Scott #2
“She’s an heir to the automotive industry, Margo. The environmentalists will have a field day.” His eyes never left his gun.
“You agreed she would be the alternate.”
Dad peered up, ready to challenge her. Then seeming to remember that he’d made that deal in earnest, he threw his hand in the air. “Bah.” He returned his attention to his firearm. “She better return that ring.”
“She’ll return the ring,” my mother assured him. “Did she say she wanted to keep it?” This was directed back to me.
“Uh.” I paused, suddenly wishing I’d brought the scotch. The two always bickered, but normally it was all-out war. Tonight the arguing was less intense. More like they were a united front despite any surface disagreement.
Two against one. That didn’t bode well for me.
“Spit it out, Scott. Do we need to call Rudy?” Dad loved to threaten getting his lawyer involved.
Brave the fuck up. “She hasn’t said anything. She isn’t the one breaking this off. You can talk to her directly about the ring, but I don’t think it will be an issue.”
For the first time since I’d come in the room, my father truly looked at me. “What do you mean she isn’t the one breaking this off?”
My mother whipped off her reading glasses. “Did you discover a skeleton in her closet? I knew the Montgomerys weren’t as rosy as they appear to be. See, Henry?”
“I thought we’d run a thorough background check.”
We had been me. Or my people. Everyone SIC intended to work with had a background check. Always about protecting our image. So if there had been a skeleton, it made sense to assume it was me who’d found it.
I briefly considered using that as an excuse. But that would only buy me so much time, so I braved the fuck up. “No skeletons. Nothing wrong with Kendra or the Montgomerys. It’s me. I’m breaking it off.”
“What’s wrong with you then?” Dad asked, adopting his critical voice, the one that he used to bully someone into compliance.
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Except that I’d been stupid enough to agree to this idea in the first place. “I’ve just changed my mind.”
He pressed on. “You’re realizing you aren’t ready to take over R&D, aren’t you? Of course you’re not, but you’ll be fine. Baptism by fire. You’ll have help. We won’t leave you to fuck it up on your own.”
“No, that’s not…” The better choice would be to let his words roll off my back, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I’m more than ready to take over R&D, thank you very much.
Compared to McAllister? He’s got his head stuck in his ass, and his ass is stuck back in 1989.
I’d bring us the innovation SIC needs, and you want to worry about your image so much, that’s where it needs improvement, Dad.
Stop running the company like it’s a dinosaur. ”
“So then, what’s the problem? You’ll marry the girl, you’ll get the job, you’ll change the company.” He pointed the gun in my direction, which I was sure was unloaded but still felt a bit jarring.
I stared at the weapon, unsure it was the wisest idea to argue with a man holding a revolver, loaded or not. “Well, you should give me the job because I will change the company, but no. I’m not marrying the girl.”
Thankfully, he lowered his gun to the desk. “You agreed—”
“I did,” I said, cutting him off, fearing his tone as much as the gun. “And now I’m disagreeing. I changed my mind. I’m not ready to be married.” At least, I wasn’t ready to be married to her.
My mother, who’d been studying me, narrowed her eyes. “Is this about that ethnic girl?”
“God, Mom, you’re horrible,” I said, flinching, strangely thankful to use my disgust with her prejudice as a method of deflection.
“Indian,” Dad said, as though the lack of specificity was where the issue lay.
“Iranian,” I corrected. “Half-Iranian. Not that it fucking matters, and no.” Well, yes. “This is about me realizing I don’t want to have anything to do with an arranged marriage.”
“Ah, that’s where she gets her nice skin,” my mother mused. “Persian women have the prettiest olive tone.”
“You can still fuck around, Scott.” My father didn’t even look at his wife as he granted me permission to commit adultery. “You’re worried about losing out on all the pussy, and I’m telling you, it’s not an issue. In fact, you’d be surprised how many women are turned on by a gold band.”
“Ew, Dad.” I glanced at Mom, who was staring my father down with hate in her eyes.
