Van nodded. “The 30th is also a Friday. The markets never truly close, but with the combination of the insignificance of Wade, the end of the fiscal year, and the holidays, there would have been a good chance that the news of the sales would have stayed hidden until return to business on January 3rd.”

My mind was too busy trying to make sense of everything to concentrate on Van’s description of Wade Pharmaceutical as insignificant.

I took a deep breath and stood. “Skylar and I would have been out of the country by then. Why should I believe you? If everything you say about Marlin Butler is true, then I’ve been a pawn longer than I realized. That doesn’t instill trust. If I can’t trust a man I’ve known my entire life, who is also my father’s best friend, then how can I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

Van’s gaze followed me as I walked back and forth in front of the window. For a moment, I stared again out on the scenic snow-covered setting. As I watched people walk this way and that upon the sidewalks before the storefronts bundled in their winter layers, I realized there were many things I didn’t know about Van, Ashland, or the company that was destined to be mine.

Before either of us could comment, a knock came at the door. When Van and I turned, Mr. Fields appeared.

“Oscar,” Van said, “I said that we weren’t to be disturbed.”

Mr. Fields’s gaze went from Van to me and back to Van. “Sir, if you’d like me to conclude this meeting for you, I’d be happy—”

“I don’t.”

“The time...it has taken—”

Van shook his head. “Call my office and let them know that I was detained.”

“Do you have any idea of how long this meeting will last? Mrs. Preston called and you have another meeting...”

Taking a deep breath, Van stood. “Leave us. I’ll call Connie.”

Oscar Fields nodded as he backed out of the room and closed the door.

“What do you do?” I asked as Van reached for the phone in his breast pocket.

His full lips curled as his gaze met mine. “I buy and sell.”

“What?”

“Anything. Everything has a price.” Van lifted his phone to his ear. Still speaking to me, he said, “Move in with me, write my memoir, and learn who I really am.”

It was an intriguing offer.

What will I learn?

Who is this man who is a self-proclaimed significant player in the world of high finance, who dresses as if he is to appear on Esquire, and also chops wood and is comfortable in a remote cabin?

He called Skylar an infant. From what I’d seen of Van, I couldn’t judge his age. His statement would mean that he was older than Skylar and older than I.

How much?