Page 16 of Bad for Business
I’m quiet as I try to think of what to even say to my dad. From the meeting with Ryker and his father, his dad seemed like he did believe in his son. Yes, you could tell he was frustrated and at his wit’s end with Ryker, but it hadn’t seemed like he’d given up on him.
“Camille,” he barks when I don’t answer him.
Never did I think I’d want to defend Ryker Davenport to my own father, but right now, I feel the urge to. I saw the defeated look in Ryker’s eyes when he explained why things had gotten worse recently. He lost his mom, and I can’t help but feel bad for him because of that.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say. Ryker is annoying as hell, and he doesn’t exactly have the best personal track record with me either, but I think he’s a good guy. He’s been through a lot and has made some bad decisions. That doesn’t mean he should be counted out on inheriting his family’s company and running it.
“We’ll talk again soon.” Dad hangs up the phone without saying anything else. I don’t know how long I stare at the black screen of my phone. It could be one minute, it could be ten. The longer I let my mind analyze the phone call I just had with him, the more I realize he might not intend to make me partner at the firm. At least not yet.
He gave me what he thinks is an impossible task. Pride had bloomed in my chest when he told me he’d make me a partner at the firm if I could turn the Davenport Media board in Ryker’s favor. For the first time, I felt like my dad believed in me…that I was worth something.
It turns out he only said yes because he wanted the easy payout. We get paid whether or not Ryker gets accepted at the end of the summer.
I close my eyes and let my entire body become eerily still. I remember all the techniques I’ve learned to calm my body. I focus on using my diaphragm, pulling air in through my nose. I hold it in for a moment, letting the air expand my lungs before letting the breath out slowly through my mouth.
I repeat the steps a few times, trying my best to stay calm as it feels like the walls begin to close around me.
I had hope.
Hope that my father believed in me.
That for the first time in my life, I might actually impress him.
I was so close to proving myself to him. At least, I thought I was.
I allow myself a moment to let the realization set in. I continue to take deep breaths in and out as I come to terms with the fact that my dad doesn’t think I can do this. He doesn’t want me to be a partner. If I became one, he’d have to treat me as an equal, and I’m realizing that isn’t something he ever intends to do.
If he doesn’t believe Ryker can get the board’s approval, he’s about to find out how wrong he is.
Ryker will get the approval of the Davenport Media board if it’s the last thing I do. I’m going to become a partner at the firm, and there’s nothing my dad will be able to do to stop it.
I’m going to prove myself to him.
I slide off my bed and grab my laptop and binder of plans from the top of the dresser. I felt fairly confident after the dinner meeting with Ryker, but there’s still more work that can be done.
The moon is high in the sky by the time I finally call it a night and let myself crawl into bed to try and get some sleep.
Tomorrow, the real work begins on getting Ryker that board approval that we both desperately need him to get. I’ve got a plan, and I feel good about what we can accomplish this summer.
My only issue is that so much of this depends on Ryker Davenport. He’s the one man I can’t stand, but he’s also the only person standing in the way of proving to my dad once and for all that I’m worthy of being his equal.
ELEVEN
RYKER
“And where doyou think you’re going?” Camille calls from the kitchen, her voice void of any humor.
I freeze in the doorway. I was so close to sneaking out of the house without her noticing. She must have supersonic hearing because my attempt to leave has me at the side door of the house, something she shouldn’t be able to hear or see from her room.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, pressing my forehead against the door. It’s been a little over a week since we got to the Hamptons, and I’m bored out of my mind.
The familiar sound of heels clicking against hardwood floors tells me Camille is heading in my direction.
“Hi,” she says, her voice coming from behind me.
“Hi,” I mutter, pressing my face against the door because I can’t take another day stuck in this house with her. I’ve done enough planning to last a lifetime. I’ve also done enough arguing to last me forever. I’m not typically one who argues with others. I’m a pretty agreeable guy. But fuck, there’s something about Camille that just makes me want to argue with her every step of the way.
“Going somewhere?” she asks. I don’t even have to look back at her to know the position she’s likely standing in, with her arms crossed against her chest—something she’s always doing when it comes to me—and wearing that scowl that seems to be saved just for me as well.
