“Why don’t we go to my apartment so we can talk about the details? I have draft papers ready to print out for your review,” Vivienne said.
Solomon had been holding her left hand through most of the meal. Now he raised it, kissing her knuckles.
Edmund sucked in an outraged breath grabbing her right shoulder. “You didn’t.”
Vivienne’s stomach clenched. “Edmund?”
“You would not have done something like that to me. You would not have gotten married without me.” Edmund stared accusingly at her left hand. An ultra-thin gold band resided on her ring finger, so slender that it was easy to overlook.
Vivienne shared a soft look with her husband. The word felt both foreign and right. “We got married in Miami yesterday. It was the fastest option. Everywhere else required days of notice and preparation.” She’d been bitterly disappointed to learn that the captain of Nerio’s ship hadn’t been able to marry them.
“No,” Edmund said shortly. “It did not happen. You did not get married without me. I refuse to accept it.”
Solomon squeezed her hand. “If you don’t approve, then go fuc—”
“For god’s sake, Vivienne, what were you wearing?”
Vivienne relaxed, even as she tried to look contrite. “If it makes you feel better, we can have a ceremony here in a few weeks.”
“Eight months. It will take six for the dress.”
“Four months, and we have it at Maison Delphine.”
“Seven months and you will be married at Château Rossolina, of course. My God, woman, where is your sense of occasion?”
“Do I get a say in this?” Solomon asked.
“No,” Edmund said.
“Is this what you wanted to talk to us about?” Victor asked.
Vivienne didn’t really care when or where they had a second ceremony. She’d married him in a judge’s office in Miami, Florida, neither of them dressed for the occasion, and with no witnesses of their own.
It had been perfect.
She’d have an elaborate ceremony because Edmund would want to make her dress, because probably Solomon’s mother would care. She’d have it so photographic evidence that they’d made it, that they’d grown up enough to make it through everything life had thrown at them, could be splashed across the front page of gossip sites.
Vivienne rose, and the men followed suit. “We have much to discuss.”
As they walked out of the restaurant, Solomon leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You can still change your mind.”
“About marrying you?”
He pulled her against his side. “Oh no, you’re mine now.”
She smiled. “I don’t want to change my mind, about any of it.”
The next morning they met at Maison Delphine. Her family members arrived in fits and starts. She’d called the meeting for ten a.m., but Edmund and Victor arrived well before then, Victor looking serious, but happy, Edmund anxious.
Her mother arrived around nine. She’d driven in with Uncle Alain. Alain looked at Solomon with surprise, and no small amount of distaste.
Vivienne pulled her mother aside. They’d never been particularly close, but she was, after all, her mother. Vivienne held up her left hand, then quietly assured her mother that she was both happy and very sure about her decision to marry.
By the time they walked back into the meeting room, the final two attendees, Tempeste and Gerard had arrived. They were glaring daggers at Alain, having never forgiven him for the merger of the companies, despite repeated explanations that, from a business perspective, it made sense.
The current plan, the one she was about to explain, also made sense, and a third of the room—Edmund and Victor—were already on board, yet as she walked to the head of the table, Vivienne’s palms were damp.
She took her place, staring down the long conference table. Solomon was sitting at the other end, arms folded, but his eyes were soft when he looked at her. Suddenly, she was eager to get this done, eager to move on.
The six guests she called to this meeting had arranged themselves along family lines.
Her mother and Alain—the Deschamps—sat on her left, while Edmund, Victor and their parents, Tempest and Gerard, sat on her right.
“The purpose of this meeting is to give you advance notice of the structural reorganization of CRD Beauvalot.” Vivienne was proud of how calm and cool her voice was.
“What do you mean?” Gerard snarled, slapping his hands on the table. As always he responded aggressively.
“No reorganization is necessary,” Alain said coolly. Though they’d never talked about it, Vivienne was sure that he had to harbor resentment over the fact that the merger had been his idea, and by right he should be the CEO over both companies, rather than the president of only the winery.
“For you, perhaps there is not. However, I am unwilling to continue as CEO.”
She let that statement hang. Tempeste glared at Solomon, Gerard looked stunned, but then pleased—surely he didn’t think he would be named CEO in her place? The man’s hubris was staggering. Alain also glanced at Solomon, though without malice, and her mother…
Her mother smiled proudly.
She hadn’t even known she wanted that approval, that part of her had been waiting for her mother, who had always seemed so content with her role within the family she’d married into, to be okay with Vivienne’s decision. She hadn’t known she wanted it, but now that she had it, something inside Vivienne relaxed.
