The Worst Best Man(87)

“Worse,” Aiden said, fighting the pain that bloomed behind his eyes. Worthington Financial, an accounting consulting firm, hadn’t taken his CIO candidate search criteria seriously and had presented him with the same old, white guys. It had pissed him off enough that Aiden pulled a team off of the sale they were neck-deep in so they could dissect the corporate structure.

With a little digging and some precisely applied pressure, Aiden discovered a rotting culture of harassment and misogynistic behavior. He’d fired seven of the company’s top managers within half an hour. With the newly departeds’ threats of lawsuits still echoing in his ears, Aiden had called a company-wide meeting and announced an immediate restructuring. Two administrative assistants had burst into tears while thanking him. And a junior vice president—exactly the kind of person he wanted for chief information officer—rescinded the resignation that she’d tendered two days ago.

He ordered an independent HR consultant into the wreckage to deal with the internal fallout and warned Kilbourn Holdings lawyers that there was a situation.

“Sacked them all?” Oscar asked. The man loved two things in life. His partner Lewis and juicy corporate gossip.

“Most of them.” Aiden noted the time on his watch. His two afternoon meetings had been juggled into a hasty conference in the car and a late dinner, during which his headache prevented him from eating anything. “It’s late. You should go before Lewis comes looking for you.”

“I’m meeting him for drinks to celebrate another week of his mother not moving in with us.” Oscar pulled his coat from the rack and slid into it. “Don’t work too late,” he reminded Aiden. “I’m sure there’s a Brooklyn girl waiting for you somewhere.”

Just the thought of Frankie lifted Aiden’s spirits. She had a catering gig tonight. One of her last, so they wouldn’t see each other. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t call her.

“Go home, Oscar,” he said again. “And first thing in the morning, you can help start the search for all new senior management. Maybe we can cherry-pick from our own backyard first.”

“Of course. I’ll also be happy to make sure the ones you sacked are unemployable anywhere else.”

“You’re a mean Frenchman, aren’t you?” Aiden said, with a weak smile.

“The meanest.”

Aiden watched Oscar saunter toward the elevators. The rest of the offices were dark. It was nearly nine, and Aiden still had a few hours of work to catch up on. If he could get ahead of the headache… and stop thinking about the events of the day.

Two of the men had cried when he’d pulled the trigger. None were innocent, but there was something unsatisfying about punishing someone who felt like a victim.

“I have two kids in college,” one had pleaded.

“Then you shouldn’t have ordered HR to ignore the complaints against you and your colleagues,” Aiden had said briskly. He was efficient and cold. Merciless. It was more intimidating that way when he treated people like gnats who mattered too little to bother getting angry over.

On the inside, he was anything but cold. These men had created a work environment so hostile that it was a wonder they had any employees left.

It was the right decision. Perhaps a bit abrupt, but it would set the tone for the coming year. They were a new acquisition, and this was the fastest way to send the message that Kilbourn Holdings would not tolerate anything less than equality, anything other than fairness.

Having to defend his decision to his father on the phone hadn’t helped.

Ferris agreed that “something” should have been done, just not now and certainly not by making such a statement. “We’re already dealing with enough transition,” he’d argued. “I don’t see why you would have taken on a project of this magnitude that will only take your attention away from more important things.”

In other words, Ferris felt like the women should have toughed it out a little longer, at least until he was on his boat smoking a cigar without a care in sight.

Aiden not-so-respectfully disagreed and said as much.

He wanted to go home. Scratch that. He wanted to go to Franchesca’s and lay next to her in bed until everything felt right again.

“Well, if it isn’t my all-work-and-no-play brother,” Elliot said snidely from Aiden’s doorway.

And just like that, Aiden’s night got worse.

“Look who stopped avoiding my calls.” Since their father had made his decision to step down, Aiden had been trying to schedule a meeting with Elliot. And, until tonight, his half-brother had been avoiding him.

He was dressed for going out. A blazer with velvet lapels and a jaunty plaid bow tie. He looked like an overindulged idiot.

Elliot brushed a speck of lint from his shoulder. “Sorry, boss. I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what, exactly?” Ferris had allowed Elliot to hold a title and kept an office available to him should his brother show any signs of interest in the business.

Elliot slunk into the chair in front of Aiden’s desk and propped his shiny loafers on the surface. “A little of this. A little of that.”

“Let’s cut to the chase. From now on, you’re required to be a contributing member of this family, of this business.”

Elliot sneered at him. “You want more work out of me? I want a bigger office and an assistant. I want to have a say in operations.”