Chapter 8 #2
I went straight through the foyer to the living room.
The color scheme was similar to the office, except lighter timber and more white furnishings.
The coffered ceilings were all white, the walls pale yellow, and a pale-blue rug sat over the parquetry floor.
A plush, nine-seater corner lounge sat in the middle of the room, facing the cerulean view, which wasn’t visible since it was nighttime.
The huge back porch opened to a rolling lawn, pool house, and inground pool.
The warm yellow glowing from the pool house and fresh blue of the pool invited me outside.
It would be peaceful and carry the fresh ocean scents, but it would also be cold, and the firepit next to the pool wasn’t lit.
Besides, it would only put off the inevitable showdown with my father.
My sister, Ally, grinned and said, “Hey, C! You made it.” The dining area on my right led to the white-on-white kitchen.
Jack and Ally sat at the breakfast bar, chatting to Mom, who was helping their five-foot-two Italian housekeeper, Bianca, cook dinner.
Mom loved anything creative, including cooking, and she got involved whenever she had time.
“It appears so.” I said hello to everyone, then went to Mom and kissed her cheek. Ally held her arms open for a hug, and I obliged. “Where’s Grandma?” I asked.
Mom sighed. “After the doctor’s visit, she complained of a migraine, so I put her to bed. She was in a ‘mood.’”
I nodded and gave my mother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
My father’s mother was… an interesting woman.
She was strong, having had to put up with my now-deceased grandfather who was like my own grumpy, exacting father.
One minute she’d be making a joke or giving us a hug and the next, embarrassing us in public with a loud inappropriate comment or chastising my father.
“Mood” meant she’d been difficult at the doctors.
She lived with my parents, and it fell to Mom to take time off work to run her around.
God forbid my father ever did anything family oriented.
I took a beer out of the fridge—if I got stuck into the hard stuff, I wouldn’t stop until I was unconscious.
I was likely about to march into battle against my father, so it was better I kept as many wits about me as I could.
I just wanted something to take the edge off, pretend I was about to relax for the weekend.
My brother tilted his head to the side as I sat next to him. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You look tenser than Uncle Robert’s waistband after Thanksgiving dinner. It’s not still about losing those accounts, is it? I told you that it’s probably not your fault.”
Dad chose that moment to walk in, Aunt Stephanie behind him. “Like hell it’s not,” he said, his face screwed up like he had a porcupine up his ass. If only. “I’d rather not have this conversation in front of everyone. Come to my study.”
I took a swig of beer and placed the bottle on the marble countertop. Sounded like Dad might have already heard my news. It figured that I’d be the last to know—the internet and my father knew before me. Fucking wonderful.
Ally and Jack stared at me, worry etched into their features. My mother was giving my father the stink eye. She was usually on our sides when it came to Dad. She knew he was quick to anger, and he never gave us the benefit of the doubt.
Feeling like I was a teenager about to be grounded for two months after some stupid prank, I followed my father and Aunt Stephanie to his study at the other end of the house.
He shut the door to the wood-paneled room.
It was the only “heavy” room in the house, kind of like his personality.
The rest of the house was infused with Mom’s personality and was elegant, light, and airy, thank God.
I sat stiffly in one of the leather and steel 1960s-inspired chairs in front of his desk.
Aunt Stephanie took the seat next to me, while father sat in his chair opposite us.
Fuck, was I about to be fired? I ran a hand through my hair, then tried to sit back and not look so…
harried. If Dad thought I was nervous, he might think I felt guilty.
But I didn’t. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Dad took no time getting to it. “When were you going to tell me about the rumors?”
“Now. I only found out on the way here. Sunshine called and told me the bad news.”
His brows drew down. “Bad news? Is that what you’re calling it? More like a total disaster. What have you done?”
My eyes widened. I knew he’d have a go at me, but believing something like that about me straight out of the gate.
What the actual…? I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice.
“Are you kidding? I haven’t done anything.
Those rumors are absolute bullshit. Since I took the CEO job, I haven’t even had meetings with any prospective management clients.
Ethan handles all that now. Why would you believe something like that of me?
” I shook my head and pressed my lips together.
