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I pause and look my dad over, he looks the same way he always does, healthy and ready to kick someone’s ass the second he needs to.
I’ve seen it in action, when one of his workers showed up to work drunk on a day he’d taken me with him, the man had started slurring obscenities at other people and then took a swing at Dad. My dad had him down on his stomach in a few seconds with his hands behind his back. Granted, the dude was drunk, but I had watched my dad with stars in my eyes when he’d taken the man down.
Granted, I was also twelve at the time.
“Is everything else okay?”
He frowns at me. “What do you mean? Everything’s fine.”
“You’re not sick or something?”
His eyes roll up to the ceiling and he sighs, again. “No. I’m not sick. I just want to take care of you. I wanted to give this company to my son.”
“I know you did, Dad,” I answer and take a seat in the chair opposite his desk, suddenly bone weary. “Just… the thought of giving up on my work, it kills a little piece of me. It has nothing to do with construction, it’s anything. Working in a mail room, while my girlfriend is the fucking CEO is killing me.”
Dad regards me then, looking me over, and then leans his forearms against the desk. “Okay. I get it. I won’t push.”
“Thank you.”
“But I want to help you with this art. Get your shit sold. Just let me know how I can help.”
I smile slightly at the offer. “I’m not sure how much you can do.”
Dad smiles and then says, “Have you ever heard of Frederick Sims?”
My eyebrows pop up. “Haveyou?”Frederick Sims is one of the most well-known graphite artists in California, he has galleries all over the place and is a multimillionaire, maybe even billionaire now.
“I have. Actually, he’s decided that he wants a home up in Aspen.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” Dad chuckles. “He’s got me designing him a multimillion-dollar mansion up there, it’s fucking fancy.”
I chuckle at my dad’s description and say, “So, what, you want to show him some of my work?”
He leans back in his seat and interlaces his fingers. “He wants me to get a huge jump on his house, wants it done by spring which is… a big ask. But hey, I never do anything for nothing. I think I’d be much more motivated if he did me a favor.”
“You’re not blackmailing your client for me.”
“You watch too much TV. No, not blackmailing. But I’ve got a working lunch with him next week. I want you to be there with me, with your portfolio.”
“Fuck,” I mumble and run my hand over my beard. “This is big, Dad. Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He eyes me for a minute. “I love you, Warren. I want what’s best for you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” I mumble again, crossing my arms and looking away. “What if he says no?”
“Well, that’s part of my deal.” He arches a brow and I wait for the other shoe to drop. “If this doesn’t work out, you come work for me.”
Dread curls in my stomach at the thought because I know what will happen. If I start working for him, I’ll never stop. I’ll work in construction for the rest of my life, take over my dad’s company and get myself stuck in the job forever.
As horrible as that sounds to me, I realize that could be someone else’s dream job. So is it the worst deal I could take? Was I ready to take that leap of faith that this would work out?
“Okay,” I hear myself agree before I can back out and reach my hand out to my dad’s. “Deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“And now that you don’t have to be perfect,
