Page 162 of A Convenient Secret
A part of me suspects my father insisted on my highly unusual appointment as CEO to force me to stay here. Another part hopes it was more a seal of approval rather than manipulation.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. I accepted because I want to make some changes. My family’s business is extremely successful, but not necessarily progressive in its internal policies, marketing practices, or business dealings.
I observed that as an intern, and now I’ve grabbedthe chance to, at least, start implementing changes.
The position terrifies me. But it’s demanding enough to help me go through this life without breaking into pieces.
So yeah, my father might have manipulated me, but I beat him at his own game and took advantage of the situation.
I’ve been working fourteen hours every day, either here or in my father’s office. Burying myself in this work is the only way to banish certain thoughts from my mind.
It’s the only way to live with the agonizing pain that my bleeding heart injects into me at regular intervals. It’s been two weeks, and I feel only worse.
So I dive into another analysis, financial projection, expansion plan, marketing campaign, litigation case. Anything to keep the brain working hard enough not to leave any space for memories.
As much as I try, my heart is pumping beats of regret, grief, sadness, and often anger. At him. At me. At us. At Tim. At the media. At my father. At the world.
Even fourteen-hour workdays don’t tire me enough to fall into a dreamless slumber. I’m running on coffee and energy drinks. I try to kill myself in my private gym before bedtime, or right after I get up, but nothing works.
“You are a Spinelli.”
“That’s hardly a qualification. Let me remind you that Timothy is a Spinelli, too.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Dad, we had this argument so many times. I stepped in because you asked me to. I appreciate your trust in my abilities. But don’t ask me why I work this hard. Your trust and my name aren’t enough to get the job done.”
“I think you work hard to take your mind off something.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I didn’t exactly assume I was hiding my grief well, but I hoped my father would avoid the topic.
“Dad, I have to finish this before I leave for the office.”
“Come here, Lily.” He pats his bed.
Sighing, I climb beside him, resting my head on his chest as he wraps his arm around me.
“I failed you.” He kisses my crown.
“Dad—”
“No, let me finish. I have always been hard on you, especially after…” He peters out, never able to say my brother’s name. “After your mother left, I was always more focused on business than you.”
“Dad, you don’t have to—”
“I do. I guess facing one’s mortality brings somethings into sharper focus. I’m sorry I didn’t consider Tim an actual threat. I should have protected you better from him, but I was so focused on work, on protecting the company from the in-family fighting, that I didn’t see… or maybe I chose not to see what was really going on.”
“I never blamed you for anything.”
“You should. I almost lost you because I had the wrong priorities. I’m not going to let that happen again.”
I sit, turning to face him. “Did you give me the job to atone?”
“No, I still love the company.” He smirks. “I just took everything else for granted. I’m glad to have you back.”
“A part of me is glad to be back, Dad.” I wish it was more; things would be so much easier.
“You left the other part in New York?”
