Chapter Four Asher
Look up the word anger in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of my father scowling up at you.
I have very few memories of seeing my father genuinely happy, or expressing an emotion that isn’t some form of vague irritation.
Even so, I think I’ve only seen him this furious once before and I, unfortunately, was the cause of that episode too.
‘… chance after chance and this is how you repay me?’
I glance up just in time to watch my father slam a hand down on his desk, sending a stack of paper and a stapler crashing to the floor.
‘Well?’ he snarls, glaring at me like I’m the source of every single problem in his life. According to him, I might as well be. ‘How are you going to fix this?’
By this he means the Imani Davies situation.
I open my mouth to respond but he starts pacing the room and muttering furiously like he didn’t just ask me a question.
‘Do you understand how hard I’ve had to work to get Davies to come around to this idea? Months, Asher. I’ve spent months working him. This merger could change everything for the business – for the family…’
I manage to swallow down a snort. Since when have I been part of any of his considerations when it comes to the family?
‘And yet you insist on making things difficult.’ He pauses in his ranting momentarily and narrows his eyes. ‘As usual.’
I could point out that the reason he’s having to go to these lengths to get over the line with Peregrine Airways is because of his own less than savoury behaviour over the years, and has nothing to do with me, but he’s inching closer to a paperweight on his desk and I don’t fancy my chances if he reaches for it and sends it flying.
‘If we don’t get the Peregrine shareholders and investors on board—’ He cuts himself off abruptly and gruffly clears his throat.
‘Well, the specifics of the situation don’t concern you.
Just know that it needs to be done and you need to do your part in ensuring success and securing our family’s legacy. Is that understood?’
I run my tongue over the back of my teeth in an attempt to tamp down the maelstrom of resentment and rage I can feel building inside me.
All this talk about family and legacy coming from him of all people leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
I’m nothing more than an inconvenient obligation to him; he’s made that perfectly clear over the years.
There’s no love or even a hint of fatherly affection driving him here.
‘I said,’ he grits out, leaning against his desk until he’s only mere inches away from my face. ‘Do. You. Understand?’
I’m not entirely sure why this, of all my father’s schemes over the years, has rubbed me the wrong way like this.
He’s always treated me as nothing more than a transaction; just a pawn in some game where the prize is always more money and power, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to agree to this ridiculous demand.
But when I open my mouth to utter out the expected ‘Understood’, nothing comes out.
Maybe it’s because he’s involved someone else this time. Someone entirely undeserving of his anger. As much as I’m willing to be his punching bag, I can’t do that to someone else.
To her.
I guess he hasn’t ground down my backbone as much as I thought he had.
He’s still waiting for me to respond, staring at me with cold eyes and a tight jaw. The silence that stretches between us is thick and suffocating. His nostrils flare suddenly, and for a moment, I think he’s going to explode again. I eye the paperweight nervously.
He opens his mouth and I flinch, ready for the explosion. But it’s not more vitriol that comes out of his mouth. Instead, he sighs and I do a double take, sure I’m seeing things. Because it looks like the fire behind my father’s eyes dampens slightly. He looks almost concerned. For me? Surely not.
‘This is Grenada all over again, isn’t it?’ he asks, voice softer than I’ve ever heard it before. It’s not exactly a kind tone of voice by any definition, but there’s none of the bite there was just seconds ago.
I frown. It feels like we’re in uncharted territory here. My father ranting, raving and throwing things I can handle. I know how to navigate and dodge that. But this? This is new. I don’t like it.
‘Perhaps I’ve been too hard on you,’ he says softly.
He settles into his seat, leans forward and steeples his fingers together.
The shock I’m feeling must be painted clear as day across my face because he chuckles knowingly.
‘All I’ve wanted to do is shape you into something – or should I say, into someone worth carrying the Vouvalis name.
Have I been hard on you over the years?’
Yes, I think bitterly, but I stay silent, knowing he’s not looking for a response from me.
‘Perhaps,’ he says, cocking his head to the side.
‘But I considered it a necessary evil. I’d hoped that under my tutelage, you’d eventually grow into a man – into a son – I could be proud of.
