Page 89 of Cru's Crush
I wriggled from his grasp. “Back to the Viejos.”
“I’ll let them tell you. But after they do, if things are the way I said, will you fly home with Press and me?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“There she is,” said Martin when we walked out of the sunroom to where they were gathered. He looked at Beau. “Did you tell her?”
He nodded. “She knows, but since she speaks fluent Spanish, she keeps referring to you as the old guys instead of the Viejos.”
“I do not.” I punched his arm and looked around the room at those gathered, happy to see Tryst was here, along with Hewitt Ridge and George Norman.I recognized many of the others, but since, as Beau had said, I’d met some only once in my life, I couldn’t recall all their names. There was one other, closer to my age, who looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. My mind was already reeling.
“Did Beau tell you what we learned about Steve Dorian?” Hewitt asked.
“I thought I’d let you tell her.”
“Good. Well, as it turns out, the Dorians are related to the family who owns another of Australia’s wine conglomerates—the Palmer Group.”
I recognized the name. The company was well known, not just in Australia but around the world. Their organization rivaled Cullen House in both size and annual sales.
“How did he get on our board?” I asked.
“He went to great pains to conceal the affiliation,” said Martin.
“I have no doubt his plan was to figure out a way to sabotage Cullen House after he succeeded in getting me, Hewitt, and Martin off the board,” said my father. “Then undervalue it and sell it to the Palmer Group.”
“Is that legal?” I asked.
“Not in the slightest,” said one of the other men. “By the way, Daphne, I’m Michael Oliver, if you don’t recognize me.”
“Sorry. I do. I’m just struggling with remembering all your names.”
Hewitt nudged Martin. “I told you we should wear badges.”
Beau’s father rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, Michael.”
“Several years ago, Australia passed what’s called the EFI Act, which criminalized corporate espionage. Penalties can result in prison time as well as millions of dollars in damages.”
“What we’re working on now is finding links between the board members Dorian appointed and the Palmer Group,” said Martin. “Even if we’re unable to, once he’s gone, it’s likely they’ll resign anyway.”
The younger man stepped forward. “Daphne, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m your cousin, err, Noah Cullen. I go by NC to avoid confusion.”
I did remember my father’s brother’s son—who’d been named for my dad like Hewitt Ridge’s oldest son had—but it had been years since I last saw him.
“I’ve been working for Cullen House since I graduated from university.”
“NC has been working undercover, if you will, to gather information about the board members Dorian appointed,” said Martin.
Part of me wondered why I hadn’t been informed prior to now, and another part was just happy to know there were others at Cullen House in my father’s corner.
My eyes scrunched. “What’s the next step?”
My father got up and, with the help of a walker, crossed the room and stood in front of me. “I love you with all my heart, Daphne. Your mother and I have appreciated everything you’ve done for us—for me, in particular—but it’s time for you to go home.”
My eyes filled with tears, and I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder. “I don’t know where that is anymore,” I whispered.
“Of course you do.”
I shook my head. “What if he no longer wants me?”
