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It’s been a month since my father died, and my mom and I have fallen into a routine. I moved back home, temporarily, just until she settles down and can find a new rhythm. The hard days came like Ash said they would, for me and for my mom too. She sank into a depression, but she never returned to the bottle, unlike me. The bottle is all I seem to crave these days.
“Mr. Rothwell…”
My attention snaps back to the men around the boardroom table. Everyone is looking to me to have the answers. This is, after all, my company, and I’m responsible for whether it sinks or sails. After running away from it for so long, here I am at the helm. I can’t let it sink. Thousands of people depend on the success of this company or my success.
“Yes…I say we proceed with the investment. It’s likely to bring in more revenue and increase our footprint.”
Nods around the table assured me that I may not have the decades of experience my father does, but I sure as fuck know what I’m doing.
When the meeting adjourns, I made my way down to the publishing division. Knocking at Will’s door, I enter when he calls for me to do so.
He stands when he sees me, clearly cautious.
“I owe you an apology, James,” I say, lowering into his visitor's chair.
“You didn’t know the whole story, Ryder,” he says, and I wish his words absolve me of my sins, but they don’t. I acted like the very thing I despised—my father.
“That doesn’t excuse my behavior. Just know this division is yours to run. I won’t interfere.”
He nods. “What about your art?”
Leaning back in the chair, I let out a sigh, “I can finally stop hiding it. But this company needs my focus right now. Art is in my blood; it’ll be there when I find the right person here to hand over the reins to.”
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry about your father.”
“Thank you, Will. In some ways, I am sorry too.”
When I leave his office, I walk up to the one place I have evaded since I returned—my father’s office.
His secretary, a tall, leggy blonde, stands when I enter the reception area. “Mr. Rothwell, I didn’t expect you today.”
“It’s alright, Samantha.”
She wrings her hands together, her blue eyes downcast. “I am sorry about your father.”
I nod.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee?” She asks.
“No, I’ll just be in there.” I motioned to my father’s office. “I believe he has an intern who coordinates some of his activities. Can you get whoever that is to come and see me?”
“Of course, I’ll let Mr. Gates know.”
I halt, turning toward her, “Porter Gates?”
She nods. “Yes, he’s a part-time intern in the VP’s office, Sir. He’s in his final year at Rothwell.”
I scoff, the mystery of who leaked that video of Ash and Will is now solved.
“Thanks, Samantha. I’ll be in the office.”
Porter Gates strolls into my father’s office an hour later. “Hi, Ryder. I looked for you in your office.”
“Well, I figured I’d tie up some loose ends here. Sit, Porter.”
He joins me at the conference table. “I haven’t seen you since the funeral. How’ve you been?”
