Page 37 of Accidentally Falling for Her
I knock, and after a moment, the click of the lock sounds and he opens the door, brow raised in question when he sees us standing there. “Arthur, what are you doing here?” he asks, completely ignoring me, yet again.
“Good morning, sir. Aspen asked me to come over so we could all discuss something, but that’s all I know at this point,” he says with a shrug. “May we come in?”
My father looks between us skeptically, but finally grunts an acknowledgement and opens the door further to allow us inside. His office is all dark wood with fancy moldings and no personality. A large desk is set up in the center with two chairs in front of it that Arthur and I take as my father rounds the desk to sit in his chair, facing us.
“Father, I am here with the intention of convincing you to sell me back your stake in my company,” I say confidently. “You’ve made back far more than you initially invested, and I’d be willing to buy the shares at a premium.”
My father is rolling his eyes before I can even finish. “I’ve told you before, I have no interest in selling,” he says dismissively.
“And I have no interest in you putting my brand at risk by associating with you,” I respond.
“Why would I possibly want to hurt your business if it's making me money?” he asks, saying each word slowly as though I wouldn’t understand what he’s saying.
“Father, after dinner last night, I am very concerned about your behavior,” I say, continuing with the same confidence. “You were so casually cruel and discriminatory against marginalized communities, communities that no doubt make up some of the people you are supposed to represent in the House. If anyone ever heard you say those things, you’d be destroyed online. Completely canceled," I explain.
“Sir, is this true?” Arthur asks, sounding genuinely shocked.
My father looks like he’s prepared to dismiss me until Arthur expresses his concern, and he turns to give him his full attention. “Of course it isn’t true,” he scoffs.
“I was recording you,” I inform him, and he finally looks at me, a storm of anger and confusion warring in his gaze.
He stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “So what if you did? I’m sure whatever I said was fine.”
“Arthur, I think you should hear this,” I say, ignoring my father as I pull up a copy of the recording on my phone. The entire time it’s playing, Arthur pretends to be more surprised, the look of worry on his face growing more and more dramatic as it goes on.
He’s a little too good at this. Are there acting classes in law school?
When the recording ends, Arthur turns to my father, faking alarm. “Sir, I think Aspen might be right about the public reaction to this.” My father rolls his eyes but Arthur continues. “Cancel culture is a very real thing right now. I’ve seen public figures lose all support over less extreme statements.”
My father turns to glare at me. “So just don’t show anyone,” he says in a threatening tone. “Why were you recording me anyway?”
“Because I want you out of my company,” I remind him. “I won’t show anyone else, and I’ll delete all the copies I’ve made if you agree to sell me your shares,” I promise. He’squiet for a moment, glancing between Arthur and me as he thinks, probably debating if I’d actually risk both of our reputations by exposing him. “It might hurt my name to be associated with you if this got out, but not as much as it would hurt you,” I assure him.
“Why do you want me out so badly?” he demands, sounding genuinely confused. “This has to be about more than your profits or some offhand comment I made.”
“It is,” I agree. “I can tell you everything after you’ve sold,” I offer, pulling a manilla envelope from the large bag I brought. “Arthur, you’re a notary, right?” I ask.
He nods. “I brought my seal just like you asked,” he confirms.
I smile in thanks before giving my attention back to my father. “My lawyers have prepared all the necessary documents, and I have my banker on standby to initiate a transfer to your account that I think is more than fair.”
He doesn’t say anything at first. For the first time in my life, I think my father isreallylooking at me. Not at his daughter that he sees as an extension of himself, an accessory for his perfect political family, but at me as an actual human being with opinions and capabilities that differ from his own. I wouldn’t dare to say he’s showing me any sort of respect, but there’s a definite shift in the way he’s assessing me.
After another long minute of silence, he finally lets out an annoyed sigh and snatches the papers from me, muttering to himself as he scans the documents. It’s all very straightforward,and my offer really is generous—I didn’t want to deal with negotiations if he was cooperating. “Fine,” he spits out, grabbing a pen and signing everywhere that’s marked.
I’ve already pre-signed my part. I can’t get my leg to stop bouncing as I wait, holding my breath as Arthur does his thing, confirming that everything has been filled out correctly before signing and adding his seal.
“It’s done?” I ask, voice barely a whisper with how nervous I am. When he nods, the relief I feel is unlike anything I’ve experienced. I sag in my chair and suck in a deep breath as I try to calm my racing heart. I feel like I could float away right now with how light I feel now that I’m no longer tethered to this man. I send the message to my finance guy to initiate the transfer and show my father the confirmation message.
“So what was this really all about?” he asks, crossing his arms as he glares at me.
I hold up a finger asking him to wait as I pull up my mother’s contact to call, putting it on speaker.
“Yes, Aspen, what is it?” she asks without pleasantries, so I don’t bother with any either.
I look right at my father, holding eye contact as a smile takes over my face. “I’m a lesbian,” I announce, and my father’s stare manages to harden even more. “I’m in love with a woman, and I know how much you both disapprove of that. Hopefully this will be the last visit I ever make. Goodbye,” I say, hanging up the phone as I stand to leave.
Arthur quickly follows, still gripping the papers. “We need to immediately make copies and file these,” he suggests as we speed walk to the front door where I already have all my bags waiting, along with Parker’s. I’ll bring his to the hospital later. Arthur helps me load everything into his car, and as we speed away down the long tree-covered drive, I say a silent and very happy goodbye to the house I grew up in.
