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“Toni’s amazing. She really helped save the day, and I think she had a lot of fun yesterday, playing ambassador.” It’s a new tactic. Normally, I would’ve taken Dad’s compliment of Toni and run with it, assuming he was comparing us and that I was coming out on the unfavorable end. But I can see where that’s not what he means at all. He just loves Toni, as he should.
And he loves me. He’s just shit at showing it, but he’s making an effort and that’s all I can ask. And I can return the favor, making an effort of my own.
“Excellent.” He hands me back my phone and catches my eye to say seriously, “Good job, Carson.”
There he goes, making those efforts again. He did hear me.
To Jayme, he remarks, “Seems like you had a winning idea. I definitely had doubts.” He laughs lightly. “But you pulled it off.”
“The team did,” Jayme corrects. “Carson and I worked hard on getting the talent signed on, but there were a number of people doing the important work of making the festival a success,” she adds, claiming credit but also giving it where it’s warranted.
Dad leans back in his chair, his elbows on the armrests as he steeples his hands. “I think you’d agree that knowing what a business or person needs” —he gives me a quick glance before refocusing on Jayme— “is a true talent. You were a real asset to the team to spark this idea.”
My blood freezes in my veins at Dad’s tone—slightly distant, a touch snobby. I’ve heard it before in business meetings before he cuts someone off at the knees. But why in the world would he do that to Jayme? She’s done nothing but help Americana Land! And me.
Though she did call him on his shit, which I’m sure he didn’t take well. But is he that angry?
And why is he reducing her contribution down to the initial idea? It’s not like she could’ve made the suggestion and then bailed on us. We wouldn’t have been able to do this without her and her connections.
“Dad—” I try to interrupt to prevent him from saying something he’ll regret, professionally and personally, because if he hurts Jayme, I’m going to have a hard time stopping myself from lunging over his desk to punch him square in the nose.
He holds up a staying hand. “It’s okay, Carson. I have a few talents of my own, one of which is seeing others. And I see something special in you, Ms. Rice. That’s why I’d like to offer you a position with Americana Land.”
The air is sucked out of the room, and time freezes. It’s not Jayme he’s blindsiding. It’s me.
“What?” I mutter.
“Pardon me?” Jayme asks.
Dad smiles congenially as if he didn’t just detonate a bomb with his words. “A position with Americana Land. You’re something special. And I think you could take us to a whole new level. You’ve already shown that you’re capable of it. Think of what else you could do here.”
Jayme turns her head and looks at me. “Carson, did you know about this?”
I shake my head woodenly, my eyes still locked on Dad.
“I see,” Jayme says before making a harrumph sound. “Ben, I’m flattered at the offer. Truly, I am. But my talent, as you called it, is in crisis image restoration, and I’m damn good at it.” The boast isn’t humble in the slightest, but there’s no need for it to be. Jayme’s claim is backed up with all the facts and figures we went over minutes ago. “I agree that what we’ve done here has made a major positive impact on your company overall, but you don’t need me beyond that. As I’ve said, you already have an amazing team that can be innovative, bring ideas to fruition, and implement continuous updates to keep Americana Land progressing with the times to be profitable and relevant. And it’s led by Carson. You don’t need me. You need to let Carson do what he does best.”
Once again, Jayme is fighting my battle, saying things I’ve said to him or have wanted to say. But her filter is nonexistent. Maybe because she does come in, fix things, and go. It must give her a sense of freedom to not be accountable to a boss that way.
Unfortunately, that’s not the case for me.
But I’m done biting my tongue.
“Dad, it’s grossly inappropriate for you to extend an offer like that without first discussing it with me. Unless your intention is to replace me?” I ask the question with a snarl in my throat.
“What?” he exclaims, managing to look surprised, confused, and horrified all at the same time. “I would never do that! What are you talking about? You two worked well together, so I thought it’d be good for everyone if we kept that dynamic. That’s all.” He’s looking back and forth from Jayme to me as though he suggested something completely logical and we’re the weird ones making it sound vastly different. As though he suggested a simple brunch and we heard ‘a trip to Mars on flying horses’.