She gave them another moment to absorb, then went on. “I am stepping back from day-to-day operations, and going forward I will hold the position of president of the new board of directors.”
“Unnecessary,” Alain barked.
“It is necessary. I will repeat myself—I am unwilling to continue as CEO.”
“Then someone else will do it,” Gerard asserted.
Alain snorted. “You?”
“If you hadn’t lied and made me sign—”
“If you weren’t so stupid it—”
Solomon rose, then banged one fist on the table like a gavel. It had the desired effect of shutting everyone up. Vivienne went on as if there hadn’t been an interruption.
“There will be seven members on the board. Myself, and three people from Deschamps, three from Beauvalot. The lead executive of each business will hold one of those spots. Alain, as CEO of Château Rossolina Deschamps, one spot is yours.”
“I am not the CEO, I am the president of the company.”
“We’re changing that.” Vivienne looked at her mother. “You are now CFO, and on the same level with the same power, as the CEO.”
Alain stiffened, “You cannot—”
“If she were on the board, and still your subordinate, she would be obliged to vote with you.” Without giving that side more time to protest, Vivienne turned her attention to the Beauvalots. “From now on, Victor will serve as CEO of Beauvalot Fashion, and sit on the board. As the creative director, Edmund takes the second spot. Gerard, you will have the board member third spot.”
“And what of me?” Tempeste demanded. “I am the only one with no vote? I am a Beauvalot by blood!”
“You will serve as an ad hoc board member, and have deciding vote in case of a tie. Your ad hoc position gives you the right to attend all meetings, and speak at those meetings.”
Tempeste look mollified. It wouldn’t take her long to figure out that with seven voting members, a tie was impossible. Hopefully her aunt wouldn’t realize that until after Vivienne was not only out of this room, but off the continent.
“Who is the last member?” Alain asked. “There are only two people from Deschamps. I would like to nominate—”
“As of right now, and by design, the board of directors is limited to family. It’s why the CFO of Beauvalot isn’t included, when the CFO of Deschamps is.” Vivienne met each person’s gaze in turn. “The final member of the board, representing Deschamps for the sake of equality, is Solomon Carter.”
Everyone
at the table, even Victor and Edmund, who’d known this was coming, twisted to look at Solomon. He grinned and waved.
“He’s not—” Tempeste started.
“As my husband, he is family.” Vivienne couldn’t help but smile as everyone swiveled back to her, shock evident on Alain, Tempeste, and Gerard’s faces.
“Board meetings will take place once a month, here at Maison Delphine,” Vivienne went on. “All members are expected to attend in person. Our first order of business will be to finalize the scope of duties for the board. Between now and then I will be handing off day-to-day decision making strategies to Victor and Alain.”
She thought they’d made it, that the hard part was over, but Gerard piped up at that point. “You’ve made him your enforcer.”
Vivienne found it was easy to remain calm, to see Gerard’s outburst for what it was, a tantrum. “No, he is my strength. He reminds me of who I am. Makes me better than myself.”
“Brava!” Edmund cheered.
Solomon chuckled.
Tempeste’s lips were quivering. “I see what you’ve done. You’ve kept all the power but expect my son to do the work.”
“Your sons are more than capable, and I am under no illusions as to how much work this will be.” She gestured to the conference table. “I gave years to this family. I will not be made to feel ashamed for taking back my life.”
“Brava,” Edmund exclaimed again, with even more feeling.
“I love you all,” Vivienne said, more softly than she’d been speaking before. “And I love what we do. Who we are. I would not sacrifice that, but I also won’t sacrifice myself.”
She glanced up and Solomon rose from his chair, coming around to her end of the table. He held out his arm, and Vivienne slipped her fingers around his elbow. She smiled at her family. “There are packets for each of you. I’ve engaged the services of a management consulting firm to aid the transition, once we agree upon a date. Take your time; we’ll meet again in a month to finalize the changes. Until then, Alain and Victor have full decision making power, as I’ll technically be on a leave of absence.”
Together she and Solomon started walking towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Alain asked, tone more curious than accusatory.
Vivienne looked back over her shoulder without slowing her steps, then back to Solomon. “I’m going home.”
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About the Author
Lila Dubois is a multi-published, bestselling author of erotic, paranormal and fantasy romance. Her books have been nominated for many awards including RT Book Reviews Erotic Novella for Undone Rebel and the Golden Flogger. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently. Lila lives in California with her own Irish Farm Boy and loves receiving email from readers.
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Also by Lila Dubois
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The San Francisco Trilogy
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Primal Passion
Scorching Desire
After Burn (free short story)
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Hidden Devotion
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Standalone Shifter Romance
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