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Wade finally lifts his head and looks me in the eyes.
“Harrison, with all due respect, don’t give me any of that. It’s not my job to fix this shit. You’re the CEO! What do you think I’m actually doing here? Yeah, I’m working numbers and money, but my main job is to make sure that you do not screw this whole company up! Apparently, I’ve already failed at that.”
The blood starts banging in my ears really quickly.
I inhale deeply and start pacing my breathing. My hands are balling into fists, and if I stay in here a second longer, I’ll probably cave Wade’s face in. Taking the smarter decision, I head out of his office, walk back to mine, and shut the door with a slam.
I begin to feel lightheaded as the realization dawns on me.
Wade is actually here to “keep an eye” on me.
Fuck!
What on earth is wrong with my father?
Picking up my phone, I call Roscoe. I need some answers. I need to know how much longer these people can mess with my emotions like this.
He answers on the third ring.
“Harrison. What’s up?” His voice booms from the speaker and wafts through my head.
“Roscoe, what time do you get off work today? I need to see you. It’s important.”
Roscoe notices the strain in my voice and his voice goes lower. “I can head out at three PM. You can come over any time from then.”
I’m not sure how I manage to get through the rest of the day, but a few hours later, I’m sitting at the exclusive gold-tinted bar in Roscoe’s house, nursing my whiskey as my head starts filling with blood again.
“Harry, I don’t know what to tell you, but that’s the truth. Wade was something of a ‘yes, man’ when he worked at Bridges. Did all kinds of silly espionage bullshit for Dad. He’s a good finance guy, either way, so when Building Bridges needed a CFO, Dad was quick to recommend his top spy. I pleaded with him to not do something that silly, but you know how he is. Wade was placed there to keep an eye on you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Every word coming out of Roscoe’s mouth is cutting deep into my heart.
“Is this how certain Dad has been that I’ll fail? Roscoe, this is hard.” I sip my drink and shut my eyes, letting the burn graze through my throat.
“I’m sorry,” Roscoe says, patting my back. Despite how close he is to our father, his support will always mean everything to me. “But seriously, no one said this was gonna easy. These things will happen when you run your own business. You're gonna have to find a way to deal with the bullshit any legal way you can.”
I’m not so sure of that anymore.
Sitting up, I prop my head up with one hand. “Roscoe, I’m scared. I’m scared of everything slipping out of my hands entirely. I don’t want to fail but I’m not seeing a way out of this hole. This Hayes guy is like a ghost. A ghost with so much power. He’s doing the most with his lies and I don’t know what else to do.”
Roscoe continues speaking and encouraging me, but I’m no longer listening.
This nagging fear of failure has become all-consuming.
15
CHARLEE
There’s something exceptionally calming about rainwater sounds.
I literally have an entire album named “rain sounds” on my phone. I often download different spatter-intensity audio files off the internet, and depending on how I feel at any time, there’s always something for my mood.
Today, I’m at home, going for the gentlest rain shower sound. I have my headset on and I’m still in my bathrobe. I’m sitting, holding the white stick in my hand and waiting for the sound to douse my rising trepidation.
Today, I’m finally going to take a pregnancy test. I can’t do this to myself anymore.
I threw up about four times last week and someone almost noticed at work. The dizziness, coupled with this unnerving nausea has sent me into the depths of relentless fatigue. I’m tired all the time, my appetite is gone, and the headaches are nerve-racking. My period is still nowhere to be found.
And then there’s that glow. Despite how unwell I feel these days, my skin is glowing beautifully, and that’s saying something, because I’m often looking too pale-white for my own liking.
