When I learned my parents gave the family business to my sister, I stopped working 80our weeks for free.
Dad said, “Paul is better with people.”
Mom added, “You can still help from behind the scenes.”
A week later, Dad called panicked about losing our biggest client.
I just said, “Let Paula handle it. She’s the heir, right?”
Within a month, three major contracts fell through, and they were begging me to come back.
I replied.
The pen hovered over the document, my father’s signant ring glinting under the office lights.
I watched, frozen in place, as he signed his name with a flourish, the same dramatic signature I’d seen on countless contracts over the years.
My mother stood beside him, her hand resting on my sister Paula’s shoulder.
The pride in her eyes was unmistakable.
“That’s it, then,” Dad said, sliding the papers across the polished mahogany table toward our family attorney, Richard.
“Official as of today.”
I stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, trying to make sense of what was happening.
For 12 years, I’d worked in the family business, Matthews Commercial Construction.
I started as a laborer during summer breaks when I was 20, learned estimating in college, and eventually became the operations manager after graduating with my engineering degree.
While Paula had been living her life in New York, pursuing a marketing career, and showing up for the occasional holiday, I’d been here building, growing, sacrificing.
“Mark,” my father’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Did you hear what I said?”
I blinked, focusing on the three faces now turned toward me.
“Sorry, what?” I said.
“This doesn’t change your position with the company.
You’ll still be operations manager.”
Dad’s tone was reassuring, as if he was doing me a favor.
“Paula will be taking over as CEO when I retire next year, but your role is secure.”
My sister smiled at me, her expression a mixture of sympathy and triumph.
At 32, she was two years younger than me, but carried herself with the confidence of someone who’d just been handed the keys to the kingdom, which I supposed she had.
“Mark,” she said, her voice soft with practiced compassion.
“I hope you know how much I value your expertise. I couldn’t do this without you.”
I stared at her, wondering if she actually believed that.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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