Okay, so her mood was probably now a three at best. Not that I could blame her.
I had to speed this up. “Look, I know what sorts of arrangements are possible in a relationship, and that’s cool if that’s what you’re into, but I’ve decided that’s not the sort of marriage I’m interested in.
Okay? Not a big deal. I’ll wait to get hitched.
Good thing we got this all sorted out before an official announcement was made.
I’ll take care of covering any leaks that might have gotten out from the party on Saturday, call it a misunderstanding.
Might even be able to use it to cover up that harassment lawsuit we have going on in the Ohio plant.
Everything works out. We good? Good. See you at dinner. ”
There, it was done and said, and now I was getting the fuck out of there.
I’d just turned around when my father stopped me. “Hold it right there, son.”
It was the tone no one could ignore. The big boss tone. The one he used in the boardroom or when he was tearing apart some poor innocent minion.
Slowly, I turned back around.
“You’re not getting the transfer without a wedding ring on that finger.”
“That’s a bad decision on your part, if you ask me, but I figured as much.” Totally as expected, but then I had to push it. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll get married sooner than you think. The old-fashioned way. You know, to someone I love.”
He let out a sadistic laugh. “Boy’s turned into a pansy-assed romantic. This is your fault, Margo.” As if my mother were any better of an advocate for romance than he was.
She’d checked out of the conversation, leaning on her death glare to communicate her thoughts and feelings. Fortunately, the glare was mostly aimed at my father, which was likely only going to exacerbate his anger at me.
Obviously it was not a time to argue. “Yep. Busted. I fell far from the tree it seems. Sorry to disappoint you. Oh, that’s right. You were already disappointed. So nothing’s changed.”
Okay, maybe I needed to work on how not to provoke an angry bear.
Dad pointed a stern finger at me. “And don’t you dare think you’re getting that position if you marry that Turani girl.”
“Hold up.” She wasn’t even in the room, and yet every muscle in my body went into protective mode.
“You said you picked my bride, and I’d get a seat on the board.
You only said I had to get married to get the transfer.
You didn’t say you had to approve my marriage.
” Not like I was saying I was marrying Tessa, but he needed to know the option was open.
He straightened, and though he was only an inch taller than I was, he seemed to loom. “You changed your mind, I can change my mind.”
Stand down, stand the fuck down.
I meant it for myself, but if he wanted to listen to my inner voice as well, that would be awesome.
I took a steadying breath. “Fine. I’ll stay VP of image and outreach. Been dealing with your shit so long, no one knows how to cover it up better. Everything’s back to status quo. You can go back to playing with your gun.”
I turned once more, needing to get out of the room before I socked him in the face.
“You are not marrying that girl, Scott.”
I whirled around. “I’m not marrying anyone right now, Dad. Stop getting your panties in a wad.”
“Not now, not ever.”
Walk away. Don’t be stupid, and walk away.
“Or what?” I challenged back.
That was my mistake. Standing up for the possibility of marrying a woman I still knew so little about. I should have walked away, should have agreed for the time being and dealt with his threats later when and if marrying Tess actually became a thing.
But I’d had to fight about it now.
And in doing so, I showed him my weakness. Showed him how much Tessa meant to me.
I could tell the minute he realized, the way his features pulled together into a cold, hard expression. “New deal,” he said. “You marry Kendra Montgomery as planned. You get the position in R&D, you get the spot on the board, and I’ll even get you two a nice condo as a wedding present.”
“And if I don’t?” Because I wasn’t. In the brief silence that followed, I prepared myself for his next inevitable threat.
He’d fire me. That would be it, I guessed.
Would I leave for Tessa? Sure. I was just pissed enough to do it.
I was even looking forward to telling him. He’d be so shocked he’d wet his pants.
I was ready. Bring it on.
“If you don’t,” he said finally, “then that little women’s foundation you want SIC to sponsor? You can kiss that deal goodbye.”
Now that, I hadn’t seen coming.