Chapter 20 #2
“Okay, that’s good. There’s a lot to do now.
I have a feeling the list on that clipboard.
” I nod to the pile in her arms, only to realize I haven’t given it to her.
“Oh, sorry. Here”—I drop it on top of her folders—“on that clipboard is not going to be finished today, so I’d get to it.
” Krista nods and spins to leave. “Oh, yeah. I plan on having lunch with a VIP client all week, so I won’t be available.
The break room is likely open, though, so don’t feel like you need to eat at your desk.
” She struggles at first with balancing the folders and opening the door, but I let her struggle.
After what I’ve seen in just the last few minutes, I don’t trust being near her in any capacity.
She finally succeeds at opening a fucking door, and pulls it shut quietly behind her.
When I realize she forgot the cart, I help her out by scooting it out the door and shutting it again.
I stare at the shut door and replay the last ten minutes in my mind.
Inappropriate commentary? At least two. Attempts at touch? Multiple. Playing up my sympathy? At least twice. All in ten minutes.
Fuck me. What have I allowed here?
“Where the hell is your assistant, or your Goddamn Camaro? What is that trash in the employee lot? And what the fuck are you doing on your phone? You think this is some kind of frat house?” Richard starts in on me before fully opening my office door.
Thankfully, I’m on the phone with Billy, who went instantly silent at the voice of my father.
I see an opportunity and play it up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wells. I must have forgotten to turn down the sound on my computer. It opened up on an ad for a new TV drama. Could you repeat that? Wait, let me take you off speaker first.”
“It’s fine, son. Do what you need.” Billy disguises his voice for me, playing along, but I don’t think I mistake the bite in his tone. I remove him from speaker and place him at my ear.
“There you are, sir. Now, you say you want to take a loan out for a whole new guest lodge?” My father doesn’t look chastened because that would mean he’d have to believe he was doing something wrong.
No, at my words, he looks fucking greedy.
He knows the Wells’ work only with me because of Paige, and he is more than happy to milk that relationship.
“I want to kick his fucking ass, Trevor. I don’t know how you do it. I’d have committed patricide ages ago, and that’s saying something from someone who actually lost his dad.”
“Yessir. We have many options available to you. Let me look through it now, and we can discuss the details more in person.”
“He’s still standing there? Fuck that guy, Trevor.
Come work for me, man. It’s time.” Infuriatingly, my father seems invested in this fictional conversation, and has remained at the doorway, eyes fixed on me and my computer.
I pull up the program I developed to make this process easier for me, but practically incomprehensible to anyone else.
It’s actually simple for anyone, but they’d need me to explain it first.
“Well, according to this chart I’m looking at, the current plan has the best possible benefits and”—I stumble over how to word it. Hours doesn’t make sense in this context—“timeline for a family man such as yourself. There’s a lot of risk, swapping to the new one.”
“Still fucking there. Fuck off, Dick.” He sighs.
“Okay, I get what you’re saying. Why don’t we do a trial run, huh?
” I nod and plug some imaginary numbers as he works to convince me about something I’m already practically sold on.
“You’re the one who called me about working part-time.
I’m just saying, let’s make it official. We can talk benefits and hours.”
“Insurances are guaranteed that your money will have the biggest impact with the original option.” That was a bad one, but my father looks like he’s getting bored. Sure enough, he mouths “get him to go higher,” and leaves without a word of apology and with the door remaining wide open.
“Let me send over what types of insurance I have. Look into it and tell me what you think. Paul is fucking everything up, and I’m not sure how long this company will last with him running it into the ground.”
“Of course. I’ll look into all of the details and get back to you with our best offer. Thank you, sir. Have a great afternoon.” The phone goes quiet when Billy hangs up, and I stare at the screen—at the made-up numbers and data points.
I’m damn good at my job. I’ve been highly motivated to be the best for years.
I planned on being so for the rest of this year as well, but I’m out of time.
Since the moment I showed up at my father’s door all those years ago, our first NICU bill in hand, I’ve pinched every single Goddamn penny that has landed in my pocket while still giving my family a comfortable life that is far away from the Suburban where we started.
My father, as a banker, was well aware of the programs out there available to people like my wife and me to help with things like medical debt, but did he inform his only son? No.
Owing a man like Richard Whitaker the kind of money he loaned to me so many years ago is like selling your soul to the devil.
His terms were predatory at best and illegal at the worst. I’ve been able to keep my head above water until this year started.
First, it was his top man announcing his retirement from the business, then it was Bobby’s rise in prominence in the company, and finally, it was my own person, unraveling.
Thankfully, he thinks that I have over $500,000 yet to pay, so he’s not going to expect me to rock the boat.
He’s going to expect my absolute surrender and complete compliance, and I’ll give that to him for a little longer.
Richard has been pulling straight from my paycheck for years.
But again, I’m damn good at my job. I know money.
I have about $300,000 sitting in a CD, collecting one backbreaking dollar at a time and locked up tight to never be touched until I’m finally able to toss the money in his face and walk away forever.
The sale of my Camaro gave me a big jump, especially considering the work the boys and I did over the last couple of years.
However, I did a rush sale, letting my emotions get the best of me, and now I still need $100,000.
I need to get out of this bank, and I need to do so before it completely destroys my life.