Chapter 35
Vincent
"Vincent," Claire says, cracking the door to my office open. "Meghan is here."
"Send her in," I reply, steeling myself for what could very well be the toughest conversation I've had with her.
"Don't forget, your meeting’s at two," Claire reminds me before gently closing the door.
I lean back in my chair and take a breath, trying to calm the tension gnawing at me. I remember the day Meghan told me she was marrying Cal, a cop she met at the group home.
“Are you sure you’re ready to be a wife?” I had asked, choosing my words carefully. “You’re a very independent young woman, used to marching to the beat of your own drum.”
“Is that your way of saying I’m stubborn and always get what I want?” she had replied, her tone sharp. “Or are you saying it would be a challenge for anyone to be married to me?”
“Both,” I had said, choosing bluntness over sugarcoating. “This young man has chosen a career in law enforcement. His fulfillment won’t come from a lucrative future, but from the difference he’ll make in the community.”
“Well,” Meghan had said, folding her arms. “I’m hoping you’ll help me change his career goals, Dad. Can’t you offer him a position in one of your companies?”
“I don’t feel comfortable doing that,” I’d replied. “People like Cal march to the beat of their own drum too. You’re both playing in different bands, in different worlds. Listen to me, Meghan, Cal is not the man for you.”
“But he’s the one I want!” she had insisted. “You’re not going to change my mind. Now, are you going to help me convince him to switch careers or not?”
Her knock on the door brings me back to the present. “Come in, sweetheart.”
She walks in, and for a moment, I’m struck by how much she looks like her mother. Her soft features are a stark contrast with the fire in her eyes.
“Hi, Dad,” she says, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.
I nod and gesture to the chair across from my desk.
“Sit down, and let’s talk.” Normally, I’d offer her a seat in the lounge, but this is going to be different.
I need to assert myself as her father—firm, unwavering—and I’m not about to let her push me into giving her what she wants this time. There’s too much at stake.
She sits, crossing her legs, and shoots me her staple smile. The one she's used on me countless times when she wants to get her way. I know she expects me to cave, just like I’ve done in the past. But she’s not going to win this one. Not when my granddaughter’s well-being is on the line.
"What is this about?" she asks, immediately sensing the tension between us. "I was surprised when Claire called to set this up. Since when does getting together with my father get called a 'meeting'? I'm not one of your employees."
I ignore the jab, keeping my focus. "I want to talk about Hannah," I begin, my voice steady.
"I know what you've told me before—'Cal doesn't want me to have a relationship with her,'" I say, quoting her words.
"I'm not getting any younger, and strengthening my relationships with family is becoming more important to me the older I get. "
"What are you saying, Dad?" she asks, glancing at her polished nails, her voice edged with curiosity.
"I want you to bring her for a visit next time you have her," I continue. "How often do you see her?"
She shifts uncomfortably in her chair, clearing her throat. "I hadn't had a chance to tell you," she says, finally meeting my gaze. "I'm going to file for custody. I want her to live with me. She's growing up, and I want her to be with me."
There it is. I lean back slightly, masking my reaction. "Isn't Cal getting married?" I ask, dropping my first card—it's my turn to control the conversation. I know more than she thinks.
The surprise on her face is telling. She eyes me warily, wondering how much I know.
"That's what I've heard," she replies, a flicker of unease in her voice. "How do you know?"
"That's not important," I answer, cutting off the question. "I don't think taking her from Cal would be what's best for a five-year-old who's always lived with her father. You chose this arrangement when you divorced him."
"I've changed my mind," she says dismissively, returning to her nails.
"Is it because you want to be a better mom?" I ask, pushing the issue. "Or is it because he's getting married?"
"I couldn't care less that he's getting married," she snaps, her voice sharp.
"Is it because he's marrying Elle Keaton, also known as Dani Hartman?"
Her eyes snap to mine, the distraction of her nails forgotten. "What?"
"Here's the thing, sweetheart," I say, leaning forward, my elbows on the desk.
"Wanting full custody of your daughter because you can't stand the thought of not having her around every day is one thing.
But wanting to take her away from the only parent she's ever known—just to get back at him for falling in love with one of your former wards, the one who caused you to lose your job—that's something else. "
"She got me fired, Daddy!" she blurts out, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "There's no way in hell I'm just going to let this slide."
"And Hannah is the only way you can get them back."
"That's not what I said!" she exclaims, her control slipping entirely, her cheeks flushed with fury.
That didn’t take long.
“I know you’re upset, but you need to listen to me now,” I begin, keeping my voice calm but firm. "This isn't about you. This is about what's best for Hannah. She's thriving in her home life with Cal. Yes, you've been spending time with her, and that has helped to fill the very void you created."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Her voice cracks as she struggles to regain her composure. "I'm a good mother."
