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“Why?” I demand, stomping my foot in annoyance. I’ve had enough of him today.
He leans in, close enough his breath ruffles the hair above my ear. “You’ll see,” he whispers and pulls away. I stifle a shudder I know would just embolden him and remind myself that in a few minutes, I’ll have the keys to unlock this cage and fly free of him, free of my father, and free of this entire town.
When this position was posted two month ago, Rich Felgar, our Chief Operations Officer, encouraged me to apply. When my father found out I wa
s a candidate, he sent Rich an email with me on copy saying that he knew that Rich was partial to me and thanked him for “humoring” my application.
When I made it past the first round of interviews, my father sent me an email advising me not to expect Rich’s favoritism to give me an advantage.
Not only did I not want any favoritism, I didn’t need it. My father may have convinced a lot of people I got my summa cum lade Bachelor’s degree in economics and statistics by dropping my last name and my panties, but the way I worked my way up the ranks at Wolfe for the last five years helped prove otherwise.
When Rich called to tell me last night that he’d made his decision and the job was mine, I’d cried happy tears. It wasn’t just the title, salary, and moving to New York I’ve been working for over the last ten soul-crushing, character-building years. I’ve also been waiting for the moment when my father would be forced to admit I’ve done well.
It leaves a bitter taste in the back of my throat to admit that after everything he’s done, I still crave my father’s approval. My only consolation prize is that I don’t crave it at any cost. I could have done what he’s been demanding all of these years. At least this way, I earned it. And he can’t do anything to diminish that.
When the elevator stops at the floor dedicated entirely to the C level executives, I’m bursting with anticipation. I walk at a normal pace to Rich’s office, but I wish I could run. Rich’s assistant, Kate, isn’t at her desk, so I walk right up to his door and knock, ignoring Duke who is a few paces behind me.
“Come in,” my father’s voice booms through the heavy door. My heart jumps, and I turn my head to look at Duke. The smile on his face, sharp and cold as steel blades, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
He strides toward me, reaches over to open the door and then gives me a small shove that sends me stumbling into the room.
My father is sitting behind Rich’s desk—the very picture of doom—glaring at us.
“For fuck’s sake what took you so long?” he grumbles and waves at the two chairs across the desk from him.
Duke shoots him a shit eating grin. “Sorry, sir, it took me a minute to get—”
“You could have stopped at sorry.” My father snaps and then looks back at the stack of papers on his desk.
“Richard and I were meeting to discuss my new role, I understand you’re running the meeting?” I say, standing where I am.
Malice lifts the corners of his mouth into an imperceptible smile that is the proverbial record player’s needle finding the one tiny scratch on your record, the one you’ve spent your life trying to buff away. And because everything had been going so smoothly, you’d allowed yourself to believe the scratch had been polished away.
That smile says I was a fool to think this record could ever play right, again. My father will never forgive me. And he will never let me go.
I say the words I know are coming next. “You fired Rich.” And take a seat next to Duke before my wobbly knees give out on me.
“Effective immediately. I’ll be announcing Duke as his successor.”
I whip my head in Duke’s direction, expecting to find him looking as puzzled as I feel. He doesn’t meet my gaze, instead he’s watching my father with a look of solemn acceptance that makes me want to scratch his eyes out. With my heart now racing and dread lodged in my throat, I force a patient, expectant smile.
“Congratulation, Duke.” I turn back to my father. “Rich and I were meeting to discuss my candidacy for the Manager role in his—”
“The role has been eliminated,” my father informs me.
I blink and frown in confusion. “I’m talking about the Joint Venture Finance position.”
He looks up at me. His steely gray gaze full of impatience. “So am I. We decided the role was redundant, Duke can absorb the responsibilities.”
“Duke?” I gawk incredulously.
“Yes, it’s the first stop on the leadership track.” He gives me a tight smile and then turns his attention to Duke. “As you know, my son isn’t here to assume the role I’d hoped. The daughter who had the natural strength and intellect to step into his shoes is dead. Duke has become like a son to—”
“But, what about me?” I wince at the infantile whine in my voice, but I can’t help it. “I mean, I applied for the job. Rich chose me. He’s run this department for as long as I’ve been alive.”
“Longer,” he corrects me, his gaze going steely. “It hurt to let him go, but he forced my hand by hiring you.”
“But…I got the job. I was the best candidate,” I sputter, my voice breaking on that last word.
