Page 2 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

“Sit down,” he said again, and sat down himself, folding into the big seat at the head of the table. I picked a chair a few places down.

“I closed the Sharps deal,” I said, feeling defensive. Hating myself for it, for not standing my ground. I’d earned that seat at the head of the table. Not whatever this was, this weird tête-à-tête.

Dad nodded. “I figured. I saw them leave.”

“The terms they signed off on?—”

He waved me off. “I’ve reviewed the contracts. You did nice work.” He steepled his fingers, as though deep in thought. “You’ve always been good at handling people. And there’s no denying your head for numbers.”

I stiffened where I sat. I could feel the but coming.

“But I’m struggling with the idea of handing the reins to you.”

Heat surged through my body. Red waves of anger, then disappointment. My stomach turned over, and I thought I might puke. If not me, then who? Who worked harder than I did? Who knew the Elkins Group inside and out, every play, every company, every ten-year plan? I’d worked my way up right from the bottom. Seen every department from the inside. Just like Dad wanted. I’d jumped through every hoop.

“I don’t understand,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “What do you need from me that I’m not doing?”

Dad rose again, his leather chair creaking. He went back to the window and looked down at the street. “I started with nothing. Less than nothing. What I started with was a mountain of debt. A business so in the red I could’ve torched it for the insurance and still not come close to breaking even. I took that and built all you see today.”

I pressed my lips together, tired of this story. I’d been hearing it since childhood, how he’d come up from dirt. How he’d gone without food to invest in his business. How he’d lived in a single room above a laundromat, and the steam from the washers rotted his books. He’d been so hungry one time, or so the story went, he’d sat on a park bench watching the ducks, wondering if he could catch one and roast it. In the end, he hadn’t — children were watching. But the whole point was, he’d made his own way.

“I made my own way,” he said, right as I thought it. “Never had any handouts.”

“And that’s why you started me out in the mailroom.”

He sighed. “That’s right. But that’s still my mailroom. You still went home every night to your swanky apartment.”

I snorted. Swanky? Had he even seen it? It hadn’t been one room over a laundromat, but it had hardly been my current penthouse.

“I wanted you to succeed,” he said. “And I gave you every chance money could buy. The best schools. The best college. The best summer jobs. But the point is, I gave you that. You didn’t scrape for it. You’ve never had to deal with when things go bad.”

I bit my tongue hard so I wouldn’t snap back. I’d salvaged how many deals about to go south? Finessed how many holdouts into signing on the dotted line? But I could see from Dad’s stiff back, he’d made up his mind. If I fought him on this, I’d just come off childish. A yammering toddler who couldn’t take no for an answer.

“You raise a good point.” I managed a laugh, a self-deprecating chuckle to show I wasn’t angry. “So, what should we do, then? Wait for a stock crash?”

Dad narrowed his eyes at me, or his reflection did. I’d let a hint of sarcasm color my tone.

“Joking,” I said. “What’s the solution?”

Dad’s scowl smoothed out. “I’m glad you asked. Because that’s why I’ve called you here. I’ve had you clear your schedule so you can… move.”

I gaped at him. “Move? Where am I moving?”

“That’ll be up to you, but I’m setting you a challenge. I need to know you can live in the real world.”

“The real world? What?—”

“I want you to go home tonight and hang up your suit, and walk out of your penthouse with the clothes on your back. Take your toothbrush as well, and two hundred bucks, but other than that, walk out with nothing. I want you to go somewhere nobody knows you and start out from scratch. Build a new life. If you can do that without me to help you, then I’ll know you’re like I was. You’ve got what it takes.”

I coughed, dry-mouthed. I’d left my mouth hanging open. I shut it with a snap — he had to be joking. This was pure foolishness. A gag from a sitcom. Walk out with nothing? Start a new life?

“Who’s going to handle— Who’ll lead my department?”

“Morris will step in for you. He’ll step up anyway. When you come back and claim your CEO spot.”

“So you’re saying, I do this and the top spot is mine.”

“If you succeed at it. And I believe you will. I’ve seen you have mettle, but it’s yet to be tested. Come through your trial by fire, and yes. Yes. You’re in.” He turned back from the window and held out his hand. When I didn’t take it, he frowned, impatient. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you want to move up?”

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