Page 12 of Always Knew It Was You

“All the things that excite you are stupid.”

“To you,” I say.

“To everyone who’s not a child. Micah, you’re thirty-five years old. Don’t you think it’s time to stop your foolishness and start thinking of taking over the family legacy? I’m not going to be alive forever, you know, and someone will have to take the helm. What I’m offering you here is a chance to get the experience you need to run Landing Holdings. You’ll need experience to win over the board of directors and our investors and–”

“Yawn,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Those old crones don’t want me on the board and, frankly, I don’t want to interact with them any more than I have to. As for the family legacy, that wasn’t what I signed up for, and it’s not the role you raised me to play. That was supposed to be Tristan’s job, no?”

My father reacts like I shot him. “Your brother is dead.”

“Precisely. And that’s the crux of the problem, isn’t it? Because with Tristan gone, you need someone to neatly slot into his place. But I’m not him, Dad. I can’t just do the things he did and, even if I could, I don’t want to. I want something that’s mine, that isn’t tainted by his legacy.” I want to be Micah, not Tristan’s less competent wild card brother. I’m sick of playing a role that I’m not good at, a role that chafes.

And then my father goes for the low blow. “And how is that working out for you? What is it, five failed businesses in ten years? It’s an impressive track record if I think about it.”

I try not to grit my teeth. “Most businessmen fail before they succeed.”

“Not when they have billions of dollars at their disposal.”

“Okay, this has been a fun talk Dad, but I have to go have breakfast now.”

“I’m not going to let you sell those shares.”

“They’re my shares to sell,” I say.

“Shares that I gifted you,” he says. “Shares that I still control. I’ve already spoken to Ben DuPont and confirmed that the deal is off.”

Anger spikes inside me but I know better than to react. My father already thinks I’m a child. I don’t want to encourage that notion.

Come on, Micah. Say something pithy and mature.

“You can’t fucking do that.”

Great, way not to sound like a whining child.

“I can and I did,” Dad says simply. “And if you try to sell to anyone else, Tudor and I will strike it down too per our contract. If you insist on acting like a child, I’ll treat you like one. And I’m going to save you from yourself and make you a man if it’s the last thing I do.”

As my father hangs up, I resist the urge to fling my phone against the wall.

Damn.

One word from my dad and all my well-laid plans have gone to shit. I spent weeks convincing DuPont to buy off my shares.

And now he won’t do it, because my father got his panties in a twist.

I don’t blame Frank Tudor for telling my father. His friendship with my father predates my existence and so it’s only fair that his loyalty lies with him.

And so with that, I’m trapped once again.

Except I’m already thinking of a way out of it. And despite what my father thinks, I’m not lazy or stupid. I’m just someone who gets easily bored and needs a challenge. Working at this hotel won’t be a challenge. It will be just one more part of the humdrum of life.

Another thing I do that adds no value to the universe. Another thing I do less well than my brother.

I hate that Tristan died and left me to be the one in charge. That was never supposed to be me. I was the fun brother who was very comfortable in his shadow because it gave me the freedom to do what I want. And now, I’m supposed to play discount Tristan.

And then it hits me.

The only one who can help me out of this predicament.

The only person who can overstep my father, and it isn’t my mother who I haven’t heard from in almost a year, due to her extended sabbatical to cope with my brother’s death.

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