free. “My father needs your help, Mitchell,” she said. “You’re his last hope. And until you’ve taken a look at things, how do you even know there’s nothing you can do?” She blinked against the tears, talking through them. “How would you ever get new clients if you didn’t at least vet them? Maybe there’s something you’d know how to capitalize on. Could even be a lawsuit or something that he could bring for something.” That last pie-in-the-sky scenario was accompanied by a large, inelegant sniffle. After which she helped herself to a tissue from a box on the corner of his desk.
Blew her nose. Took another and wiped her eyes. And wondered if he kept the box there because he was used to making his clients cry.
Words continued to spew rapidly through her mind, and once they’d started to break free, she couldn’t hold them all. She’d bite some back and, while she was busy doing that, others slipped through. “Isn’t this some kind of discrimination?”
Cringing inside at the absurdity, she knew she couldn’t take it back and so went forward with it. “Refusing to even take a look at a possible case? And isn’t your oldest brother a cop? I wonder what he would think of his little brother breaking the law?”
As soon as the words were out, she knew she’d gone too far. And still she couldn’t back down. Or completely stop the tears that were filling her eyes. More of a trickle than a flood but still there.
“All I’m asking is that you take a look,” she said then. Finding a small piece of zen in the midst of her storm. “Please.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I know you and my dad are ongood terms. He’s on the verge of losing everything,” she said. “And that would kill him.”
