Chapter 36
I get very little sleep.
Maybe it’s her scent on my sheets. Or the silhouette of art frames on the walls of a darkened room—pieces she picked out without ever knowing all of them were being bought for her. Or, maybe, it’s the sickening boulder of guilt inside me.
I don’t know where she is.
My mind runs through all the different options in my head. A hotel. Most likely. Her friend from work. A possibility. The friend she made in Pilates class whose name I can’t remember. Not very probable.
On a plane back to New York.
Hopefully, never.
When I rise in the morning, it’s to a pounding headache and a mouth that tastes like ash. I go for a run, shower, and head to work. Contron’s London office is modest compared to New York, tasteful and not ostentatious, and I have always enjoyed it. Liked it from the first time I stepped foot inside the old stone building.
Right now, it feels like a corporate prison.
I can’t focus on the screen and my emails. Miss whatever my assistant had said so many times that she finally told me she’d write it out for me instead.
I text Harper. Again.
This time, I keep it short. If she’s angry, she needs time to cool down, I think. It seems reasonable. At least, I’m hopeful that’s it.
Nate: Please let me know you’re okay and you found someplace safe to live.
She doesn’t answer. Not until after lunch, when I’ve already decided that the only way to resolve things is to go to her art gallery as she’s leaving work, like some kind of stalker.
Harper: I’m fine. Don’t worry.
Right. Easy. Just don’t worry. But right now it’s the only thing I can do, and the worry lives right alongside guilt and frustration. What else could I have done? See her suffer with Dean and not stepped in? That feels like an impossible choice.
Maybe it felt too serious. Maybe that’s why she’d reacted the way she did. Things with us had gotten deep over the past couple of weeks, and she’d been single only for a few months prior.
I run a hand down the side of my face. Fuck. I can’t have blown this chance.
When my phone rings around 2 p.m., I can’t stop the thrill. But it’s not her. It’s another name on my screen that I’m distinctly less enthused to see.
But I answer. The habit is deeply ingrained.
“Hello, Dad.”
He doesn’t bother with a hello back. He asks if I’ve found someone to replace Knudsen, and I report on the few options Alec and I have already started to work on. Like I did a few days ago.
I’m only a few sentences in when he cuts in, making clear the real reason he called. It comes out as an accusation.
“Neither your brother nor sister have made any plans this summer to come out to the new house in the Hamptons.”
I rub my temple with my free hand. “I think they have other plans.”
“I bought that house a few months ago to have a spot closer to the city for this exact reason.”
“You said the reason was the timing in the market. You’ll be able to flip that property in a few years when the housing prices recover and interest rates drop.”
“Yes, well, that is also true,” he says. There’s no lessening of gruffness in his tone. “Talk to them. Tell them I’m expecting at least a long weekend with the entire family gathered there.”
“I think you can invite them yourself.”
“They’ll be more receptive if it comes from you.”
“No,” I say.
There’s a brief silence. “What?”
“No, I think you should tell them yourself.”
“Nate,” Dad says, his tone implying that I’m being dense. “Talk to your siblings.”
“Do you think there might be a reason they’re not talking to you?”
“I spoke to Alec just yesterday,” he says sharply.
“Yes, but did you really speak?”
“I don’t need this attitude from you, too.”
I roll my eyes. A bad habit picked up from Harper. “You’ve offended and hurt both Connie and Alec with your attitude toward their life decisions. Their partners. None of us needs to put up with that from you, either.”
“I’m your father.”
“Yes, exactly. You’re our dad. You raised us in your image, and you brought us up to be tough, principled, and not to take no for an answer. Can you really be angry at Connie and Alec for standing their ground? That’s what you taught them to do, after all. Be proud of them instead.”
There’s absolute silence on the other end. But the line is still active, and frustration keeps me talking.
“You also taught us to be foot soldiers for Contron. Well, you got your wish, and all three of us work well together to keep this company growing. How many corporate successions are successful, huh? But you managed to pass Contron on to the next generation without a hitch. Now get to know us.”
“I know my children,” he says.
“You know us somewhat, yeah. But not as adults or what our own interests are outside of Contron. Come to the table without expectations. And apologize to both Connie and Alec.”
“I will never ad?—”
“Admit defeat, I know. That’s your mantra.” I look up at the ceiling and the inlaid lights. This conversation is draining the last bit of energy out of me, and I had almost none to begin with today. “But sometimes you need to compromise to make deals. You have done that on occasion in the past. So compromise here, Dad, and get to know your children. We don’t need your heavy-handed guidance anymore.”
He makes a deep humming sound into the speaker. But he hasn’t hung up yet.
“I can’t be the go-between between you and your other children forever. Solve this, and maybe, maybe, we can move forward. Just respect their choices. They’ve made them as people you fostered them to become. Bold, smart, and strategic. I have to go now. I need to keep the company you built running.”
I hang up. Something I haven’t done to my dad in… I can’t remember the last time.
One of the reasons my siblings aren’t spending time with Dad this summer is because they are coming to London. I didn’t bother telling him that Connie and her husband, as well as Alec with his girlfriend and kids, are arriving tomorrow. They are taking the company jet for four days of sightseeing and the kind of family time we’ve never had before.
I can’t remember the last time Alec took his kids on a vacation.
I can’t remember the last time he took a vacation.
Just a few days ago, I was thinking of how to introduce the idea to Harper. I wanted her to meet them, but worried it might be too soon.
Seems like I don’t need to worry about any of that now.
Her gallery event is tomorrow night. I know how much work she’s put into it, how important it is to her, and I planned to be there. To watch her impress her colleagues and guests, and to see her shine like I know only she can.
But now…
Showing up might ruin it for her. And I’m not entirely sure how I managed to screw things up already, but I’ll be damned if I make her feel uncomfortable on the most important day of her career thus far.
I contact my assistant instead. Send one hundred pink peonies to the Sterling Gallery tomorrow night.
Maybe I shouldn’t be there. But it won’t stop me from making her night a little more special regardless.