Money Devils 1 by Ashley & JaQuavis

Author:Ashley & JaQuavis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 8

“What’s this I hear about a strike?” August Sinclair Sr. walked into West’s office. He was an aged version of his son. Distinguished, wealthy, and powerful, his presence filled the room as he entered like he owned the place. In fact, he did. He was responsible for building Sinclair Enterprises from the ground up. Every piece of wood, every nail, every door handle was property of this visionary oil tycoon. He was the only person in the entire building who didn’t need to knock. Known to everyone he loved as Senior, he was the head of the Sinclair family and a mentor to both his sons. West might not be blood born, but he was of equal importance to the Sinclairs.

“The workers on the Galveston rig have walked out,” West answered, standing to embrace the man in front of him.

“Your mother asked me to bring you this,” Senior said, placing a pie on his desk.

“She’s the best.” West chuckled as he rounded his desk and sat in his executive chair. “Every Friday night, win or lose, I came home to this blackberry pie.”

“You’re her son,” Senior said. “Our family changed the moment we met you, Westin. I’m very proud of you. We all are.”

West remembered the days when he was sleeping in a beat-up, old-school car. He would never forget the day Mrs. Sinclair pulled him into her office and asked him if he were homeless. He had been in the sixth grade; and from that day forward, she took him home so he would have a warm bed to sleep in. She went from principal to his foster mom; and before he entered high school, the Sinclairs had adopted him officially. He had clicked instantly with August, and their friendship had transformed into brotherhood. Overnight, West had become a part of the upper class. The Sinclair family had changed his life, and he had planned to pay them back when he made it to the NFL. He had been a star on the field; but in his second year of college, he’d ruined his knee, ending his career before it’d even begun. Since oil was the Sinclair family business, he fell into place and soaked up the knowledge Senior had to offer.

“I appreciate you, old man,” West said. “I’ll never be able to say it enough.”

“You don’t need to say it at all, son,” Senior said. “Now, tell me about this strike. Have you spoken to the head of the union?”

“I’ve requested a list of their concerns. This is bad. The longer we let this linger, the more money we lose. We’re bleeding profit by the minute. Every single second that the rig is down, it’s costing us. My instincts tell me to be very flexible. Also to keep it out of the press.”

“We’ll bend as much as we can. These workers give their lives to the rig. It’s their home. They spend months on end on that boat. I want the conditions as comfortable as possible. Whatever they want, let’s try to meet them halfway,” Senior said.

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