by Jacqueline Gum

Created on: January 25, 2010   Last Updated: July 23, 2011

CHAPTER ONE

“I knew his old man well, and Richard Carlucci  is no Anthony Carlucci,” Ron Carlson said. “He’s thirty-three going on eighteen, in love with himself. I’m afraid he’s going to wreck the company.”

David Wilkens watched Richard adjust the microphone and tug his French cuff down so it peeked from under the sleeve of his Brioni suit. The onyx cufflinks had probably cost as much as David’s living room couch.

“Cut him some slack,” he said. “It’s only been a year and I think he’s really trying to move the company forward.” As vice-president of sales, David had his own concerns. 

 “Good morning and happy Friday!” Richard’s voice boomed through the open office area. “Today marks a new day for Applied Genetic Corporation. When my father founded this business in 1962, people laughed. Selling bull sperm wasn’t exactly glamorous. Hell, it wasn’t even mentionable in certain circles. My mother was embarrassed to admit what her husband did for a living when she went to her bridge club. But today, AGC is…”

 “It shouldn’t have gone down like this,” Ron whispered.

“The plaque on your door has executive in front of vice-president,” David said. “All capital letters—not so bad. And you had your chance.”

“How the hell was I supposed to take over when Anthony never put it in writing? Ron said.“You weren’t in that particular board meeting!  How could I  gracefully rob the kid of his…legacy?”

Applause interrupted them.

 “Like the new digs?” Richard gestured with a wide arm, his voice rising.

“And I can’t believe he had the walls painted red!” Ron hissed.

“Happens all the time with a regime change,” David said. “The contemporary imprint of a new generation.” 

Ron indicated the open office area with a short jab of his thumb.

“So you like all this?”

Traditional metal desks had been replaced by kidney-shaped writing surfaces cantilevered on the panels of silver cubicles. Black matte lateral files lined the partitions. Museum-quality lighting assured that modern art by the likes of David Hockney and Julian Schnabel was shown prominently.

“I don’t dislike it.”

“Anthony would have—”

“Shhhhh.”

 “But

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