Stephanie put a gentle hand on my arm. “Curtis is right, John. How could you believe he would do something like that? You and Dana brought him up to be respectful of women. You know this is a fabrication.” At least someone had my back.
My father stared at me. “The board isn’t going to like this. I’ll give you six weeks to sort this out. You’re on probation until then. Get to the bottom of this, or I’m going to have to do worse than demote you. I can’t have a scandal like this attached to Knight Advertising. Am I understood?”
My aunt sucked in a breath.
I couldn’t be more stunned than if I’d just been punched in the face. I blinked a few times, my thoughts trying to catch up. He wasn’t just demoting me—if this wasn’t fixed ASAP, I was out of a job.
Fuck.
My phone picked that time to ring.
My stomach dropped to the floor. Was this another client jumping ship?
I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. “It’s Margie. I have to take it.” She never called after hours unless something super urgent came up. God, please don’t let it be more bad news. “Hey, Margie. What’s up?”
“Hello, Mr. Knight. I’m sorry to bother you at home, but I have something I need to tell you.”
She’d left an hour early to go to an appointment this afternoon, but I hadn’t asked where she was going—it was none of my business. “What is it? Is everything okay?”
“Not really. I had tests a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve just found out that I have breast cancer.
It’s stage two, so it’s urgent that I have it treated.
I’ll have to have an operation and chemotherapy.
I need some time off. At least three months.
I’m so sorry to spring this on you. They want to operate next week, on Tuesday.
I can come in Monday and hand over to someone. Again, I’m so sorry, Mr. Knight.”
I rubbed my forehead as my stomach sank. “There’s no question you can have time off. And don’t worry about the costs. Our medical will cover all of it. Any out-of-pocket costs will be sent to the company. Just get better. I’m so sorry to hear this, Margie. If you need anything, please let me know.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“See you on Monday. Bye.” I hung up and relayed the information to Dad and Aunt Steph.
Jesus Christ, could this day get any worse?
My headache was fully-fledged now, the thumping ache making me want to vomit.
“I can’t do this right now. Can we reconvene tomorrow?
” I hated showing weakness in front of my father, but I couldn’t think anymore. I was done for the night.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He fiddled with his cuff links. The meeting was over. “I’ll handle cleaning up the PR mess; you find out what the heck is going on. Six weeks, Curtis. That’s it.”
I stood. Aunt Steph gave me a sad look as I turned to the door.
I didn’t say anything as I walked out. My hand still on the knob, I stood outside in the hallway, gathering myself before I went to say goodnight to Mom, Ally, and Jack.
I hadn’t quite shut the door, so Dad’s and Aunt Steph’s voices came to me loud and clear.
“Can we trust him?” my father asked.
“I think so, John. He’s a good kid. There’s something going on, and we need to get to the bottom of it.”
“I don’t know. I hate to say it, but any man can be tempted enough to make a mistake. I think we need to know for sure. How does he behave when we’re not watching?”
“Are you suggesting we spy on him?” Steph sounded scandalized. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, I could. Like I said before: my father wasn’t my biggest champion.
“Yes, Stephanie. I am. Can you arrange it? I think we have a good opportunity now that Margie is leaving. You’ll have to find someone for him anyway. The board will be happy knowing we have a close eye on him.”
Rage sliced through my stomach and beat at my temples. How dare they! Why didn’t my own father trust me?
“I don’t like doing this.”
“We don’t have a choice. The board needs to see I’m on top of this. No favors. Do you have someone you can use?”
She sighed. “There is someone, a new girl in marketing. She’s trustworthy, and she has a very strong moral compass—if she signs something, she’ll stick to it.
She hasn’t had time to settle in yet. She has no loyalties, except to me.
Her name is Faith Emery. I don’t think she’s worked as a PA before, but she can type, and she’s smart.
We don’t have time to advertise for anyone and go through our usual process.
And like I said, we can trust her—she’s the one who helped save me from being robbed. ”
“Good. Do it. Offer her more money if she baulks at changing positions. Let her know we won’t take no for an answer.”
I didn’t want to hear anymore, so I walked away.
What would Donut Girl think of me when she found this out? Would she agree to spy for my father? I shook my head. If she said yes, any positive feelings I’d had toward her would be gone.
She’d be just as dead to me as my own father was.
Stone cold.