He’s not a bad father. He’s done everything to provide for me and our family so we can have a good life. He just hashis own ideas of what that should be. Mom always says we are too much alike, hence why we butt heads.
She calls us stubborn fools.
It’s one of the reasons I set out on my own, wanting to make a name for myself. I didn’t want handouts or to be given everything on a platter. I wanted to earn it and maybe his respect. It worked for my job, but now he’s focused on other matters.
“Noah, did you come from work?” Amanda asks sweetly. She is a perfect mixture of poise and grace, and despite her usual venom, she flutters her lashes sweetly. “You must be so tired. Don’t be so hard on him, Mr. Fletcher. He’s working hard. I visited his little garage myself, and it’s so busy there.”
I grab a glass of wine and tip it back, needing it to get through the night. These meals are always more like a business meeting than a family get-together. I used to long for their attention and approval, but once I realized my father spoke to me like he did to his board of directors, I quickly lost interest.
I still sometimes have a childish wish that my father would love me, but he has always considered me an extension of himself and his business. It doesn’t make him a bad father, just a cold one.
Mom reaches under the table and pats my hand, silently showing her support. She’ll speak up if she needs to, but she knows how well that goes. When Father sets his mind to something, he gets his way.
“How is the racing business?” Amanda’s father asks. What he truly wants to know is how my profits are doing. If he gets his way and I marry his daughter, he’ll have his claws in my business and money for the rest of our lives.
“Noah’s business is doing very well. I check on it myself,” my father answers, sitting taller as if he’s proud, but I know it’s more about the money I’m earning than anything.
“Isn’t the racing industry a tad small? You’re so talented, Noah. With your business degrees, you could have taken over for your father,” Amanda’s mother comments. “It’s a shame.”
“There is still time.” My father grins. “It’s a family business, after all. Who needs more wine?”
I stay quiet, ignoring their chatter since it’s nothing I give a shit about. They can think what they want about my future and business because the only one who will be deciding it is me.
“Amanda and I found the perfect venue the other day for the wedding. We need to ensure we are making preparations. It will be the wedding of the year due to our families, so you can never plan too early.” My head jerks up and I narrow my eyes on her mother before looking at my father. He spares me a glance before smiling.
“Of course, we can discuss that?—”
“No, we can’t.” I wipe my mouth, tossing my napkin down. “I thought I made this very clear, but apparently not. I have no intention of marrying Amanda or anyone else you choose for me. If, and I mean if, I ever do decide to get married, it will be someone of my choosing.”
“Noah,” my mother whispers.
Amanda’s father’s fork clangs into his plate as he glares at me and my father. “My daughter has been promised to you. If you back out now, she will be seen as damaged and we will never get her married. It would ruin both of our reputations.”
My father tries to smooth things over. “Rest assured, Mr. Winchester. Noah intends to marry Amanda?—”
“No, I don’t. Not ever. For starters, she isn’t my type.” I run my eyes down her, making it clear, and her eyes narrow in anger as some of her usual venom returns.
“No, he prefers things I don’t have,” she spits before her mother silences her, and she bows her head, looking respectful, but I know it’s to hide her anger. She wants this wedding as much as they do—not because she loves or wants me, but because she wants my name and the money and reputation that would come with it.
“Kids, you don’t know what you want or what’s best for you. You’d pick someone to spite me and ruin your future. Amanda is a good match. She’s from a good family, and she’s smart, driven?—”
“And yet I still won’t marry her.” I smile as my father’s face turns red.
“We had a deal, Noah,” my father snarls. “Youcould chase your dreams of racing, and this was the compromise. You are a man of this family, so you will keep your word.”
My smile drops as we glare at each other. “I built my business and name from the ground up. You can’t take it.”
“Try me,” he threatens. “You will keep your word. That’s what men in our family do.”
Shoving my chair back, I down my drink. “Excuse me, I’m no longer in the mood to eat.”
“Noah,” my mom begs. I force my anger back and smile as I lean down and kiss her cheek again. “Please stay.”
“I’ll see you next week,” I say, and without another look back, I storm from the dining room, my father’s voice ringing after me.
“You will learn your place, Noah. Don’t mistake me!”
My car is still outside, so I take the keys and gun it out of there, heading to the one place where I can calm my struggling heart.
