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More confirmation of why he’s a fuck up. He spends hours a day in the gym, practicing six different versions of martial arts, while also double-fisting booze at ten in the morning. Complete contradictions just like him.
After a long swallow emptying half the golden liquid in the first container, he acknowledges me. “What’re you doing?”
“Leaving.”
His laughter as well as his footsteps follow behind me as I stride down the hallway toward my Dad’s office. The last thing I want to do is engage in any conversation with him about Seraphina.
“Might as well tell me or Mary will.”
I know better. The woman definitely likes me more than him. I don’t cause her any trouble unlike this slob. “No. She won’t.”
“Stop being a dick and just tell me. It’s about your new girlfriend, isn’t it?”
The termgirlfriendsounds childish at my age, but I still like the label anyway. Until even better when she’s my fiancée and then my wife.
For now, I won’t give anything away especially to him. “Your jealousy is pathetic. You might need to talk to someone about that.”
His grating howl bounces off the walls. He thinks he’s gotten to me.
“Well, maybe when I meet your girl, she’ll help me by more than just talking to me.”
I pause but don’t turn around. Not only do I want to avoid showing him he affected me, I also have to maintain my control. Now that I’m the boss, I can’t let stupid petty things or people bother me with their nonsense.
He grunts at me. Well aware he wants to fight, I ignore his taunt.
For now.
Later he won’t be so lucky. “Meet me in the gym at four.”
I can kick his ass before I spend the rest of the evening with my angel.
“Okay. Can I fuck around with our guests until then?”
Sometimes he does just enough to get back on my good side. This is definitely one of those times.
I don’t have another meeting until eleven, so I nod. “I’ll meet you there.”
He whoops from my participation. There’s nothing he loves more than an audience to his brutality. Sick, sick bastard.
Creepy whistling until the door to the garage slams shut. He’ll drive like a maniac to the dungeon.
At my father’s office I wait outside the thick, black door. Soundproof to protect my mother from the distasteful aspects of our business. The bittersweet sensation burns my chest whenever an unexpected reminder of her pops into my head.
When the lock clicks open, I shove down the emotion and force my game face on for my Dad. He mopes enough for the both of us. I don’t want to add to his melancholy.
I nod in deference to him before sitting in one of the chairs opposite his desk. Surprisingly, he looks cheerful in an annoyingly smug sort of way.
Not ones for pleasantries, he jumps in. “I’ve never seen you so interested in what we have for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Anyone else, I would respondfuck you. However, my father deserves respect. Besides, I’ll let him enjoy teasing me since him goading me has improved his mood. “I’ve never had a girl like Seraphina.”
My candor shocks him. Good. I like surprising him.
He leans back in his seat. “Tell me about her.”
Doubt sounds in his voice. I get his disillusionment. The girls I’ve fucked in the past never meant enough to me to bring home. He doesn’t want to be disappointed that this one isn’t either.
Now it’s my turn to be smug. “Don’t you already know from London?”
