A Time To Give

Cassidy Industries made instrumentation for utility companies; the business had gotten in financial trouble because Ben’s products had been eroded by software and digital advancements. He’d extended his bank credit and mortgaged his personal assets to keep the company afloat. Finally he’d needed an investor and had made the poor choice of Mackenzie Enterprises.

Negotiations had gone well, but after the honeymoon was over, Mackenzie had started making stipulations on his several-million-dollar loan. Their business relationship had become heated, unfriendly, then downright hostile. In the end, Ben had been forced to agree to the two things that caused him to lose the company: that Cassidy Industries receive the Rockford Gas & Electric contracts, which were in the process of being approved by the utility company’s officers, and that the patent on fuel-cell technology, which Ben had developed to take the business to a new level, had to come through within six months. He still remembered that heart-stopping day he’d discovered the contracts had been delayed indefinitely. At that time, the patent had been pending.

Trey’s eyes narrowed. “My private investigator thinks maybe Mackenzie paid off the contracts guy at the utility company. He seems to have had an unexpected windfall right as Mackenzie began his pursuit of your business. If I can find a connection between this guy and expenditures Mackenzie made at the time, we’ll have something. But it’s tricky and may take a while. We’re also going to check to see if he did anything about the patent that didn’t come through until after you sold out.” That patent, worth gold now, belonged to Cassidy Industries, not Ben.

“Trey, I don’t want you spending money on a private investigator for me.”

Trey shook his head. “It’s not just for you. I want to know what I did wrong.”

“The only thing we did wrong was to fight fair.”

“Maybe not. In any case, I owe you.”

“Don’t start on that again.”

“I’ll start on that all I want. You hired me fresh out of law school. I became a moving force in the legal world of Rockford because of you.”

“At least my debacle didn’t hurt you too much.”

“It didn’t hurt me at all. Do you know how much I earn?” He swore. “Let me spend some of it trying to make sense of what happened.”

“You’re wasting your money.”

“No, I’m not.” Trey grabbed his arm. “Just promise me you’ll think about this. I won’t go any further until I hear from you. But at least return my calls. I hate leaving my girl in bed on Saturday morning to hunt you down.”

That got a chuckle out of Ben. Though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a girl in his bed on a weekend, he did recall it had felt damn good. “I promise I’ll think about it. Now get out of here.”

Trey nodded and headed the other way.

“Thompson?” Ben called out.

The lawyer looked over his shoulder, his brows raised.

“Thanks. I wish you wouldn’t do it, but I appreciate your…caring enough.”

Trey smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

As Ben trudged back to his job, he squelched the tiny bud of hope inside him. The fact that Trey always engendered this optimism was one of the reasons Ben didn’t want to see him. Nothing was going to come out of this newest development. If Trey could have stopped the takeover, he would have done it before.

The war was finished between Ben and Mackenzie. Even if Mackenzie had played dirty, the result was that Ben had lost everything. There was no changing it now.

“WHAT’S THIS ALL ABOUT, Dad?”

Emily’s father glanced up from his computer screen. He was a big man, with powerful shoulders. Despite his thick shock of gray hair, he kept himself fit for someone nearing sixty. His perpetual grimace softened somewhat when he saw her. “Good morning to you, too.”

She smiled. “Good morning.” She held up the FedEx package. “I received this request from Jacob Brill by messenger as soon as I got in. He wants information on the employees. Why?”

“I’m selling off Rockford Instruments.”

“What?”

“I’m selling. The stock’s up, the climate’s good. Gotta strike while the iron’s hot, girl.”

“Did you, at all, think to tell your vice president of human resources about this decision?”

Lazily he leaned back in his chair. She recognized the casual pose as one of his many tactics to disarm someone who confronted him. “I decided last Monday. I tried to call you that night, but you were out. I flew to Vegas on Tuesday and just got back.”

“I have dance class until ten on Mondays.”

His smile transformed his rough features, especially when she was the cause of it. “I remember when you started dancing. I thought you might be a ballerina.”

Grinning, she shook her head. “I’m not good enough for that.”

“Where were you before class?”

“I had dinner with friends.” Not exactly a lie. Her father would be furious if he knew she worked at Cassidy Place. Not only had he withdrawn all financial support of the soup kitchen when he’d taken over Cassidy Industries, canceling comp time for workers, too, but he had some grudge against the place that Emily didn’t understand. And a contempt for the previous owner that didn’t make sense.

Her father shrugged. “In any case, it’s time to unload this company.”

Emily tried to quell her pique and sank into one of the plush leather seats in front of his desk. “I’m not going to let you do this again.” Twice, he’d sold off companies without her knowledge, and had slashed jobs left and right. The last time, she’d threatened to leave Mackenzie Enterprises.

“All right. What do you want?”

“To save the jobs of the workers here.” Those who hadn’t gotten caught in the layoffs had stayed after Mackenzie Enterprises had taken over because they needed to make a living. But their loyalty had not transferred with them. It was obvious how much they hated the sterile environment her father had created, and how much they disliked him personally. Whereas Cassidy Industries had had a real family atmosphere and the employees had loved Benedict Cassidy. She wondered whatever had happened to him.

“It’ll take a good six months to put the word out, find a buyer, or buyers, complete the due diligence. The workers will get something else.”

“Buyers?”

“Yes. There might be more money in selling off the inventory, getting rid of this albatross of a building and offering that precious patent to the highest bidder.”

The patent for a product that Benedict Cassidy was brilliant enough to develop. “Oh, Dad, you’re going to dissolve Cassidy Industries?”

His face flushed. “It’s Rockford Instruments now.”

“But—”

“Here it comes.” Shaking his head, he sighed.

“At least try to keep the company intact.” She thought for a minute. “And look for a local buyer so the company isn’t moved out of Rockford. That way, the workers would be able to keep their jobs.”

“I don’t care about all that.”

No, of course not. He never did. But she did. “Wait a few months to see if you get a buyer for the whole company. If you can’t, then sell it off.”

“You always do this.”

“Yes, I do. It’s the only reason I’m working for you, Dad.”