27. Ambrose
Ambrose
Thunder boomed outside, interrupting me from my work.
I stared at the bank’s white ceiling while rain pounded on the roof.
This storm moved in overnight, and it had been raining since early this morning.
I felt bad that Zeth left my room right as the bottom fell out.
He was no doubt soaked when he got home.
I’d rather think about Zeth in wet clothes, but I glanced back at my invoice instead. It was the thirtieth one I’d written so far today, and the headache pounding in my head wasn’t helping the work go by faster. I wished I were in my bed with a good book and Zeth curled up beside me.
I was still training for a higher position in the mornings, but in the afternoons, I continued my quiet desk work before delivering mail.
Soon, I would have to face my father and tell him Zeth and I were courting.
I also would have to tell him I didn’t want to own the bank.
My uncertainty about how he would respond to either of those terrified me.
One step at a time, Amby.
As I began another invoice, I lifted my head to see Selena Peters in front of me doing the same thing I was, but more efficiently.
If only Zeth could work here too. He’d be good at handling loans and estate sales.
I could ask my father if there was an opening for Zeth, but I didn’t want to push my luck with him.
“You’re adding too many zeros.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned in my seat. Marigold stood there in a brown dress with a raised eyebrow. Looking back at the invoice, I realized I had written out one thousand and fifty instead of one hundred and fifty. I crumpled it up and started over.
“Ambrose Heath Somerset,” Marigold huffed and crossed her arms. “What is it with you lately? Mistakes happen, but you’ve made many of them this week.”
I glanced at Selena. She paused at her desk and looked slightly to the side, as if curious about our conversation, before turning back to her desk again.
Gritting my teeth, I made sure my numbers were accurate as I answered Marigold, “I’ve been distracted with all the events we’ve had lately.”
She leaned down to whisper, “Distracted with events, or with Zeth?”
My eyes darted around the small area, but no one nearby reacted, so I got to my feet to stand beside Marigold. She stood slightly taller than me in her heels. “I’m done with these, but I will go over them in your office before sending them to the mailroom.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“ Not here.” My voice was firm, and she regarded me with surprise.
I didn’t want details of my life filtering out to whoever was within earshot.
Zeth, Annabelle, Millie, and I all happened to be the subject of gossip lately.
First with what happened at Chapel and now with the salon.
I’d already endured enough stares this morning.
It would only be a matter of time before my father found out about us.
Marigold gave me a stern look before she nodded to follow her.
As soon as I stepped inside her small office and the door closed, she didn’t spare a moment to rip into me, “Father is putting faith in you to run this bank one day, and you’ve proved you can’t handle anything beyond simple tasks and delivering mail.
And Henry told me you’re putting little effort into training. ”
I placed my hands in my pockets. “I’m not cut out for managing the bank. You know it, I know it.”
“You will inherit this bank one day, whether you like it or not, and you need to show everyone here that you will carry on the Somerset and Sons legacy. The way things are going, you’re more likely to sell it to the first person who offers to buy it.”
“And you’re right!”
Marigold blinked at me, clearly not expecting such an outburst. But I was tired. Of her unrealistic expectations. Of Father’s plans for me. I always did as they said and tried to do better. I would never be better. It was time to tell her how I really felt about this whole thing.
Taking in a deep breath, I fixed my gaze on her and admitted, “I don’t want Somerset and Sons. I never have. You’re right, if I acquire it, I would sell it. I’m not a banker. I can’t own something this big.” I took her hands in mine. “But I know you can.”
“Me?” Marigold gave a little laugh, her face faltering slightly. “You forget I’m not the son, Amby.”
“You deserve this bank more than I do.”
This struck her speechless for a moment. She pulled her hands away to straighten her skirt. “As much as I want to inherit this bank one day, I don’t think it will happen. Father is very bent on carrying on Somerset… and Sons .”
She was in a similar predicament as mine. She wanted this bank, yet she couldn’t have it because it wasn’t in our father’s plans. How did I never see her side?
“Marigold, Father knows you’re the finest, hardest worker he has. You should tell him you want to be the manager.”
