Chapter 31
31
I’VE BEEN KNOWN TO DABBLE IN THE OCCASIONAL COMPLEX REDS, SIR
“ H i Sweetie!” My mother squeals excitedly as she opens her front door looking impeccable as always.
“Hey mom,” I hug her, “you remember Riley?” I say awkwardly while tipping my head as casual as I can considering I had just slept with the man behind me.
“Sweetie, I’m old but not senile. It’s been four days, not forty years since I met him.” She lets out a soft chuckle as she pulls Riley in for a hug. “It’s good to see you again dear, please come in.” She steps aside holding the door open for us.
Walking into this house after three years of distant communication feels different than I thought it’d be. I thought I’d feel like a guest after so long since the last time I was here, it was for a family dinner where everything had gone to shit with my father. Instead, the cream and white rug at the entrance that’s been there for the last decade still lies at my feet. The same mahogany entryway table my mother picked out at a vintage furniture store on one of our weekend getaways to the mountain when I was eight still stands pro udly to the right of the door. On top of that is the same old hand carved wooden bowl where keys are stowed for as long as I can remember and next to that is the white painted terracotta vase she talked my father into buying from a street vendor the summer after she bought the table with this week's fresh flower picks. Everything remained the same. Everything that makes this place a home welcomes me back with open arms.
I let myself fall into the familiarity of home.
The moment of reminiscing is interrupted with the clearing of my mothers throat. I follow her as she threads her arm through Riley’s, pulling him through the formal living room and into the kitchen as she explains the pot roast she made for dinner…like pot roast isn’t one of the most common meals made in America.
“You must be Riley.” I hadn’t made it into the kitchen yet but that distinct interrogative baritone voice lets me know my father is ready to pounce with questions.
“Yes, Sir. I am.” Riley offers my father his hand.
I enter the kitchen as my father takes a second too long eyeing Riley up and down before accepting his hand. Even as he attempts to scowl I can’t help but notice everything about him. He looks well. His coloring is normal. A man that usually wears a full suit and tie twenty four seven is now sitting at the island with a plain cream polo and dark blue jeans. I exhale with relief knowing he’s here and healthy.
“Hi daddy.” I walk over to kiss him on the cheek. “Be nice.” I warn him before rounding the island to join my mother near the oven.
“I’m always nice! Isn’t that right sweetheart?” My father glances at my mother waiting for her to respond. She’s too busy pulling the pot roast out of the oven to hear what he had ask ed.
“Riley, you drink wine?” He asks, changing the subject.
Riley looks over my father’s shoulder at me and grins. “I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional complex reds, sir.”
I want to bury my head in whatever pillow I can find to smother the heat rising in my cheeks. As a distraction, I opt to help my mother with the pot roast to remove myself from Riley’s mischievous grin.
“I don’t know what the hell a complex wine is. Honestly, not a wine man myself but the wife uncorked this a few minutes ago and said it ‘ goes with pot roast ’ so here I am.” He lifts a wine glass in a cheers salute. “When this is done I’ll show you where I keep the good scotch.” He pours Riley a glass and hands it to him.
“My preference is scotch actually, Sir.” My father clinks his glass against Riley’s in agreement.
I stare at the two of them finding common ground, when I realize what’s actually in his glass. “Daddy, are you supposed to be drinking? You were just released from the hospital. Did the doctor clear you for alcohol?”
My father looks at me with contempt. “Pfft. I’m home. I’m resting. I’ll be damned if I can’t have a drink now and again.” With that, my father gestures towards the door and Riley follows.
The two of them head off towards the back patio, most likely so he can show off his latest built-in grill my mother was sure would never be used. I’m not sure if I should be nervous that Riley is now at the mercy of my father’s interrogation without me present but I figure Riley can handle himself well enough. I hope .
“What are you thinking about dear?” My mother asks, eyeing me curiously. “Your father won’t bite him. He’s too w eak to inflict much damage in any case right now.” She chuckles to herself.
