“Are you?” Cal asked.
“Am I what? Doing stuff I shouldn’t do?”
Cal grimaced. “I doubt they think they could catch you doing something inappropriate. What I was asking was if you’re planning to get rid of a few board members.”
“Yes. Steven’s mother is on the board. His. Mother.” Bronwyn’s frustration was palpable. “She’s refused to acknowledge her son’s crimes and refuses to step down. We have a pretty weird setup when it comes to our board, but there are guidelines and requirements of which she’s in breach.”
“What are the requirements?” Meredith asked.
“You have to be family by blood or marriage. Multiple family members can work in the business at different levels, but no more than one member of an immediate family group can be on the board at any one time. So going back to Steven—his dad served for several years, but then he rotated off and his wife filled his spot.”
“Okay. But what about business requirements, financial skills, that kind of thing?”
Bronwyn gave Meredith a flat look.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. There are no requirements beyond faithfully attending the board meetings. This means they roll up in there with random and ludicrous requests that are beyond the scope of their responsibility or authority. Sometimes they make no sense at all. Once in a while, there’s good, solid discussion, but usually, it’s a disaster.”
“So they have to be family, and they have to show up. What else?” Cal asked.
“There’s a morality clause. My grandfather put it in, and no one ever bothered to take it out. If I can prove”—Bronwyn tapped the table with her finger—“and I mean beyond a shadow of a doubt that a member of the immediate family group has committed a crime, I can oust them. And Steven is guilty of kidnapping, drug trafficking, and attempted murder. Everyone knows he’s guilty as sin. But there’s that pesky ‘innocent until proven guilty’ aspect of the case that’s been keeping me in check. The minute he’s found guilty in a court of law, his mother is off the board. And if I can figure out how to do it before then, I will. They know that.”
“So you can’t get rid of them unless they’re convicted of a crime in a court of law?” Meredith shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not much of a morality clause. There’s plenty of stuff a person could do that is immoral that would never get them convicted of a crime.”
Bronwyn glanced at Mo for the briefest moment before she fixed her gaze on a point somewhere behind Cal. “I can also oust them for any involvement with a guest that is not of a”—she made air quotes—“professional nature. And yes, since that’s the elephant in the room, that clause was put in because of me. My father hadit added. Basically, if anyone in the family has a tryst with a guest, they and their family unit lose their spot on the board. They don’t lose their job, but they don’t get to be part of the decision-making process.”
Mo tried not to react, but heat flared down his spine. “Does anyone else think Bronwyn’s dad is a real piece of work?”
Meredith and Cal raised their hands. Bronwyn huffed and raised her hand as well.
“Just checking.” Mo had never liked Bronwyn’s dad. He would never like him, but he did seem to have some kind of control over Bronwyn that made Mo’s skin crawl. At least she acknowledged that the man was a jerk.
“Was your father putting that clause in some kind of power play?” Cal asked.
“I think he did it to embarrass me. He’s never taken any responsibility for what happened. Don’t get me wrong. I did it. It’s on me. I’m the one who ran off with an older man.”
“Excuse me.” Meredith reached over and grabbed Bronwyn’s hand. “As previously discussed, you were sixteen, and he was a predator.”
“As previously discussed, I was sixteen, not six. I’m not free of culpability here. He turned my head. I let him turn it.”
Mo wasn’t sure how long he could stay in this room and listen to them talk about this. It was a raw, open wound, and he wasn’t sure it would ever heal. He caught Cal’s eye and saw the understanding there.
Cal cleared his throat. “How does the part where Steven sold drugs to guests not count as involvement with a guest?”
Bronwyn waved her hand back and forth. “It’s a gray area. But he isn’t the one on the board. And his mother is dug in and has some supporters who think that she shouldn’t be booted out because of her son’s actions. My father thinks she should be kickedto the curb. That is one subject where we’re in full agreement, and I have no doubt I have his support. He wants her gone.”
“Does he want you gone as well?” Cal looked as confused as Mo felt.
“No. Well, I don’t think so. My father is a complicated man. He doesn’t want to be on the board, but he would never give up our family’s place on it. He doesn’t want me ever to stop paying for the shame I brought to our family, but he wants to tell everyone how proud he is of his phenomenal daughter who has”—here she put on a lofty tone with a horrible British accent—“taken The Haven to new heights.” She dropped the tone. “Every now and then, he mentions that he’d appreciate it if I married and provided him with grandchildren.” Mo clenched his jaw. “But he doesn’t want me to be a stay-at-home mom.”
Mo tried to ignore the image that sprang into his mind—Bronwyn holding a little boy with her brown skin and dark hair and big blue eyes and...
This was not going to work. He couldn’t stand to be around her and not ... not ... he didn’t know what. But until she was willing to forgive him and move on...
He needed to leave. Soon. He didn’t want to be a jerk. He’d spent a lot of time in prayer and counseling so that he wouldn’t react badly in situations like this, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on.
“My dad is a conundrum, but I don’t think he wants me to step down. And he wouldn’t condone anyone harming me physically.”
