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“I trust your trip was successful,” I said.
Asking was the polite thing to do, after all. I already knew it was successful. My dad scooped up numerous properties when one of his biggest competitors was forced to sell after his name was embroiled in heavy scandals—the legal kind that wouldn’t go away quickly or quietly.
It was a last-ditch effort to save face and would cost him mightily.
“I’ve never liked him,” I continued as if my dad was actually engaging in conversation. “He came off nice, but underneath, you could tell he was a complete asshole.”
Dad raised an eyebrow.
“Do you remember when he came into the office a couple of summers ago?”
There was a slight incline to my dad’s chin, so I took that as a yes.
“He walked past the conference room where I was working on some valuations with one of our interns.” I sighed slowly as I immersed myself in the memory. “Friendly at first. Like a sweet grandpa. Then he leaned and told me I had a great fucking ass, and if I wanted it taken care of, I should come and work for him instead.”
A vein throbbed in my father’s temple. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
“The moment was mine to deal with, not yours. Besides, I didn’t want to risk him getting a volatile reaction out of you when that was likely his whole point. So I looked him in the eye and told him that if he didn’t back away from me, I’d shove a ballpoint pen between his legs. After that, I informed him I’d happily take his corner office once we’d dismantled his business.”
Dad’s eyebrow arched slowly. “A bit violent for my tastes, but I can’t fault you for that.”
Silence filled his study, and it was agonizing.
Disappointing my father was never usually worth the relief I felt when the bubbling pressure of my momentary rebellion eased.
He was all I had.
This room, the quiet, stilted room, was my entire family.
In my lap, my fingers twisted briefly, a visible weakness that slipped through, and I let out a deep breath before stilling them in my lap again.
“So,” I drawled, “you’re mad at me.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his gaze lowered back to his desk. “I’m not sure you’ve left me much choice, Ivy. This pairing between you and Ethan not only made sense because we trust him and his family implicitly, but the Lowells are our biggest investor and now sit on the board. How am I supposed to feel about you reneging on a deal that’s been in place for ten years?”
“It was a deal you made without me and Ethan getting a true say in the matter,” I argued. “I was fifteen when you told me about it. Of course I didn’t think about the ramifications of it then. I was a child. So was he.”
“You had a crush on him,” Dad said. “Followed him around like a puppy dog whenever he was here. I was hardly forcing you to marry someone vile.”
My hands couldn’t stay still anymore, and I swept my hand over my face. “A crush for a single year, and it was hardly reciprocated. Ethan is relieved, Dad. I spoke to him as soon as I got home from Portland. He doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him.”
Dad scoffed. “Please. As if he could find anything to complain about. You’re beautiful—far more attractive than he is—and smart and successful. You have a flawless pedigree.”
“I’m not a broodmare,” I said, my voice taking on a hot edge. “My pedigree isn’t up for debate, nor is it consequential to this conversation. I would think that my father would want me to choose a life partner because I love them. Not because they benefit our business.”
“You’re getting emotional, Ivy,” he said dismissively. “This is why we make agreements like the one with Ethan. You’d have a smart, successful husband who would be loyal to you, and both our futures would be set. Your children, your grandchildren would want for nothing.”
My throat tightened briefly, and I used every shred of energy to keep my emotions bottled up. Locked tight. Nothing able to escape.
“You and Mom loved each other.”
His eyes darted briefly to the painting of Mom on his study wall. “We did. Eventually. When I met your mother, she’d just moved here from a small town and wanted nothing more than to escape that kind of life.”
It was a story I’d heard a hundred times. The only story he was willing to repeat as I grew up.
She got a job working at the receptionist desk at the firm where my father was slowly working his way up the ladder. Then she moved up as well. Until they shared an office, and a vision for what they wanted out of life. My dad asked her to marry him after one date. One kiss. Because he knew she was exactly what he needed.
Together, they built an empire and lived happily ever after.