“If you say so, but if I hear screaming I’m pushing you out to handle the fall out first.”
“Fine. While we have some peace and quiet. Tell me about your first day.” My mother asks, swirling around the wine in her glass, one hip braced against the island.
I’m not sure how to answer that. The whole day was a whirlwind. I had so many questions, a laundry list of doubts, and a slew of people that looked at me like I had four eyes the entire day. How am I supposed to divulge any of this to the woman who’s never been rattled by anything her whole life.
“It was ok.” Seems like an appropriate answer. Unable to make eye contact with her.
My mother places down her glass and wraps her arms around me in such a motherly way. “Oh dear. You don’t have to lie to me. It’s a lot to take in especially under the circumstances. It’s ok to not be ok.”
I don’t know how long I stay in her arms. It’s like I’m transported to a younger version of myself. I would get overwhelmed by the tasks I’d try to excel at and she would hold me like this, the rhythm of her breathing in tandem with my own, her gentle hands stroking the length of my hair. She wouldn’t tell me everything would be ok, she wouldn’t tell me what I was feeling was invalid. She would just wait. She’d stay like this until I was ready to let go, when I was ready to take on the world again.
I slowly release her and her hands move to cup my face. “You are extraordinary. You’re meant for so much. Remember that you’re allowed to feel whatever you need to in the process, but never let that stop you from reaching your full potential.” She leans in to give me the most gentle ki ss on my forehead. “Now, go grab the boys. Dinner’s ready.”
The next couple of hours pass by with as much normalcy as one can expect considering the shitstorm that is my life. My very fake boyfriend is making friends with my father over a few glasses of scotch. My father’s sudden retirement and health concerns are at the forefront of my mind. My new role in the company is causing my brain to sort through a million things at any given time. And my mother’s new found annoyance taking a front seat during tonight’s dinner with the presence of my father home all day seemingly bored out of his mind looking for her company.
Despite said shitstorm, I’m enjoying the company of the four of us tonight. The quiet before the storm they say. I have a few more days left before the announcement of my takeover as C.E.O. A few more days before my life goes on display for the world to see and judge.
Can she handle it?
She’s no Daniel Thatcher.
She’s just a child.
All very legitimate concerns of course for anyone that has their livelihood or their retirement savings wrapped up in my success I suppose. I need to be prepared for the criticism and prepare to push it out of my mind before I actually start to believe it.
I can’t believe any of it. I need to succeed. There is no other option.
“Wouldn’t you agree?” Riley nudges me with an elbow where we sit on the sofa in the family room.
“Yes. Huh?” I answer and ask b efore I have a chance to process what was even being asked of me.
“I said I should probably be getting you home since you have an early morning tomorrow. Wouldn’t you agree?” Riley repeats.
I check the time on my wrist. Eight thirty. “Oh wow. Where did the time go? Yes, actually I should try to get a decent night's sleep before Emily has my head on a platter tomorrow for dozing off while she’s talking.”
My father lets out a loud bellow. “Now don’t you let Emily bully you around. She might help with things, but at the end of the day, you are the boss.”
“Boss.” I repeat. “Right. How could I forget?” I say sarcastically with an eye roll.
Riley stands from the couch and offers me his hand. My parents walk us out to the car and wave us goodbye as we drive away from their house.
“You seemed off at the end there, Princess.” Riley said matter of factly.
Off .
Is that what they call internal turmoil and fear of failing everyone in someone's life these days? “Sorry, just tired.” I lie. I should be tired. I had the most eventful day I’ve had in years but I’m so far from tired. My mind is racing a mile a minute.
“Amelia.” He calls with an authoritative tone that has me turning towards him. “I’ve seen you tired ,” he smiles, which only makes me grateful for the dark interior to hide the blush that creeps up my cheeks at his innuendo, “you’re not tired. You’re bothered. So don’t lie to me.”
I roll my eyes, “I’m,” I hesitate, not really even sure how to put it into words how I’m actually feeling, “scared?”
