Chapter 6 - The Reorganization of Seabrook Logistics
Back in Charleston, the Monday morning sun brought no warmth to the glass towers of Seabrook Logistics.
By 8:00 AM, the executive boardroom on the top floor was packed to capacity, but the atmosphere was that of a tribunal rather than a corporate briefing.
Daniel Mercer sat at the head of the long mahogany table, flanked by three federal bankruptcy attorneys and the chief operating officer.
The double doors swung open, and Grant walked in.
He looked ten years older. His suit was wrinkled, his hair uncombed, his eyes bloodshot from a night spent staring at the ceiling of his empty townhouse. He took his usual seat near the head of the table, but the vice-presidential plaque bearing his name had been removed.
In its place sat a blank silver nameplate.
"Where is my chair?" Grant demanded, his voice cracking slightly as he looked around the room at the twelve senior executives who wouldn't meet his eyes.
Daniel did not look up from the portfolio spread across his desk.
"Your chair is gone, Grant," Daniel said, his voice flat as an open grave. "Just like your executive authority, your stock options, and your equity share in this company."
"You can't do that!" Grant shouted, slamming his fist onto the wood. "I have a legal right to my father's succession! The board ratified my appointment last quarter!"
"The board ratified the appointment of an executive who possessed a fiduciary duty to protect this company’s assets," Daniel replied, looking up slowly, his gray eyes pinning his son to the leather chair. "Instead, you mortgaged our primary distribution hubs to finance a private residence for your mistress, and you alienated the majority shareholder who controls the underlying real estate."
Daniel tossed a certified legal document across the table. It slid across the polished wood and stopped right against Grant’s knuckles.
NOTICE OF DEFAULT AND IMMEDIATE REPOSSESSION.
ISSUED BY: BENNETT ATLANTIC HOLDINGS (LONDON).
AUTHORIZED REPRESENTATIVE: CLAIRE BENNETT, CEO.
Grant stared at the name printed in bold, uncompromising black ink at the bottom of the page.
Claire Bennett.
Not Claire Mercer.
She had dropped his name the moment she signed the divorce decree at midnight on Saturday.
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"She... she's taking everything?" Grant whispered, the last vestige of his bravado completely incinerated.
"She isn't taking anything, Grant," Daniel said quietly. "She is simply reclaiming what her family built before you ever learned how to spell logistics. You thought you married a quiet girl from a small town who would look good on your arm while you climbed a ladder. You didn't realize she owned the mountain."
