Lib Novel Page 1
PROLOGUE
CHARLES
Three Months Ago
“No one is questioning your capability to run the business, Charles. Every board member believes there’s no one more suited than you.” Tim Baldwin takes a sip of his drink. He’s not just the oldest board member of the Hawthorne Empire but also my late grandfather’s best friend.
He knows what’s at stake here.
Four years ago, I stepped up as CEO of Hawthorne Holdings, our sister company, and now, following the decades-old tradition, the board has to vote for the next official head of Hawthorne Empire.
Everything was going well until a few weeks ago, when a gossip column targeted my love for solitude. It’s not the first time the media has pried into my personal life, but usually, they move on quickly to my professional work. That’s always worked in my favor—until now.
There must be a lull in celebrity scandals or star-studded weddings for the page three reporters to stay focused on me. One piece of gossip led to another, and soon they were questioning my heavily guarded privacy, labeling me as some sort of modern monk or hermit.
“But we can’t ignore your image the media has recently started to paint—a loner, a society-averse person,” comments Ronald Grint, the latest addition to the board committee and someone who believes that gossip news is the most authentic judgment of my character. “Cherrywood is a close-knit family town. The residents want to know that their interests are safe and in good hands. With your family business being a pivotal part of the town’s economy, your bachelor status, and more importantly, your detestation of social activities, raises a lot of eyebrows, son.”
Tim gets up from his seat and pats my back before walking to his bar, providing me his silent support while Ronald’s words feel like they’ve physically crawled under my skin, penetrating my fine Tom Ford suit and silk shirt.
“I was at the mayor’s house for a dinner party last night,” Ronald continues, “and someone brought up the topic of the next successor of the Hawthorne Empire. Even though everyone agreed you’re the best businessman, there were several arguments that your image lacks the warmth that is essential for a town leader.”
“I’m not running for a government position,” I snap, clenching my fists painfully. “Hawthorne Holdings has done more for the town’s economy under my leadership these last four years than in decades. I might not be the face of the business yet, but everyone knows I’m the one calling all the shots.”
Tim returns and leans back in his seat. “When it comes to the head of Hawthorne Empire, it will never be just about the numbers. You know better than anyone the influence your family has in this town.”
I stay silent because even though I hate his words, I know in my heart they are true.
“We wanted to give you a heads-up about the doubts the board members have before the official voting for the next Hawthorne heir.” Ronald straightens his tie while a storm of thoughts whirl inside my mind, each one stoking the fire of anger.
“What are you suggesting, then? That I hand this empire my forefathers built from nothing over to a stranger?”
“No one wants that, Charles.” Tim shakes his head subtly. “The easiest solution is to be more socially active. Or better yet, get married, or at least get engaged. You still have a few months. Find a nice girl if you haven’t already and settle down. What’s the problem with that?”
What he doesn’t know is that my privacy, my solitude, is the one thing I’ve kept for myself. I want to be enough just on my own—for myself, for the family business, and for this town.
1
JOB TITLE: A PERFECT BRIDE
CHARLES
“Is Charles Hawthorne going to stay single forever?”
“Will the Hawthorne family line come to an end with him?”
“Is this the end of an era for the founding family of Cherrywood?”
Jimmy Garcia, the head of PR at Hawthorne Holdings slams his iPad onto the table with so much force that I’m shocked the screen is still intact. Spanish curses fly under his breath as he slides a plastic file across the surface. I don’t need to glance at its contents to know what it holds.
Until a few months back, I had my suspicions that Jimmy was just making up stuff to either get a rise out of me or, worse, to manipulate me into becoming a PR puppet for the cameras. But that man has a sharper nose than a K-9 recruit’s when it comes to sniffing out doubts. Now, every time he visits me, he’s carrying a barrage of newspaper gossip-column clippings, which is enough ammunition he needs to blow up my day.
There are bigger problems in this world, yet they are after my personal life?
“Are you still not going to say anything?” Jimmy’s face is flushed, his receding hairline growing every time we meet.
I feel for the man. I really do.
If I were him, working for me, I would have resigned already.