LITMIR.BIZ

       Two

      Trinity tried not to be alarmed by the number of people seated around the table at the emergency board meeting of Hyatt Heights, Inc. It looked like a world peace negotiation instead of a business meeting.

      There were the lawyers: stone-faced as they set up their laptops. There were the businessmen: some familiar and friendly faces, some not so much. Then there were Richard and his wife, Patricia, whose faces had never been friendly in all the years she’d known them.

      They’d never pretended to love Michael, though he was their only nephew. Instead they’d spent all their time complaining to him about Hyatt Heights losing money and the waste of running Maison de Jardin. The home for abused women and children had become Michael’s life passion after his parents had been killed in a car accident in his midtwenties.

      That was when Michael’s unlikely friendship with Trinity had started. They’d both been dealing with the repercussions of losing their families, though in different ways. Trinity as a victim of violence who found shelter with her mother at Maison de Jardin. Michael as the rescuer who took them in and gave them hope and a future. It had led to a lifetime connection that had shaped her entire world.

      Trinity forced her thoughts back to the present, rather than let herself get lost in the bittersweet memories of her best friend. Despite the comfort they gave her, she somehow knew she needed all her focus on the here and now. People didn’t just call an emergency board meeting for any old reason, right?

      Those darn posts… They had to have something to do with it.

      “Doing okay, Trinity?” Bill LeBlanc asked from her right side.

      She gave him a small smile, grateful to have the one other person who had known her husband as well as she had by her side through all of this. An old-fashioned Southern lawyer in his ever-present vest and bowtie, Bill looked right at home amid the arched windows and wainscoting of the boardroom at Hyatt House, the private mansion from which Michael Hyatt had run his business and charitable foundation. Bill’s only regret was that, as Michael’s lawyer, he hadn’t been able to finalize the will before Michael’s death. But he was doing all that he could to help Trinity honor his client and friend’s wishes.

      “I feel completely unprepared,” she said low, not wanting anyone else in the room to overhear. There were a few people here who would jump on any weakness like sharks scenting blood in the water.

      What she needed was a strategy. Being perceived as a strong leader by the board of Hyatt Heights was essential. If she inherited Michael’s position, she would be CEO of the corporation, and a majority shareholder, but still needed the board on her side to put through the initiatives and decisions that could be supported by the other shareholders.

      An injunction had created a temporary board director to serve in Michael’s place during the court case, while Trinity still handled Michael’s other businesses and whatever tasks the temporary board director asked of her. So she and Richard were “auditioning” while the case was ongoing. If she didn’t prove her worth, Trinity could still lose the CEO position, though the shares would remain hers through inheritance.

      Which would make carrying out Michael’s wishes even harder. The two board meetings she’d attended since her husband’s death had included talking points and presentations and charts that Bill had briefed her on before they’d arrived.

      Not today. There’d been no preparation, no warnings. Trinity knew on an intellectual level that she needed to focus on getting through this without hinting how much she was out of her depth. She was a smart woman, but her crash course in billion-dollar businesses over the last two months had been steep.

      Plus, her sleep last night had been repeatedly interrupted by the image of bright gray-green eyes that left her restless and needy in a way she’d never felt before. A way she was definitely not comfortable with.

      “It will be fine,” Bill assured her as the meeting was called to order.

      Richard Hyatt sat with his wife and lawyer at an angle across from Trinity and Bill, which should have been enough to put her out of their line of sight. Still she shifted in discomfort as she noticed the couple’s gazes trained in her direction. What trouble were they stirring up now?

      She had to wonder what influence Richard had used with the temporary board director to get everyone to show up for this. He acted as if winning the case for Michael’s inheritance was a done deal and he’d already been elevated to CEO, instead of still being only a member of the board.

      “This meeting at my request to the chair was called with some urgency to address issues brought to my awareness this morning,” Richard said, taking to his feet as if to assert his superiority over the others around the table. “How many of you have seen this?”

      He clicked a button on the remote in his hand, which caused a portion of the back wall to slide down. The large screen behind it was already on, displaying a photo of Trinity. She could easily read the headline on the screen.

      Suspicious Widow Fights for Control

      of Hyatt Estate

      Trinity couldn’t hold in a gasp, though she would have given anything not to react after Richard smirked in her direction.

      But he didn’t stop there. “I told the board you’d be bad for business, but they wouldn’t listen.”

      His words were lost in the cacophony of voices as board members asserted their opinions. They clicked on the keyboards before them on the table’s highly polished surface. He’d gotten his point across, and that was all that mattered.

      Trinity pressed her shaking fingers together. The headline and blog post were only the beginning of the ugliness. There were also photos. The series of pictures included one of her at the funeral, one from the charity event the night before looking particularly standoffish, and a picture of her marriage certificate. She tuned out the noise around her as she read the short captions and comments.

      They included vague claims about how unfit Trinity was, simply because she’d never been part of New Orleans’s upper crust and ran a charity for a living. There were specific details about her short marriage to Michael and a link to documentation about the court case filed by Richard and Patricia, all under the hashtag #NOLASecrets. A few Black Widow comments thrown in didn’t sit well with her either.

      “Where is this from?” Bill’s sharp

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