Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)
1. Indie
“At twenty-five, I would have thought you’d be over your need to embarrass this family at every turn, but now I know I need to take matters into my own hands.” Frustration laced every word my father spoke.
As business mogul and much put-upon father, Gerald Layne’s face was a mottled red since he had been ranting for over twenty minutes. I sat in my usual chair in his study, enduring my quarterly “scolding,” as Emery liked to call it. It was my parents’ chance to review every detail of my life that didn’t fit into their opulent and ruthlessly managed world—which to say was all of it.
They could make time in their busy schedules to tell me what a disappointment I was.
Lavished with such loving support, it was a wonder I did everything I could to fight back against taking my allotted place in the Layne family dynasty.
But this was a new threat.
Like a searing electrical current had been pressed to the base of my spine, my posture went rigid, despite the way my father’s visitor’s chair attempted to suck me into its depth.
Death by upholstery sounded less horrifying than whatever commands he was about to deliver.
I had expected this “visit” to be a repeat of the same lecture he’d given me ever since I moved out of the family home for college. Each conversation had the same objective: to show me what a disappointment or disgrace I was to the family name.
“Indigo, are you listening to me?” my father snapped, making me realize I hadn’t acknowledged his statement.
“Absolutely. I am a stain on the good name of Layne.” Was I rhyming now? “I’m not fulfilling my obligation to this family by making a name for myself in this world. Or, at the very least, using the considerable privilege that has been afforded to me my entire life to contribute to the collection of companies that have supported the Layne name for so many generations. I will strive to do better, Father. So, if that is all…” Maybe I could get out of there before he laid down whatever scheme he’d been cooking up to finally fix me, once and for all.
“Sit,” he spat.
I sat. His tone had changed from the exasperated tone of a man forced to acknowledge the disappointment he had for a daughter to the ice-cold one he reserved for corporate mergers where he ripped people’s livelihoods apart for profit.
“You’ve had four years to do better, and not a single thing has changed. That stops now.” He pinned me to the spot with a livid gaze, a predator daring its prey to move.
I had truly arrived at the end of my leash.
“I’m sure I don’t understand?” I kept any trace of nerves out of my tone. I didn’t want him thinking I was afraid of anything he was about to do, even if wariness had flooded my bloodstream.
I peered at my mother scrolling intensely through what was no doubt a very urgent email from her legal practice partners. That or some juicy gossip from the country club their circle belonged to. Both happenings warranted the same level of concentration.
“Mother?” My voice was almost hushed, hoping she would hear the plea in my tone and, for once, come to my rescue.
The weakest throb of hope passed through what was left of the mother-daughter attachment in my heart. She had to know what this was about. Catherine Layne let nothing in this house get past her.
A quick glance up from her phone was all I got as an acknowledgment, causing a cascade of hurt to rush into my chest.
I had felt alone in so many moments of my life, but that second of optimism that she’d act like a real mom for once made the sting of abandonment worse than I’d grown used to.
“Indigo, your mother is not going to save you. She agrees you need to be brought into line.”
A familiar numbness crept out from where it made its home in each of my body’s cells, knowing I had no recourse but to sit through whatever he was going to tell me. The pain in my chest lessened to a dull ache. My face was frozen in a placid expression.
I would get through this moment and then deal with the fallout once I was back in the safety of my apartment.
“Do not pretend that there isn’t at least a modicum of common sense in that brain of yours, Indigo. You did not earn a double degree by being an idiot. Stop being obtuse. It doesn’t become you.”
He was good at pretending silence meant tacit agreement, so he continued without regard to any answer I might have.
“Watching you insist on working a job outside our family’s corporations with absolutely no advancement, despite being vastly overqualified, has shown me you can’t be trusted to know what’s right for you. I refuse to allow you to embarrass our family any further.” He pressed his lips together in a firm line.
“But, Father, I told you. I wanted to earn my way in the world, not have things handed to me.” Why I thought it was a good idea to contradict him, I wasn’t sure.
“Oh yes, I am very aware of your well-practiced speech about ‘pulling yourself up by your bootstraps.’ That excuse has grown tired and flimsy, a mere disguise for the rebellious nature you seem to think we have forgotten wreaked havoc on our lives during your teenage years.”
I stared at him, no rehearsed reply at the ready this time. Had he seen through me so easily all these years? I’d believed my anti-nepotism speech had appealed to his sense of work ethic.
Had I been wrong?
“Here is what is going to happen next. You will resign from your current ‘position’ at that second-rate advertising company. I know the CEO of the highest-valued sports and media company in North America from my Yale days. He is going to do me the favor of taking you on board as a communication team assistant. With you working for the Tempests, unlike your current agency, it will at least spare your mother and I the humiliation of having our only child working at a firm with no chance at advancement. You’re going to get a trial period to prove that you can be useful to this family in some capacity. He’s going to ensure I’m kept apprised of your performance. There will be no allowance for simply taking up space in a multibillion-dollar enterprise.” He raised an eyebrow, his expression daring me to argue.
I sucked in a painful breath, choking on the shock that he was about to upend my entire life that I’d built in the last few years.
“Wait, wait. I’m trying to catch up here. What do you mean quit my job? I can’t just quit.” I couldn’t stop my hand from pressing against my stomach, trying to relieve the sudden ache that formed.
“You can and you will. Unless you want me to put the full weight of the legal resources I have at my disposal to challenge your grandmother’s will. I know you used the money she left you at eighteen for school but have otherwise left the remaining token amount untouched. I have the ability to drag this out for years. Do you think you can win if I take you to court?”
Had he somehow found out about my plans to start a nonprofit for children in Amado? I hadn’t even started any of the formalized paperwork! I’d only gotten some initial legal advice so far.
Fear pushed through the thick blanket of emotional numbness that had settled over me.
As much as I liked to think that he would be more afraid for the reputation of the family, there was a part of me that believed he would actually do this. He could probably get the courts to seal the proceedings and figure out how to come out on top somehow.
I hadn’t played this game with them for many years to walk away with nothing. I wanted to make a real change with this money. I was eleven months away from properly getting started.
It physically pained me to admit he’d won this round. The consolation prize would be that I could be free of their control this time next year.
Just do this one last thing. Then you’ll be free.
“Fine. I understand. Where am I going?” I managed to force out the words between my lips, despite how my jaw wanted to lock around my clenched molars.
I hunched back in my chair with my arms crossed, waiting to hear my father’s plan that would put my life on hold for however long he demanded.