“And what makes you think he’d listen to me?” She crossed her arms. “I’ve tried. Father ignores whatever he doesn’t want to deal with. That’s as far as I’ve gotten with him.”
“If you could just—”
“I can’t do this right now. Go.” Marigold opened the door and gestured with her hand for me to leave.
But I wasn’t done yet.
My sister was closing her office door when I spun on my heel and flung my hand out to stop it.
“Wait. I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I mean it when I say you deserve this bank.
More than I ever could. Despite being an awful brother to you in the past…
I do look up to you. I want you to know that. ”
Marigold raised her chin, trying to stay reserved, and I swear her eyes watered. “Thank you, Amby. Now, excuse me…”
It was best to let her be, so I removed my hand to let her gently close the door.
I wasn’t sure if Marigold considered my words or not.
Regardless, at least I had said them, and that made me feel a little better.
Leaving her door, I collected the invoices on my desk to take to the mailroom.
Once I dropped them off, I came back to the main room and stopped in my tracks when a familiar, handsome man who woke up in my bed just this morning walked into the bank.
Zeth and Millie approached a desk with Charles, who handled requests to sell land or homes. Were they here to sell the laundry? Zeth did say my father gave a low offer. Was he going to take it anyway?
Fuck, this headache was getting worse. I put a hand to my head and shuffled away to my desk, not wanting to disturb Zeth and Millie. I’d wait until they were done doing whatever it was they came here for.
My hands began shaking for some reason, and I was so distracted that I ran right into Selena’s desk. She gasped at me in surprise.
“Sorry,” I said, picking up a few papers that had fallen before moving to my chair.
By now, I was garnering attention from a few of my colleagues.
Their amused faces glanced from me to Zeth and Millie.
I heard Robert Wilson mutter low to someone about Annabelle Winters courting the youngest Washer sibling with a laugh.
Then he looked in my direction and narrowed his eyes.
Shit.
I propped my elbow up on the desk and covered my eyes so I couldn’t see anyone else staring at me as I started working on… There was nothing else on my desk to work on. Instead, I took an envelope and scribbled out a random name and address with my pen, looking as if I was working.
I did this for several minutes, until I finally chanced a look up.
Marigold stood next to Zeth now, who had gotten up from his seat. He looked pissed, and from the disgruntled expression on Charles’ face, something was happening. I wondered for a moment if I should go over, but then my father stepped up to lead Zeth and Millie to his office.
I exhaled slowly. Whatever had happened, my father would fix it, I hoped. But that didn’t stop my head from pounding, this time with questions.
Zeth told me he wanted to sell the laundry for us to have a place to settle, but how much money would the laundry bring?
It wasn’t Zeth that needed to try and find us a home.
If anything, I should be the one supporting us.
If Zeth sold the laundry, where would he live until he found a new home?
And if no one hired him for work, would he leave Everdeen to find work elsewhere?
He told me he’d think about living at the laundry, but he seemed to have made up his mind about selling. Who was I to stop that?
“Hello, dear brother.”
I jolted in my seat and looked up to see Emiline standing before me, holding a basket. How many sisters were going to show up unannounced today?
“Em.” I nodded at her. My eyes cut over to see my father’s office door close, right as a low rumble of thunder vibrated my desk. “Did you walk over in this storm?”
“Anna gave me a ride over in her car. She was at the shop for a Founders Day dress. Have you eaten yet?”
The last thing I wanted right now was food as so many thoughts swirled around me.
“No, I’m… just finishing up here.” I set aside the envelope with ten addresses on it and did my best to smile at her. “Did you bring lunch for me?”
“I did. Arthur made a chicken and rice casserole. We had enough left over, I thought I’d bring you some.”
“So, he’s making casseroles for you now?”
A blush tinted Emiline’s cheeks. “He’s been doing a lot of things for me lately. He actually… asked me to attend the theatre with him on Sunday. There’s a play we both like.”
“Really?”
Emiline nudged me and teased, “Only as friends.”
“I know that’s not true. Arthur’s liked you for a long time, so when he kisses you at the end of your night out together, do let me know how it went.
” Well, there went my oath to Arthur, but in this case, it felt right to let it be known.
No need to let Emiline go the whole night thinking Arthur is just being friendly.