“How much time do you spend with Hannah?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
"I see her once or twice a week," she replies, inhaling a breath. "And she's been spending every other weekend with me."
"And how does that schedule compare to two months ago... or years before that?"
"It sounds like you already know the answer to that," she says, exhaling sharply. "What exactly am I here for, Dad? Let's cut to the chase."
"Alright," I say, leaning back slightly, “Let’s do that.”
She tips her chin up defiantly, as if challenging my words before I even speak them.
“I forbid you to disrupt Hannah's life just to get back at Cal.”
“Forbid me?!” she exclaims, her tone incredulous. “I’m not a kid, Dad. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
"What have you been doing since you lost your job?"
The question hits her like a slap. Her eyes flare with anger, and for a moment, she's speechless.
"What does that have to do with anything?" she asks, trying to regain control.
“Listen to me, Meghan,” I begin, my voice low. “You live a lavish, expensive, worry-free life, thanks to me. We both know the job you had since graduating wasn’t a career—it was a pastime. You didn’t take it seriously. The only thing you cared about was the control it gave you.”
That hits a nerve. Her eyes dart around, unsure of where to settle. She knows exactly what I'm getting at—she’s thinking about the role she played in Dani Hartman never getting adopted. I can see it in her eyes, she knows I know.
“I suggest you think very carefully about your choices,” I continue, not allowing her to interrupt.
“I will cut you off, do you hear me? You won’t see it coming.
One day, you’ll go to pay for something you don’t need, and your credit card will get declined.
If you choose to defy my wishes, you’d better start looking for a job. ”
“You wouldn’t dare do that to me, Daddy!” she says, her voice rising as she loses grip on her fraying emotions.
I lock eyes with her. “I don’t bluff, sweetheart. And you know it.”
"You're going to choose what Cal and that woman want over me?"
“You lied to me, Meghan,” I say, my voice calm and controlled. “But I don’t hold it against you, because I made the conscious decision to believe the lie.”
“How did I lie?” she asks, a single tear rolling down her cheek before she swipes it away with the back of her hand. “When did I lie?”
“You told me you had made a mistake giving Cal full custody because he was going out of his way to keep Hannah from you, and that I couldn’t see her because he wouldn’t allow it.”
The silence that follows is deafening. I can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to find a way out of this.
“If you do this to me,” she begins, thinking she can manipulate me, “I will never speak to you again.”
“Then I guess that’ll be my penance for not being a good father,” I reply calmly. “And worse yet, a horrible grandfather to that little girl who deserves so much more.”
“Is this the part where you say this hurts you more than it hurts me?” she asks, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“This isn’t easy,” I say, my voice softer now. “I just want you to remember that I’m your father. Until the day I’m gone, everything you have is still mine.”
"Fine," she whispers, as if accepting defeat. "You win."
"This isn't about winning or losing, sweetheart," I say gently. "This is about doing what's best for Hannah. And to make sure we both keep that in mind, I want your assurance that you’ll stick to the current schedule and continue spending time with her. And I need to see her, too."
"Okay," she says, sighing. "I'll have her this weekend. We'll stop by for a visit."
"Good," I reply, unable to hide a smile.
"Is that it?" she asks, beginning to stand.
"Actually," I say, motioning for her to sit back down, "I’m going to be making some changes in the company."
"What kind of changes?" she asks, her curiosity piqued. "And more importantly, what does that have to do with me?"
My daughter, always the charmer.
I chuckle, shaking my head. "I’m going to sell some shares, which means I can retire early. I’ll need someone to take my place. I’d like it to be you."
The shock on her face is priceless. Her hand shoots to her chest. "Me?" she murmurs. "Would this be my office?"
"You’re an intelligent, competent, educated, and ambitious woman," I say. "Exactly the type of person it takes to fill my shoes."
"Takes one to know one," she says, her smile returning. "I never thought I’d be the one to take over the company after you retire, but I’m ready, Daddy."
"I've got a strong team that functions like a well-oiled machine," I begin. "Every position has been filled strategically to ensure everything runs seamlessly after I leave. No one needs their hand held. You’ll only need to attend meetings and report back to me. After I sell, you’ll report to whoever buys in, and as senior partner, they’ll have final say on any operational decisions. "
"So I’d be second in command?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with interest.
We discuss dates and logistics for a few minutes, and then shake on it before she heads out.
As I watch her leave, the fact that she never once asked about my plans after I retire hits me.
It’s a stark reminder of how disconnected I am from my own flesh and blood. She has absolutely zero interest in me.