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“I’m rotating at the moment. I finish my last role in a few weeks and I’m going into operations management. My father owns the company.”
“Cross?”
My mother coughs then takes a gulp of wine. Dayna flicks her eyes to her, then back to my father.
“Yes, Roger Cross. I’m Dayna Cross.”
My father finishes his meal without speaking, and the conversation at the table is minimal. Dayna turns her wine glass in her fingers, obviously uncomfortable. I hold her hand beneath the table, but she’s subdued.
After lunch, the others head into the lounge, but my father asks, or rather instructs, me to speak with him. If he hadn’t got in first, I would have demanded to speak with him and ask him why he was a complete, utter arsehole the first time he met my girlfriend. The only time he’s met a girlfriend of mine.
We head into the library. My father closes the door before moving to stand in front of me, tall and broad — not quite as tall and broad as me, but a big man. “This is the first and last time you will bring a Cross into my house.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I will not have a Cross under this roof.”
“How can you say that? What’s Dayna ever done to you?”
“It’s not the girl, it’s her father and SP. I won’t have the Layton name associated with scum like Cross. And you won’t be associated with his daughter.”
“I’ll do what I goddamn want.”
My father shocks me, reaching out and grabbing my throat. I have to fight not to punch the bastard in the face. “Do you know how that man is talked about in the industry? Do you?”
“Take your fucking hands off me.” I ram my hands against his chest.
“You are being trained to take over Layton Oil. You are my son, and you will continue the Layton name in the business. I will not let you ruin everything I’ve built by dragging our name down to the filth that is Cross. You’ll end this thing you have going on with that girl.”
I laugh and rub my face. “No fucking way. You’ve lost it, old man. You’ve fucking lost it.”
His face flames red and the vein at his temple protrudes. “Layton Oil. Our name. Your position at the helm of my company one day. Is it worth losing it all to fuck that girl?”
My entire body tenses, and my words leave me as a snarl. “If you weren’t my father I would tear you up.” My fists ball at my sides. “Don’t ever speak about her like that. She’s not just a fuck, not even close.”
He laughs ominously, throwing his head back. “That’s all you know, boy, fucking women. You’re a reprobate. Fighting, getting drunk, gambling away your money. It will take everything in my power to convince a board to listen to you one day. This stops, now. You’re going to grow up, Clark, and accept your responsibilities as my eldest son.”
“What if I don’t want it?”
“You’d pick that girl you’ve known two minutes over everything you’ve always wanted, that we’ve always wanted? You’d choose her over your own family?”
I take a breath, and my shoulders sag on its release.
“I don’t see why it has to be one or the other?”
“Yes, you do. You know what people think of Cross. Cheap. Dirty. It’s not worth throwing everything away, son. You have to get your priorities right. You need to focus on what’s right for the company, and you have to start becoming a man who can lead. Focus on that, not a relationship you’ll fuck up anyway. She’ll find you out, son, all your bad habits. Then she’ll leave. Are you willing to risk all that we’ve worked towards for a few weeks with that girl before she sees what you really are?”
I hate him. I hate him because he’s right. I’m not good enough for Dayna. I’ve known it from day one. And when she finds out who I really am, she’ll leave.
Rage burns my eyes, and I charge out of the room. When I see her, laughing with Kathryn in the lounge, I feel more inadequate than ever. She’s perfect, and I’m anything but.
“We have to go,” I tell her, offering my hand.
“Can’t you stay for coffee?” Kathryn pleads. “Spencer just came home.”
I grip Dayna’s hand and pull her towards me. “Not this time. Come on.”
I drive too fast back to the city, my father’s words replaying through my head. I don’t care what shit he said about Cross being underhand or cost-cutting. I’d deal with that. I could get around that. I could marry her, make her a Layton. People would forget she was even a Cross, because she’d be mine.
