Page 37 of Three Meows

Our doubts were confirmed a few minutes later as Seth joined us in the living room. The ‘nope, nope, nope’ power walk clued us in even before he started speaking.

“Your man made the kitchen into a nuclear zone. He has opinions. And they arewrong.”

“Opinions?” Rowan asked from the ancient armchair he staked a claim on.

Seth looked first to the heavens, then to me.

“He told dad tomato is a fruit and therefore should go into the fruit salad.”

I closed my eyes for a second, despairing. My dad was a foodie. He had opinions as well. Strong ones.

“I’m not getting in the middle of that.”

“Right? I said I would set the table when I fled, so here’s the deal people: help me do it quickly and we will have time to play a round or two before dad and Chester join us.”

Everyone perked up at that, so we made quick work of preparing the table for a feast, the white cloth just waiting for the dishes to arrive. Seth pulled out Uno and established dominance by kicking everyone’s ass. He was pretty competitive, one of his characteristics that made him a better pick for a future CEO than me. My preferred games relied on cooperation and not sending someone to the Shadow Realm with your Reverse card.

Still, we had fun, and that was all that mattered. By the time the missing two emerged from the kitchen and we swarmed to help carry the dishes, fill the glasses with various beverages, and distribute the food, the atmosphere was much more relaxed than before.

We watched the turkey being pardoned, then put on a football game to play in the background as we dug into the feast with a big turkey from one of the nearby award-winning farms as the center of the spread. The cranberry sauce was delicious. Somehow, the mashed potatoes that Chester was in charge of reheating were slightly burned. Both Chester and my father refused to elaborate on what exactly happened there.

There was an occasional scrunched nose or heated stares as the table talk sometimes strayed near dangerous territories, but I used all my presumed-heir education and experience ofnavigating posh parties where everyone hated each other to keep things civil. Everything went as I expected until Rowan decided to turn the world on its head.

I could not in a million years have predicted what that man did.

It all started when Seth asked my father how the latest shareholder meeting went.

“Good… except for Peterson,” father grimaced.

Oh, that guy. I remembered him. I wish I didn’t; he was a pretentious prick even among pretentious pricks.

“He’s still giving you trouble?” Seth asked and father launched into a retelling of all the small and big roadblocks to the prosperity of the company Peterson put in his way.

“…I wish I could just get rid of him,” father finished his little rant.

Rowan slid a folder over to him.

I was as startled as everyone else. Sure, I saw the shoulder bag Rowan insisted on carrying around the house, but I thought it was just ex-soldier paranoia to have a go bag, or that he wanted to have something useful, like I dunno, tissues, at hand.

Apparently, the bag was used to carry a frickingdossier.

Father reached for the folder and opened it slowly. The entire table leaned forward to peak without any subtlety.

There were pictures.

And notes.

Pages upon pages of content. Screenshots, press articles, medical information…

“Did you just give my father a way to blackmail Peterson?!” I choked out.

“Several,” Rowan said.

“Well, I did wonder where you disappeared to those past few weeks…” Elijah murmured under his breath.

“It thought it was to find a new job!” Chester exclaimed.

“He’s having an affair?” father said faintly as he looked through the photos. He had evidence now. “And he’s embezzling from charity?”

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