Page 73 of Cru's Crush
“Get ’em all back.”
He took off down the driveway, throwing rocks in his wake while I called my brother and told him what was happening.
“I’ll start making calls,” he said. “Oh, and before you hang up, what do you know about Eberly Warrick?”
“Warwick?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
“Not much. She’s quite a bit younger than us. Her dad was in Los Caballeros with Pop, though. Why?”
“She applied for the event-planner job.”
“That was quick.”
“Right. Okay, I gotta go and rustle up the crews,” he said, ending the call before I could say anything else.
A few years ago, Los Cab—the winery—had gone organic. I hoped that whatever Naughton’s magical cure for the fungus was, it wouldn’t jeopardize that certification. On the other hand, if we didn’t have grapes to harvest, what was the point of being organic?
20
DAPHNE
By the time my mum finished telling me what she knew about Steve Dorian, I was as baffled as I was angry.
Another Cullen House board member had recommended the man to fill a vacant seat, and within six months, some of the members who’d been with my father for years had resigned. Not long after, Dorian had called for my father to step down as chairman. Either that or relinquish his role as CEO.
“Why did Dad go along with it?” I asked.
“He was made to believe it was for the good of the company. That is the role of a board, Daphne. Your father always listened to recommendations, based on his belief they all shared the same goals.”
“It didn’t occur to him something was up when his formerly trusted advisors started resigning?”
“In hindsight, maybe it should’ve, but it didn’t. We can’t go back and change it, Daphne,” she snapped.
“Sorry, Mum. I’m just trying to understand.”
“Before his stroke, I believe he may have uncovered something about Dorian that would’ve given him reason to have him removed from the board.”
“What?”
She sighed. “If I knew, I would say so.”
“Sorry,” I repeated, this time under my breath.
Admittedly, I’d wondered why everyone went along with this guy. Was he paying them off? Or was there something more to it?
“I need to get to the bottom of this.”
“What do you have in mind?” my mum asked.
“Mrs. Stanhope.”
My mother’s eyes lit up for the first time since I arrived in Perth. “Good thinking.”
The woman had been my father’s long-term secretary and would know more about the former and current board members than anyone other than him.
“Oh, Daphne, I’m so happy you’re home. It will mean the world to your father,” she said when she answered my call.
