Page 119 of Break Points and Face Offs

“Is it really that hard to imagine?”

Ben looks me over and I do my best not to check my shirt for stains. “This Priestley standing in front of me? Nope, not hard to imagine at all.”

Ben walks me out into the hallway. Elias is watching us from the kitchen as he unloads the groceries on the counter.

“What are you doing now?” Ben asks me. “We’re watching a movie when everyone gets home, if you want to stick around.”

“Thanks, but I have a meeting with my father.”

Ben pulls a face.

“Want to bring Elias with you? He’s pretty good at putting men like our dads in their places.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Elias has told your dad off?”

Ben grins. “Reminded him that I’m in the ITA top twenty when he was trying to suggest I’m not as impressive as my brother.”

I get a twinge of guilt over all the times Father has done that to Jamie, compared him unfavorably to me.

“I’m sorry your dad’s like that, Ben. Truly.”

Ben shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face.

“We’re a family, right? Alpha Sigma Psi?”

I smile and clap him on the shoulder. “Yes, brothers for life.”

This time, Father makes me wait in the lobby before calling me in. The same receptionist sits behind the desk, glancing at me every now and then like he knows what’s about to happen.

I resist the urge to check my watch. Try not to bounce my foot impatiently. Remind myself that I can handle the repercussions of my actions. I made my decision and I’m sticking to it. I’m prouder of who I am becoming than who I was at the start of the school year.

The Priestley who sat in this office waiting for his father’s approval back before classes started is not who I want to be anymore. If Father can’t handle that, then I’ll just have to accept it.

Instinctively, I try to read his expression when he finally opens the door and calls me in. He isn’t giving much away, but experience tells me he isn’t happy.

There’s no one in the room when he ushers me inside. He didn’t have a meeting; he was just making me wait. One of my father’s many mind games, used to exercise control. To remind people who is in charge.

“Sit down, Priestley.”

I resist the urge to smooth down my tie or check my hair in the reflection of the glass wall behind Father’s desk. I’m not mentally calculating the chances of me having a stain on my shirt or dirt on my shoe.

Father remains standing, leaning on the desk, his hands pressing into the green leather padding over the wooden surface.

“I called you in here today, Priestley, to give you one last chance to change your mind.”

I swallow, clear my throat. “Change my mind about what?”

His nostrils flare. “You know what—this ridiculous notion that you won’t be working here over the summer.”

“No, Father. I haven’t changed my mind.”

He huffs, pushing off from the desk. He turns his back to me and faces the glass window and the view of the New York Harbor.

“You know I can’t let you ruin the Rosenthal name.”

My stomach drops, thinking about Jamie. Thinking about all the ways in which I want to help Will and his family. I could just tell my father I’m sorry and take the job at RAM. It would be guaranteed financial success. But Will wouldn’t respect me if I did that and I wouldn’t respect myself, either. It would mean bowing to my father for the rest of my life. Being the old Priestley, the one I’ve worked so hard to shed like an old skin.

“I have an internship lined up at Morgan Stanley.”