I had thought, na?vely perhaps, that we’d reached a turning point when I gave you the Grenada resort.
You’d begun to show promise after all. But we both know how that turned out. ’
The soft, fatherly facade slips for a moment, and I get a glimpse of the anger I’ve become so accustomed to. It’s almost a relief to see it.
‘I did what I felt was best,’ I force out, not that it does any good.
In the two years since the Grenada debacle, I’ve tried and failed to defend myself and my choices there more times than I can count.
It never ends up going my way. He doesn’t care that the resort location he wanted to open up in Grenada would have displaced hundreds of locals and reduced their access to the beach and the sea.
He only care abouts profit and the bottom line, no matter how many people he hurts.
‘Yes, yes,’ he says dismissively. ‘And therein lies the problem, doesn’t it? What you feel is best is never quite right. But never mind that. Never mind Grenada or all your other missteps over the years. This is your chance to redeem yourself. She is your chance.’
My father smiles then and the expression on his face is so foreign, it startles me. ‘If you do this for me, I can make sure you’re finally seen for what you are, Asher. You’ll be more than just the boy who’s squandered every chance I’ve given him. You’ll be my son.’
For a moment, I can’t breathe. There it is. The hook. The same one he’s been dangling in front of me since I was eight years old and desperate for any scrap of affection he might one day decide to toss my way.
I like to tell myself that his approval means nothing to me, and that I’d stopped chasing it years ago, but the lie doesn’t hold much weight even in my own head.
I was, after all, perfectly ready to say yes to marrying Imani just to keep him happy, and even now, I’m not laughing in his face and storming out of his office like I know I should.
Deep down, beneath all the anger and resentment I’ve built up over the years, there’s still a pathetic, broken part of me that’s desperate for his approval.
The kid who used to hide at the top of the stairs just to hear if my father might say something kind about me to someone else when he thought I wasn’t listening.
The same kid who’d spend day after day trying to earn a smile, and when it didn’t come, decided it was because I hadn’t worked hard enough to deserve one yet.
That kid still lives inside me, and as much as I hate to admit it, he wants what my father is offering.
My voice sounds hollow when I speak again. ‘If I do this…’ I start. ‘If I do what you’re asking, will that finally be enough for you?’
The silence that follows stretches for too long. He leans back in his chair, regarding me with a look that might be pity or maybe disgust. I can never tell the difference with him.
Just as I think he’s not going to give me an answer, he exhales slowly and says, ‘Well, that depends entirely on you, doesn’t it?’
I clench my jaw and nod stiffly. ‘Understood.’
A fleeting look of happiness passes over his face, and then he’s back to business again. ‘I want this deal with Davies signed by the end of the year.’
Seven months. He’s giving me a little over seven months to somehow convince Imani to marry me.
‘Whatever you did to hurt the Davies girl so badly? Undo it. I don’t care how you get her on board, just make sure it gets done.’
‘I can’t force her to love me.’ If I haven’t been able to earn my own father’s love in twenty-odd years, what hope could I possibly have for a woman I’ve just met?
Well, re-met, technically. Though our interaction was fleeting and it’s not like she remembers, so I suppose we are essentially starting from zero.
My father barks out a bitter-sounding laugh. ‘Who said anything about love? You just have to marry the girl.’
‘I can’t force her to do that either.’
He shrugs and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. My father is a cruel man. I’ve known this since the very first day I met him. But this is a new level of callousness. ‘You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.’
I open my mouth to respond but now that he’s got what he wants from me, he dismisses me with a wave of the hand and barely spares a glance in my direction. Not that I need telling twice.
Imani’s grateful smile when I agreed to her plan earlier flashes in my mind as I leave the office and I shake my head to dissolve the mental image of her.
She’s going to absolutely hate me.
There’s a car waiting outside, ready to take me home where I plan to faceplant into bed and disconnect from the world for at least twenty-four full hours. I’ve decided I’m owed at least that after the morning I’ve just had.
I open the door to the sleek black car waiting for me, and am immediately met with a loud BANG, followed by a shower of colourful confetti hitting me in the face.