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“It’s your daughter, sir, she says,” the concierge said into the handset. “Very well.”
The concierge hung up the phone and pointed toward the elevator doors.
I nodded and then walked away, feeling relieved, and then feeling sad that I was relieved that my father had agreed to see me.
But I was.
Him accepting the visit wasn’t a sure thing, so I was glad I had a chance to do this before I lost my nerve.
As the elevator went up, up, up to the penthouse, I spared a moment’s thought for my childhood home.
It had been my grandfather’s house, and my mother had grown up there, but in my senior year of high school, my father had sold it. Said it was too big for a single man.
I’d been sad about it. I had hoped he would hold onto it because it was such a close tie to those we had lost.
But he’d simply told me I was being sentimental, and I hadn’t dared mention it again.
The elevator dinged, and I stepped off, then knocked on the penthouse door.
He opened it and looked down at me with a frown.
“What is it, Amy?”
He didn’t even ask me in before hurling the question at me.
“May I come in, sir?” I asked, not wanting to have this conversation in the hallway.
“Fine, but I have dinner plans. So make it quick,” he said as he pulled the door open a little wider.
He walked inside, and I closed the door, noticing that he was wearing an undershirt and gray slacks. More underdressed than I usually saw him, but it reminded me of growing up, how he’d get dressed for very important dinners that I never attended. Still, seeing him leaving, looking so impressive and formidable, was something I remembered fondly.
“Well, what is it?” he asked, snapping me out of the memory. “And it better not be any silliness about Keenan.”
“What do you mean, sir?” I asked, feeling my hackles rise.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your behavior. Keenan has mentioned that you have an attitude when you’re completing your assigned tasks,” my father said.
“I do not!” I exclaimed, not sure if I was more offended that Keenan had lied or that my father seemed to believe him.
“Check your tone when you’re speaking to me,” he said.
He stared at me expectantly, and I nodded.
“I’m sorry, sir. But I have been nothing but cordial to Keenan,” I said.
“Well, he disagrees.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe I should speak with him and see if there’s something I can do to better meet his expectations,” I said, wanting to bite off my own tongue instead of speak those words.
“Yeah, you should. I thought after all this time you would be over your little…fling. But even if you’re not, I won’t have your poor decisions influencing our company,” he said.
I didn’t comment on that and instead tried to stay focused. I wasn’t here to talk about Keenan and whatever bullshit he had been feeding my dad.
“Sir, I actually had something really important to talk to you about,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“Well, what is it?” he asked as he put on his crisp, white, button-down shirt.
“Can you sit?” I said.
