53. Then
FIFTY-THREE
then
“You wanted to talk?”
Barnes caught me on my way from the kitchen to the dining room, informing me that my father had issued a summons. He “required” my “audience”—or so his British director of security claimed.
Minutes later, I hovered on the threshold of his study, pissed. I didn’t have the patience for his workaholic bullshit, especially after telling him I’d be taking the entire day off to enjoy my final Thanksgiving. All I wanted was to have a piece of pie and then whisk Ella home to spend the rest of the night with her. Naked .
He waved me in without looking up from the document in front of him. “Come, sit.”
Clenching my jaw, I stalked to the overstuffed armchair across from his desk. As soon as I settled in, he faced me, revealing a determined expression. “I’ve made a decision about the business.”
“Dad,” I started. “I thought I told you that I wasn’t doing this today. Ella and Mom are waiting for us?—”
Without a word, my father held up a piece of paper. My piece of paper. A page from my notebook. One of my drawings.
“Ella.” We said her name at the same moment—him as an explanation, me as an expletive.
Betrayal hit me square in the chest. My fingernails dug into the arms of the leather chair. “That’s trash,” I told him, trying not to grit my teeth. “She shouldn’t have shown it to you.”
My father smoothed the sketch out in front of him. “It is trash,” he agreed. “All wrinkled and creased. I’ll need you to draw up a proper one before I can present it.”
Everything inside me seized. “Pardon?”
“That parcel we assembled in Midtown should be a perfect spot, don’t you think?” he carried on, still not looking up. “We’re slated for demolition in March. That only gives us three months to revise the plans and draw up the specs for this building. I expect the materials will be costlier than anticipated, but we’ll spare no expense to make it just right, of course. As our headquarters, it will serve as a showpiece for our clients and the rest of this city.”
Finally, his eyes leaped to mine. “That is—if you’ll design it.”
“But how—what—” I swallowed, shoving down a rising tide of elation, not daring to hope I’d heard him correctly—“I’m supposed to be training to take over your job. How can I do that and design a building in Midtown Manhattan?”
He crossed his arms and shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. But your girlfriend seems entirely convinced that you can do it. She said she believes that all you need is a chance. She showed me this sketch to prove it to me. ”
My heart thudded unevenly. Ellie . My God, what had she done ?
My throat dried. “She said all of that?”
He nodded. “Yes. I warned her that the workload might jeopardize your relationship, but she seemed quite determined. She asked me if there was anyone who could help you with some of your executive duties to give you more time to function in a creative capacity. So, I’m going to call your uncle.”
I thought my head might explode. I had only been in the kitchen for twenty minutes. How the hell did Ella manage to turn my entire life around?
“Uncle Ted ?” I guffawed, incredulous. “Dad, he tried to embezzle company funds. You almost had to have him arrested. What the fuck are you thinking?”
Instead of taking the bait and fighting with me, my father simply frowned. “I’m thinking that I’m dying. And you’re my son. And I love you.”
The thickness narrowing my throat constricted. My eyes burned. “Dad...”
He interrupted. “I had no idea you were this talented or this invested in architecture. I thought it was a passing phase. If having a hand in the creative side of our company will make this better for you the way Ella thinks it will, then I’m going to call Ted in to help you manage the business side of things.”
It was an insane idea. “We can’t give him any actual power, though, right?”
Dad smirked. “We don’t have to. I’m not dead yet. But he’s the only one who knows the company the way I do. He’ll act as an adviser. And maybe we can even bring your cousin in as another support. You know, I never liked that he wasn’t part of the business. My grandfather started Stryker & Sons for all of us. Perhaps, eventually, you and Daniel will run things together.”
I hadn’t seen my cousin Daniel since his Columbia graduation and subsequent defection to Europe. He’d been gone almost two years, backpacking and posting pictures on Instagram. But, despite his questionable Photoshop tendencies, I had to admit that the thought of having someone else in my corner sounded like a huge relief.
“We don’t have to decide tonight,” my father went on. “I just wanted to tell you what I was thinking and ask for a formal rendering of this piece. Can you have it ready by Monday?”
I was trying—really hard—not to get excited. Not until it was a done deal… Still, I found myself grinning. “Yes. Monday.”
He nodded tersely, like he hadn’t just handed me my dream on a silver platter. “Good. You better get back downstairs, then. I’m sure dessert is set out. I’ll be right behind you.”
Dazed, I wandered to the door before he stopped me in my tracks once again. “Son.”
My stomach clenched. “Yeah?”
He glanced up at me, completely serious. “If you don’t marry that girl, you’re an idiot.”