Adam's Daughter Read Free Page A

disappeared after the funeral, returning two days later with no explanation. Stephen sequestered himself at the newspaper office, his job as managing editor providing his solace. Kellen retrieved her Audi from the garage and took drives at all hours.
    Josh finally called them all together for the reading of Adam’s will. Ian, Tyler, and Kellen took their seats in the study silently and in wary distances from one another. Josh sat in a chair at the side of the oak desk and glanced at each of the children. Ian, now thirty-five, sitting erect in a chair, calmly smoking a cigarette. Tyler, at eleven, fair-haired and thin, his blue eyes cautious. And Kellen, now a beautiful woman of twenty-five. Her face, always a mirror of her emotions, was drawn with despondency and fatigue.
    “I knew your father for more than thirty years,” Josh began slowly. “There were a few times when I thought I maybe knew him well. As well as anyone could.” He paused. “He was a complex man. At times, difficult, stubborn, even hard.”
    Kellen looked up at Josh.
    “But I have no doubt that he loved you three,” he went on. “And he wanted you to love each other. That’s why three weeks ago he had me rewrite his will.”
    Ian stared at Josh, his cigarette poised in midair. “He didn’t say anything to me about this,” he said.
    “He wanted nothing known until after his death, Ian.” Josh put on his glasses and began to read. “‘I, Adam Bryant, domiciled in San Francisco County, California, do make, publish, and declare this to be my last will and testament...’”
    Josh’s voice droned on through all the preliminary articles of the will. Kellen half listened, her eyes roaming over the photographs on the walls. She heard the names of several of her father’s favorite charities and servants. Generous bequests to Stanford University and the opera.
    “ ‘Article six,’” Josh said. “‘I leave the house in Carmel to my daughter Kellen.’”
    Kellen looked at Ian. He shrugged.
    “It’s an ugly house,” he said. “You can have it. It’s your responsibility now.”
    Josh cleared his throat and she turned back to him.
    “‘Article seven.’” Josh paused. “‘I bequeath to my three children, Ian Thomas Bryant, Kellen Elizabeth Bryant, and Tyler Landon Bryant, the remainder of my estate, including all personal holdings and properties of the Bryant Newspaper Corporation, to be divided equally among them.’”
    Ian glanced quickly at Kellen. She looked to Josh.
    “‘This bequest is made,’” Josh went on, “‘with the provision that Ian and Kellen participate jointly in the management of the San Francisco Times and the chain holdings, with each having an equal-voting half interest.’”
    “What?” Ian blurted out.
    Josh looked at him then readjusted his glasses. “‘My son Tyler will obtain equal voting power at age twenty-one.’ ”
    “I don’t believe this,” Ian said. “He said nothing to me --”
    “Let me finish, Ian, please,” Josh said. “There is another provision. ‘Article eight: I hereby decree that Stephen Hillman be named editor in chief of the San Francisco Times , and retain said position for his lifetime or until he deems otherwise.’” Josh put down the paper and took off his glasses. “That’s the gist of it,” he said.
    “I can’t believe he’d do this,” Ian said. “I’m the publisher. He didn’t tell me any of this.” He jumped up from his chair and began pacing.
    “Ian -—” Josh said.
    “I’ve been working my ass off,” Ian said, “and now I’m expected to run things with these two?” He waved a hand at Tyler and Kellen.
    “Adam wanted you all to work together,” Josh said. “He knew the chain was in trouble and he knew it was too late for him to do anything. This was his way of telling you three to work together to save it.”
    Ian laughed. “That’s a good one. Why in the hell didn’t he tell me? I’m his son, for crissake. He wouldn’t tell me this when