His Illegitimate Heir by Sarah M. Anderson Read Free Book Online

racial heritages.
    Murmurs continued to rumble around the room, like thunder before a storm. Zeb waited. He wasn’t going to ask a second time, because that would denote weakness and he was never weak.
    â€œDoes Chadwick know what you’re doing?”
    Zeb didn’t see who asked the question, but from the voice, he guessed it was one of the older people in the room. Maybe even someone who had once worked not only for Chadwick but for Hardwick, as well. “He will shortly. At this time, Chadwick is a competitor. I wish him well, as I’m sure we all do, but he’s not coming back. This is my company now. Not only do I want to get us back to where we were when he was in charge of things, but I want to get us ahead of where we were. I’ll be laying out the details at the press conference, but I promise you this. We will have new beers,” he said, nodding to Casey, “and new marketing strategies, thanks to Daniel and his extensive experience.”
    He could tell he didn’t have them. The ones standing were shuffling their feet and the ones sitting were looking anywhere but at him. If this had been a normal business negotiation, he’d have let the silence stretch. But it wasn’t. “This was once a great place to work and I want to make it that place again. As I discussed with some of you, I’ve lifted the hiring freeze. The bottom line is and will continue to be important, but so is the beer.”
    An older man in the back stepped forward. “The last guy tried to run us into the ground.”
    â€œThe last guy wasn’t a Beaumont,” Zeb shot back. He could see the doubt in their eyes. He didn’t look the part that he was trying to sell them on.
    Then Casey stood, acting far more respectable—and respectful—than the last time he had seen her. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I just want to make beer. And if you say we’re going to keep making beer, then I’m in.”
    Zeb acknowledged her with a nod of his head and looked around this room. He’d wager that there’d be one or two resignations on his desk by Monday morning. Maybe more. But Casey fixed them with a stern look and most of his employees stood up.
    â€œAll right,” the older man who had spoken earlier repeated. Zeb was going to have to learn his name soon, because he clearly commanded a great deal of respect. “What do we have to do?”
    â€œDaniel has arranged this press conference. Think of it as a political rally.” Which was what Daniel knew best. The similarities were not coincidences. “I’d like everyone to look supportive and encouraging of the new plan.”
    â€œTry to smile,” Daniel said, and Zeb saw nearly everyone jump in surprise. It was the first time Daniel had spoken. “I’m going to line you up and then we’re going to walk out onto the front steps of the building. I’m going to group you accordingly. You are all the face of the Beaumont Brewery, each and every one of you. Try to remember that when the cameras are rolling.”
    Spoken like a true political consultant.
    â€œMr. Richards,” Delores said, poking her head in the room, “it’s almost time.”
    Daniel began arranging everyone in line as he wanted them and people went along with it. Zeb went back to his private bathroom to splash water on his face. Did he have enough support to put on a good show?
    Probably.
    He stared at the mirror. He was a Beaumont. For almost his entire life, that fact had been a secret that only three people knew—him and his parents. If his mother had so much as breathed a word about his true parentage, Hardwick would’ve come after her with pitchforks and torches. He would’ve burned her to the ground.
    But Hardwick was dead and Zeb no longer had to keep his father’s secrets. Now the whole world was going to know who he really was.
    He walked out to find one person still in