Chapter 11 Mac
Mac
Iwork late every night Monday through Wednesday in preparation for my father’s arrival on Thursday.
Nothing can be forgotten or a miss for his visit.
He’s like a bloodhound and can sniff that kind of thing out, and the blame will automatically fall on me, no matter what it is.
I’m just fortunate that he gave me a heads-up before this visit.
I know the only reason I got one was because he wanted to know if I was doing as he told me to and finding a serious relationship.
I was hoping to have more time with Eliza before he did one of these visits so I could hopefully solidify some sort of relationship with her before feeding her to the wolves.
The second I mentioned dinner, though, she started to shut down and zoned out.
She didn’t notice when I said her name the first time.
It wasn’t until I took her hand that she finally came back.
I’m unsure of how dinner will go. I just hope that my father doesn’t say or do anything that has Liz pulling out of our deal.
I walk into the office at seven before most people are in the office, wanting to finish a few things before my father arrives. But I’ve been at my desk for only thirty minutes before my father walks into my office, not even bothering to knock.
“Father,” I say as I stand, holding my hand out for him to shake. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”
“Mackenzie. I wanted to jump right in.”
“Did you get settled in your hotel?”
“No, I’ll head there later. Why don’t you update me on the progress of the Blackwood project?”
I’m not surprised my father wants to jump straight into business. It’s his default. His business is his baby and his number one priority.
We sit in my office for nearly five hours going over files before my assistant interrupts us to remind me of a meeting. My father tells me to go and that he’ll keep reviewing files while I’m gone. I nod, buttoning my suit jacket as I make my way out of my office.
I take a deep breath the second my feet hit the pavement outside the office. My father is the reason I work the way I do. He doesn’t understand moderation or breaks, and it quickly became a philosophy I adopted as a way to fit the image and mold my father wanted me to.
I’m pleasantly surprised when my phone buzzes with a text from Eliza.
Eliza
Did your father arrive?
Mac
Yes. He came straight to the office.
Eliza
Workaholic?
That pulls a chuckle from me. I have a feeling Eliza will be able to peg my father the second she meets him.
Mac
Of course.
Eliza
You think he’ll manage to leave the office for dinner tomorrow?
Mac
An opportunity to ensure I’m doing what I’m told will never go missed.
She thumbs-ups the message, and I know she’s anxious about tomorrow even though she may not say it.
I stare at our conversation, unsure of what else to say but wanting to continue talking to her.
When I arrive outside of the building where my meeting is, I shove my phone in my pocket while thinking of an excuse to talk to her later.
Eliza smooths her already pristine skirt the entire ride to the restaurant.
I reach over and stop her movements, giving her hand a squeeze, and her eyes immediately find the side of my face.
I glance at her quickly, offering her a reassuring smile and say, “It’s going to be fine. I’m the one he’s worried about.”
“Meeting a boyfriend’s”—she puts boyfriend in finger quotes—“parent is a big deal. Your father is expecting us to be in the start of a serious relationship. One that’s at least serious enough for him to give you the position of CEO. There’s a lot of pressure on tonight.”
“Eliza, he knows we only just started dating, don’t worry, there won’t be any big questions about the future tonight. We’ve got a least a month before those come,” I try to jest, and her head whips to me. Maybe right now isn’t the time for jokes with Eliza.
We’re the first to arrive at the restaurant, and the host takes us to our table.
I pull a chair out for Eliza, and she smiles at me softly as I help her move her chair in and take the spot beside her.
I made sure we took the side of the table that faces the front door, so we’re not surprised when my father walks in.
As he approaches the table, I stand and Eliza follows suit.
I hold my hand out for my father, and he shakes it.
His eyes dart to Eliza’s outstretched hand for a second before he finally shakes it too.
“Father, this is my girlfriend, Eliza. Eliza, this is my father, Reginald Carrington.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,”
“Likewise.”
We take our seats, and our server almost immediately appears at our table with the bottle of wine I ordered, pouring two glasses. As she goes to pour a third for my father, he shakes his head.
“I’ll take a Tanqueray No. 10 and Tonic.”
The server nods and quickly leaves the table as my father directs his attention back to Eliza and me. Eliza pulls her shoulders back under his gaze, as though preparing herself for battle.
“Eliza, how did you meet Mackenzie?” I watch the way her eyebrows raise slightly. I haven’t told her my full name, I don’t use it often, but my father insists on calling me by it.
“We met through his hockey team. I’m friends with the wives of some of his teammates.”
My father processes that, I’m sure choosing his next words carefully.
He hates that I play as an adult. He thinks it’s a ridiculous waste of my time, but the fact that I could have found a potentially serious relationship because of it may mean he’ll verbalize his distaste for the choice less. “I see. So you met at a get-together?”
She takes a sip of her wine and shakes her head. “We met at a game.”
That seems to pique his interest. “A game?”
She smiles softly and nods. “My friend started seeing an old friend who played on the team with her brother so we went as a group. We’ve been going when we can ever since.”
“Eliza and her friends have been coming to games for eighteen months,” I add to give my father more of a timeline. I’m hoping that knowing we’ve known each other for a while will make a serious relationship developing quickly more believable to him.
“It’s been fun. It’s something new for me. I was never into hockey growing up.”
My father chooses to move on from this topic by asking Eliza, “And what do you do for work?”
“I’m an accountant at a firm downtown.”
Eliza is obviously someone who can take care of herself, but my father also believes in very traditional roles when it comes to relationships.
It’s probably a huge reason why he’s pushing me to be in a serious one before he gives me the CEO position.
He believes a woman should take care of her boyfriend or husband.
It’s not my view at all. I’d rather someone who is independent and has a life outside of a relationship.
Individuality is important in a relationship, and I’m an adult who has been taking care of myself for most of my life.
I don’t need someone to start doing that now at thirty-six years old.
Luckily my father keeps the rest of the conversation very surface level.
I purposefully don’t let it go much beyond that.
I don’t talk to my father much about my life outside of work, and he’s not entitled to any of Eliza’s.
She’s far too good for him to know anything more about her than he absolutely needs to.
I don’t think he does anything that would send Eliza running for the hills.
We shake hands outside the restaurant, and I take Eliza home.