“Scared of what exactly?”
“That I’m going to fail. I hav e so many people counting on me and not just my parents. Do you actually know how many people Thatcher Inc. and its subsidiaries employ? Over a hundred thousand Riley. Do you know what that means if I can’t live up to the expectation of C.E.O.? I mean, I always knew this was where I’d end up eventually, but I thought I’d have more time. I didn’t think I’d go from working at the bottom of the barrel at Atlas Tech. for three years as a lowly nobody then thrown into the deep end at the head of the table.”
Riley swerves to the shoulder and put his car in park before facing me.
“You have never been and will never be considered a lowly nobody. So I never want to hear you compare yourself to that again. You are Amelia Thatcher. Daughter of Daniel and Corina Thatcher, and I don’t mean that in the privileged sense. I mean that you were born to wear the fucking crown. The fact that the throne was handed to you a few years early means very little when you could’ve done this job years ago because you worked your entire life for it. A man like Daniel Thatcher doesn’t strike me as a foolish man who makes foolish decisions. He decided you were to be his successor. Are you saying that decision was foolish of him?”
“No.” I half whisper.
Riley reaches over the center console and cups my chin. “You are everything he hoped you’d be. Will you please get out of your own head and start seeing that too?”
I nod in agreement.
“Good girl.” That damn smirk combined with the surprising praise kink I apparently now have makes me melt in my seat.
Much to my dismay, Riley releases his grip on me and puts the car back in gear to continue towards my place.
It only takes a few minutes before he arrives at the front of my building. Like the gentleman he is, he steps out of his car and takes three long strides to open my door. “Are you not planning to stay?” I’m almost embarrassed at the pleading undertone that laces my words when I realize his car is still idling.
“I think tonight you have all the company you’ll need.” Before I can decipher what he means, he laces his fingers through my hair and kisses me with such gentleness that has me molding to his body before he pulls away. “Good night, Princess.”
I stare at him as he gets back in his car and waits for me to walk safely inside before driving off in the direction of his building. I greet Anthony on my way in towards the elevators, extending the receptionists on duty a friendly smile before I make my way up to my home.
Thoughts of Riley’s kiss a moment ago distracts me from the fact that the light is on in my apartment when I could swear I turned everything off before I left. I walk into my place to find Sam and Lauren lounging on my couch with a table full of snacks.
“Do I want to know why you’re both here unexpectedly with enough sugar to feed a football team?” I inquire as I kick my shoes off.
They both eye each other before Sam turns back to me. “Did Riley not tell you?”
“Riley? Why would Riley know you guys were here?” I ask, confused.
Sam smiles with glee, “well he’s the one that reached out to me on my social media this morning telling me that he thinks it would be good for me and Lauren to be here for you when you got home from dinner so we can help you decompress with snacks after your first day at work and your first din ner with your parents in awhile.” She theatrically showcases the plethora of goodies lying on my coffee table with both arms extended. “He even provided the snacks, the bags were waiting for us downstairs at reception when we arrived.”
I think tonight you have all the company you’ll need.
The realization of what he meant finally dawns on me. I excuse myself from the living room to change into sweats and to text Riley.
Amelia
You sneaky bastard. ??
Riley
Enjoy your night, Princess.
Amelia
You know, if you really wanted me to enjoy my night, you’d come back over after they leave. ??
Why the hell was I being so bold? I’m starting to regret that boldness as I watch three bubble icons appear and disappear. I hate the anxiety it gives me so I throw my phone on the bed to grab a change of clothes from the dresser. When I hear the slight vibration against my duvet, I lunge for my phone with embarrassing speed.
Riley
As much as I would love to, Princess, I refuse to be the reason Emily lectures you for your lack of sleep tomorrow.
Amelia
Fine. You’re right. I did say I needed a decent night's sleep.
Riley
Just know, I won’t be getting a decent night’s sleep while thinking about you.
Riley
Goodnight, Princess.