Page 125 of All Twerk, No Play

“No, he let you go. But he never gave up on you,” Dad said gently. “He was devastated when you left, wanted to chase you to California to bring you home, but I told him that would only make you resent him more. I convinced him that it would be good for you to have outside experience. I assumed that you’d come back on your own someday, though that hypothesis was erroneous.” His lips tilted in a bittersweet smile as he surveyed the conference room again.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let it drag out this long. This conversation could have happened in San Francisco. I’d been looking forward to walking into Hamilton & Houghton’s offices and prying both of you away from my old college rival.” Dad’s smile turned vindictive, like a little kid who won a tennis match. “Probably why you plateaued at senior associate. Fred would be too embarrassed to see a partner walk.”

A surge of rage tore through me, and I glanced at Alexander’s familiar scowl.

Of course. Of course our previous firm’s partners treated me like shit because they always assumed I’d leave. They hadn’t wanted the disgrace of a partner walking away … but their precious egos wouldn’t admit the truth, so they made it seem like I wasn’t good enough.

Dad had pulled strings to get me that job, which I didn’t realize until after I signed the employment contract. I’d seen it as a refuge instead of what he intended: experience to support my eventual return to lead Sinclair Larsson. He’d probably informed my old boss Fred that I was a temporary loan.

The only variables were how long Richard lived … and whether Spencer could oust him before he died.

“And what about the boy wonder?” I asked bitterly. “What was Richard’s plan for him?”

“Spencer is a useless, entitled piece of shit,” Dad said with disdain, and for the first time in this conversation, we agreed. I saw the quirk of my mouth mirrored on his. “Richard realized years ago that Spencer never had the brains or grit. If he took the reins, the company would go belly-up within a decade. But you …” Dad’s attention lingered on our mounted logo. “You never give up. When life knocks you down, you fight back.”

Protect the moneymaker, Cobrecita.My chest spasmed at Cruz’s voice in my head, but I forced the emotion down. Not now.

My father put his fingers on my forearm, and it took all my willpower to stay still. Half of me wanted to retreat into myself and pretend this conversation wasn’t happening. The other half wanted to wrap myself in his reassuring embrace.

Instead, I glanced dismissively at his hand. He lifted his fingers and waited until my eyes returned to his, to shore me up with a confident pep talk. “We’ve got 4,000 agents in the field and another thousand at corporate who need a strong leader. Somebody who was raised in the industry, who knows all the legal requirements, who has experience running her own company and who has a vision for what Sinclair Larsson can become. There’s nobody else as qualified as you. There’s a reason Richard based his succession plan around you, Victoria.”

They’d been planning this for years. If I’d visited sooner or answered Dad’s calls, he might have clued me in. Instead, he moved the chess pieces from a distance.

I’d been a pawn in Richard and Dad’s machinations, and now I’d made it across the board and was being promoted to Queen: the most powerful piece on the board.

But still only as successful as the player moving the pieces.

Alexander exhaled deeply—stupid Alex and his stupid yoga—then I realized he was reminding me to breathe. When I followed his lead, my shoulders unclenched slightly. He leaned back in his chair and tugged on his bottom lip, his pose casual as we had a silent conversation.

Are you okay?His eyebrow arched.

I …, my shoulder replied.I have no idea.

You’re going to figure this out,his chin raised.

I don’t want this, my lip quivered.

I know, but you’ve got this,his crooked grin said, then his head cocked towards Connor.And we’re a team.

I turned a fraction. Connor grinned softly, like he’d been waiting for my attention, then tapped a fingertip twice over his heart.Where you go, I go.

I lowered my chin to stare at the table as a drop of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. My shoulders tensed, my chest aching from this morning’s pushups.

Knowing I needed a moment, Dad tilted to Alexander. “She’ll need a chief legal counsel.” He turned to Connor, “And a trustworthy Executive Assistant who knows all her quirks.”

“Arthur,” I reprimanded. “Stop. I haven’t said that I’m ...”

“You’ve been training your whole life for this job. It’s your birthright.” He rose and buttoned his suit jacket. Even though this was my office, Dad had set all the parameters of the meeting, including ending it on his terms. “Margot is preparing the obituary and today’s press release, and scheduling a press conference tomorrow at 2. As his successor and the new majority shareholder, you need to speak.”

I opened the conference room door, indicating to my team that I would walk him out alone. I waited until we got to the reception desk, the light of the windows shining through like a beacon of hope. “Say it.”

“You already know.”

“Say it anyway.”

He sighed, sliding his hand into his pocket. For the first time since he arrived, the confident veneer slipped. Instead of an executive leading a negotiation, he looked like a penitent father.

“He’s young and immature. He’d resent the 18-hour days and crack under the media scrutiny. He can’t handle what your life will become.” He sighed. “If you were an ordinary girl, I wouldn’t intervene. But—”

---