Page 16

Sam

As a whirlwind of activity passes on the sidewalk behind me, I face the brass plaque on the street level that reads Sterling, Barnaby & Associates. It’s carved in an aristocratic font that practically screams a thousand dollars an hour.

Yep. Guess this is the place.

Crossing the shiny marble, the soles of my shoes echoing each step, I walk inside the private elevator and press the button for the top floor. With every floor I pass, the tension in my shoulders bunches tighter. By the twentieth, I’m staring at my own pale reflection in the polished steel doors, wondering if coming to New York was a mistake. I pull at the collar of my shirt, the top button unforgiving. By floor thirty, the sheer, towering intimidation of the firm’s reputation settles into my very bones. I dab at the sweat that has already started to accumulate at my temples.

Aaron Sterling isn’t just an estate attorney, he’s the kind of legal shark who dismantles multi-million-dollar trusts for breakfast. If anyone can find a way around Pop’s ironclad will, it’s him. But if he tells me I’m backed into a corner… then I really am out of options.

The elevator chimes with a haughty ding, and the doors slide open directly into the penthouse reception area. Wiping my brow once more, I push open the imposing mahogany doors to Mr. Sterling’s office. They’re heavier than they look. Or maybe it’s just the weight of what’s behind them.

Sterling was my grandfather’s right-hand man for forty years. He’s a man who measures his words in billable hours and carries the kind of integrity my mother couldn’t have bought with a billion-dollar bribe.

“Sit down, Samuel,” Sterling says, not looking up from a thick manila folder. He doesn’t stand to greet me with an affectionate ‘Good to see you’ or ‘How have you been?’ There are no reveries about my grandfather’s dreams for me.

I sink into the leather chair. The rich scent of polished leather and expensive cigars fills my lungs. My head swivels back and forth, taking it in. Do they intentionally furnish this place with oversized chairs to intimidate you? Because it’s working. I feel like a kid again, caught stealing grapes from the north field. I adjust my tie until his words startle me, and I cease fidgeting.

“I’ve reviewed the latest filings for Sutter Creek,” he continues, finally looking over his spectacles. “Your parents were… thorough in their negligence.”

If that isn’t the understatement of the century.

The reading of my grandfather’s will had widened the crevice between us to the size of the Grand Canyon. Yet, I tried to remain in contact, if nothing more than to keep abreast of their actions. This merely gave me a ringside seat to their destruction, and to some degree, my own. If I’d only grown to be half the man my brother was, I wouldn’t have spiraled the way I had. I can blame my mother all I want, but if I’d channeled my frustration into hard work instead of booze and women, maybe this could’ve been prevented.

“I’ll be honest. I haven’t looked into the state of Sutter Creek in years. I didn’t realize how deep the debt went,” he adds.

I lean forward, my jaw tight. “I know the mess I’m in, Mr. Sterling. I’m the CEO of a sinking ship. I just need to know if there is a life raft and how big it might be.”

He flips a page in the trust document, his face solemn. “Your grandfather made it clear he was disappointed in your mother and father’s self-centered lifestyles. He split ownership evenly between you and Sebastian, but he made you the CEO. He hoped that giving you the reins would force you to grow into the man he knew you could be.”

“He also made sure I didn’t have access to the funds until I turned forty,” I mutter. And given I have three and a half years until I reach that milestone, Sutter Creek will be dust by then.

Readjusting myself in my seat, I place my palms flat on the armrests and look directly at Mr. Sterling. “Please don’t mistake what I’m saying. I loved Pop more than anyone. He was a god among men. But through an immature series of events, I allowed myself to follow in my parents’ footsteps instead of digging into the hard work he would’ve wanted.” I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants legs and try to push on. I need him to understand. “Not just at the vineyard, but here.” I thumb myself in the chest. “But I’m ready. I’ve never been more ready for anything. I only want the opportunity to prove to him he was right about me.”

Mr. Sterling places the documents on the desk in front of him, giving me a stern look. “I’m glad to hear that, Samuel. And you’re right about your grandfather. Peter Burke was one of the best men I’ve ever known. He tried desperately to indulge your mother, rather than cut her off like I recommended because he wanted to ensure she remained in his life. After losing your grandmother so young, maintaining a family bond was important to him. But it cost him more than money. Watching her turn into the soulless, spoiled woman she became was hard enough. But seeing the impact on you was worse.”

I hang my head in shame. Looking back on how my grandfather must’ve seen me makes my chest ache. I’d had such an idyllic childhood with him. I’d never wanted for anything. Then my ego took a hit. My mother constantly comparing me to Sebastian and that asshole, Chad, from high school. It was a bar too high to reach, so I gave up trying. Why not live a frivolous life? No one expected more from me anyway.

Except Pop.

“Hindsight is 20/20, Mr. Sterling. I’d give anything if I’d been a better man back then. But I can only accept my mistakes and try to do better going forward. I’m just not sure I can manage to keep Sutter Creek afloat for four more years. It’s falling apart at the seams. Waiting until I’m forty to access funds that could salvage our business may be too little, too late.”

He slides off his glasses, placing them on his desk. “Not exactly,” he counters, his voice dry. “He instructed me not to mention the details of the trust to anyone except you, and only when you had demonstrated that the vineyard was still a viable business. Which, despite your clowning around during school and beyond, you’ve somehow managed to do.”

I cringe.

“Barely.”

He slides a sheet of paper across the desk. The highlighted numbers are staggering. “The stipulations are ironclad, Sam. If life for you remains as it is now, you inherit a total of twenty-five million of your two-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar trust.”

I’m sorry, what?

Did he just say two-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar trust fund? Hell, even the twenty-five million part is far more than I expected.

“But not until you are forty. At that time, another twenty-five million each will be distributed to your mother and Sebastian. Since your father has passed, his portion is already earmarked for your mother. Based on the number of calls this office receives from her attorneys, I’m quite certain she’s aware of this and is champing at the bit to get her hands on it.”

I don’t doubt it. But I’ll try to remain professional and keep my opinions to myself.

“The remainder will be donated to a variety of charitable organizations he has designated.”