Page 13 of Flawless Foundations

"You can hear me fine," I deadpan.

"Oh shoot, well, I can't hear you, so I'm going to hang up now." She's so full of shit.

"Becca..." and the line goes dead. I shake my head and snort. Alright, looks like I'm going to have to put a little more effort into talking to her about what happened last night.

Thinking about Becca makes me remember that I wanted to look at her blog. I had an idea a few weeks ago, about branching out our website, and Becca's blog sparked a thought. I don't remember what she said the name of her blog was, so I log in to Facebook. I'm not on the site often, but I know how to use it for the most part. I search her name, click her picture, and sure enough, she links to her page in her About section. Glitz & Gloss looks to have about twelve thousand Instagram fans, which is impressive, and I see that coveted blue and white check mark, which means she's 'verified.' Before clicking off to her website, I see a video she just posted a week ago. It's comparing two different hair curling tools, one of which is three hundred dollars and the other only sixty. She's funny and so damn adorable and I can see why she has so many views and comments. I scroll to the next one and see her video where she reviews several items she picked up at a boutique make-up store. I know we distribute to that store, so I watch on to see if she has any King products. She does, and her reviews are honest and entertaining. Viewers are eating up her videos. I click the link to her website and I am impressed to see that her site is sleek and professional, yet it's also sexy and I can see that she understands the market. Her posts are a mix of reviews and advice.

Leaning back in the chair, I rub my jaw. She would make an excellent face for King Cosmetics. A blog like hers is precisely what I thought our site needed. I need to flesh out this idea and bring the marketing director in to help develop this plan I have to bring King Cosmetics back into the top spot of the leader in cosmetics.

I schedule a meeting with Kim, the marketing exec, asking her to assemble a small team for a website addition slash new project.

Before I know it, my calendar pops up with a notification that my father's meeting is in five minutes. I take a second to mentally prepare myself before getting up and heading to his executive conference room.

I'm the last executive to arrive. There are ten of us in total, ranging in age, but most are in their forties. Charlie and I are only in our early thirties. I may have had a hand in bringing him on, but he's damn good at what he does. Numbers are his thing, and you need a good numbers guy, one you can trust when you're running a multi-billion-dollar company. Not that I'm running things yet, but I will be soon enough.

My father stands at the head of the table, chatting with a few of the executives that I'm positive are nearing prehistoric age, when Charlie gives me a nod from across the table.

Joseph King clears his throat, and within minutes, he's shitting all over my day.

"All, as I'm sure you've heard rumblings, I've decided it's time to retire." There is a collective gasps and mummers. Someone chuckles and says, "you're not that old."

He chuckles, always such an easy guy to get along with, as long as you're not his children. "I'm nearing 68, thank you, I've been running this company for forty years. I think I'm due for a nice long vacation." True, my grandfather died before I was born, so Dad took over the company at 27. I wasn't born until he had been running the company for eight years.

"Like I was saying…" He brings the meeting back to its point. "I've decided to retire. I'll be slowly transitioning out over the next couple of months, but I'd like to be sunbathing on a tropical beach somewhere by the end of the year."

Shit.This is happening really fast. That's only four months away.

"Who will be taking your place?" someone asks. I can feel several eyes on me as I wait for this moment.

"I'll be announcing an interim CEO within a week or so." The room goes silent. I stare at a spot on the wall just above my father's head. I refuse to show any kind of emotion to his proclamation. He doesn't deserve to see how this is affecting me. Everyone knows I'm next in line. He's drawing a huge line in the sand by formally announcing that he has decided to consider other options. The only light at the end of this very dark tunnel is that he said interim. Meaning, he's not ready to hire someone full time.

He continues to talk for a couple more minutes, but I tune it all out. I'm so pissed, I grip the armrest of my chair so hard, I'm sure my knuckles are white. I'm also fucking embarrassed. He didn't need to make any comment about the position, but he did it to call me out. Calling off my engagement was a huge deal, and I had no idea doing so would cause such a rift between my father and me.

He closes the meeting, and everyone stands. I stand, plaster on a fake as shit smile and nod to a few people who give me sympathetic looks as I leave the room.

I close my office door, seconds before letting out a loud, "Fuuuck." I pace in front of the black leather couch near the window-covered wall looking out into a scenic New York City. Shoving my hands through my hair, I let out a string of curses.

Hearing the door click open, I must have missed the knock.

"So, you want to talk about what the hell just happened?" Charlie stands in the door of my office. I nod, and he walks in, closing the door behind him.

I resume my pacing as Charlie walks to my desk and leans against it, giving me a wide berth. He's quiet for a few moments, letting me get my thoughts in order.

"Clearly, you weren't expecting that turn of events, yeah?" Charlie crosses his beefy arms over his chest, watching me pace back and forth. He's a big guy, about four inches on my 5'9 height. He played Rugby in college, and he's clean-cut, but he's got a wild, crazy side.

"Fuck no. I mean, I knew I wasn't a shoo-in for the job anymore, but I was working on it. He just pulled that shit in there to reiterate his stupid as shit point." I growl.

"Which is what?" he prods.

"That I'm not CEO material because I'm not committed to the company. I called off my wedding to Darcy, and that fucked things up for some important business alliance. So, now this is my punishment. He won't leave the company in my hands unless I'm married. Fuck that shit." I stop my pacing and throw myself onto my couch, lie back and drape my arm over my face to cover my eyes.

"Shit," he draws out the word. "Levi, bro, why didn't you tell me what was going on?"

I shrug. "Guess I didn't think he meant it."

I hear Charlie walk across the room and take a seat in an adjacent leather chair. I continue my rant.

"I've worked my ass off for this company since I was in high school. He and I mapped out my entire life in preparation for me taking over this company. How can one little thing derail my entire career track?"

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