Chapter 6
“Father Figure” - Taylor Swift
Maeve
I’ve sent Pierce off to fetch my coffee like a hound. I’m confident he’ll bungle this one. There’s no way in hell he knows Madagascar vanilla syrup even exists.
Sending him to make those copies was genius on my part. I only wish I had been present to watch him squirm in front of all the interns, probably wondering if they knew he’s the CEO of one of our biggest partners.
My office door swings open, and I look up, expecting to see Pierce holding a paper cup from the espresso machine downstairs, because it’s the only coffee he could have acquired this quickly. But it’s not Pierce. It’s my father.
I immediately stand as he pushes his way into the room and shuts the door behind him. Every muscle in my body tightens, waiting for the first blow. Not physically, of course. God, what kind of man do you think he is? Not the kind to hit his children, at least not with his fists.
But the look on his face tells me right away this isn’t going to be a friendly visit—specifically, the way he mashes his mouth into a tight line. Not that any of his visits typically are, but this one in particular seems to have the distinct purpose of setting me to rights.
Lord Wilson is a big man. His suits are made of only the finest fabrics and tailored to hide his stomach.
He’s not huge, but he’s definitely put on weight in the last ten years, which only makes him seem more gigantic, thanks to his six-foot-four frame.
His dark hair is streaked with white, and his skin is perpetually brown from spending his days on the golf course.
He stops in front of my desk, arms crossed over his massive chest. Genetics did not work in my favor, because I seem to have inherited nothing from him but his ruthlessness. And now, in the presence of the scariest person in my life, it has all but disappeared.
“What was that bullshit yesterday?” he says, his voice definitely loud enough to be heard in the corridor, despite the closed door.
I tuck my lips between my teeth and shake my head. “You’ll need to be more specific.”
His eyes flash a warning. “The meeting with Luminara. It was a complete shitshow.”
Something you should know about my father: his favorite word is shit. Uses it every chance he gets.
“I’m not sure why they’re insisting on going ahead without rebranding—”
“Because it makes more sense!” He smacks the desk with his palm. “We don’t have time for a rebrand.”
“But I—”
He points a threatening finger at my face. “Have you forgotten that you represent the Wilson name everywhere you go?”
“Of course not,” I say.
“If you can’t uphold our image behind closed doors, how the fuck do you expect to be able to do it in public?” Spittle flies from his mouth and lands on his outstretched arm.
I shake my head and drop my eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it most certainly won’t, or you may be looking at a new job.”
It’s an empty threat. At least I hope it is.
It’s not like either of my siblings could do even half the job I’ve done since joining the foundation right out of uni.
Vivienne couldn’t possibly care less about what she calls “a tax shelter with a god complex.” And Bash—well, he’s Bash.
I’m not sure he’s even aware of what we do here.
He’d burn it to the ground within a week and smile the entire time.
“I’ll see to it that we come to an agreement soon.
” I don’t know how, since I’m still not willing to give in to Pierce on this one.
HavenNet does need a rebrand before launching—of that I’m certain.
But if it means appeasing my father, I might need to consider a compromise, much as I loathe the word.
It’s not winning if neither person gets their way.
It’s just a double loss, and trust me, knowing the other person didn’t get what they wanted doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
My father leans over the desk, extended finger only a few inches from my face. “You will have any conversations with Luminara’s reps out of earshot of anyone else. Do you understand?”
I swallow and nod, then edge away slightly to put a little more distance between us.
“We cannot risk this family’s reputation because you have a thing for a man who doesn’t want you.”
My good-girl facade shatters as it hits the floor. “What?”
He shifts his weight back and lowers his hand. “You’re upset because St. James isn’t interested in dating you, but you can’t bring that shit into the light.”
My mouth hangs open for several seconds before I regain my voice. “I assure you, sir, that is not what this is.” Does he actually believe what he’s saying? Worse, does anyone else? Nausea churns in my stomach. I might actually be sick.
“I don’t really care what it is, as long as you act like you deserve the name Wilson.”
“Trust me, this is strictly about HavenNet.” Pining after Pierce? Gross. Besides, I have a boyfriend. Not one my parents are aware of, but is this seriously what my father thinks of me? That I would sacrifice the project over a man?
“See to it that it remains that way,” he barks. “And do whatever they want. It’s not worth fumbling the entire deal because your ego got in the way.”
By now, my hackles are well and fully raised. I don’t care about staying on my dad’s good side anymore. “This is not about my ego. A rebrand is crucial if we want to retain support.”
He shakes his head, disgust lining his face. “You wouldn’t know what’s crucial if it smacked you between the eyes.”
I bury the pain, not willing to let him add to his running tally. “I’ve spent a lot of time going over the reports—”
“Screw the reports,” he says. “Scrap the plan and go with whatever they want. Understood?”
Before I can respond, the office door opens and Pierce enters. He takes in my father and flashes him a huge smile. “Mr. Wilson,” he says, extending his hand. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”
My father relaxes into that easygoing personality he uses with people he deems to be “above” him in the social hierarchy. The St. James family is worth billions. In fact, Pierce himself might be worth that much, not that I’ve ever bothered to find out.
“I was just telling Maeve that I think your plan to move ahead as quickly as possible is the way to go,” my father says, shaking Pierce’s hand.
“Actually,”—Pierce darts a quick glance at me—“I’ve had some time to consider everything, and I think a rebrand is the best option for the project.”