Sweet Fortune

to weather the storm. He had expected nothing less when he had walked into Vincent's office. When it was all over, Benedict would calm down and agree to his plans.
    “You think you can handle David, huh? Well, what about his mother? Glenna's an iron maiden, pal. She's bitter and she's weird. There's no telling what she would do if she got her hands on David's shares.”
    “David's not a kid any longer. The very fact that he's opted for grad school is proof that he's willing to take a stand against his mother. She wanted him to stay here at Benedict.”
    “You're wrong. Giving a piece of Benedict to that side of the family would be inviting disaster. And what about Elizabeth? She's just a kid. Twelve years old, for Christ's sake. You can't go turning over a quarter of this company to a twelve-year-old kid. What if Connie remarries? The new guy might try to get involved in the company and he could use Elizabeth's shares to do it.”
    “You're her father, remember? You can retain control of her quarter until she comes of age. Or you can make Jessie the trustee until then.”
    “And then what? That's less than ten years away,” Benedict raged. “With the plans you've got, the firm will be three times the size it is now. Maybe bigger. Elizabeth will be dissecting rats' brains or something for a living. You want some ivory-tower research scientist trying to make business decisions for one-fourth of this outfit? She won't know what the hell she's doing.”
    “I have a hunch Elizabeth will be content to let Jessie guide her when it comes to making decisions for Benedict.”
    “Jessie? That's a joke. Jessie doesn't know beans about running this show either.”
    Hatch smiled faintly. “But Jessie will be married to me, remember? She'll let me make all the decisions for Benedict Fasteners. I'll be running the show, just like you planned all along.”
    “Except that half of the ownership will be in other hands. No, I won't have this company torn into little pieces, dammit.”
    “Not little pieces. Big pieces. Pieces which I will control either directly or indirectly.”
    “You can't be certain of retaining control of things if you've got three other owners involved. They could outvote you if they got together and decided to go in a different direction.”
    “There's a risk, I'll admit it. But I know your family, Vincent. The risk is a small one. I can deal with it.”
    “You don't know that, goddammit.” Benedict pounded the table once more and shot to his feet. “There's no way to be certain you can stay in command if you've got the company divided up into quarters.”
    “I'm willing to chance it.”
    “Well, I'm not,” Vincent shouted. “I've seen plenty of family-owned companies torn to shreds this way. It won't happen here.”
    Hatch looked down into his coffee. “You don't have a choice, Benedict.”
    “What the frigging hell does that mean? Of course I've got a choice. I say we don't split things up and that's final.”
    “Not if you want me to marry Jessie and run your company, it isn't.”
    Suddenly the office was silent. For a minute Vincent stared at Hatch, mouth agape. Then he sat down, clearly stunned.
    “Are you telling me you won't marry Jessie unless I agree to cut up Benedict Fasteners?” Vincent asked, as if trying to make certain he had understood.
    “I didn't say that. I'll marry her, all right. But I won't buy into Benedict and I won't stick around here to run it for you. I'll take Jessie and leave the state. We'll start over somewhere else. Oregon, maybe.”
    “Bullshit. I'll cut Jessie off without one red cent.”
    Hatch nodded. “Just as well. Because if you did go ahead and leave the company to her, I'd make sure she divided it up when she took possession.”
    “The hell you would,” Benedict said softly, too softly, his eyes shrewd and angry. “You're bluffing.”
    “Have I ever lied to you, Benedict? Either agree to portion the company out among David, Elizabeth, Jessie, and me or forget the whole deal. I'll take Jessie and leave town.”
    “She won't go with you, you sonofabitch.”
    This was the tricky part, Hatch knew. Now he was bluffing for all he was worth. Everything was riding on his poker-playing skills. His fingers tightened on the coffee cup. “She will, you know. She loves me.”
    “You make her nervous. She told me so herself.”
    “She'll still come with me, Benedict.”
    “Bullshit. Not if she knows you're walking away from Benedict Fasteners,”