Page 67 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
I gently roll Jenna out of my arms and walk a few steps away before answering.
"Mother?" I say, keeping my voice low.
"Grayson." Her tone is high-pitched and strained. "You sound tired. Are you okay, baby?"
"I'm fine. What do you need?"
"Now that's no way to talk to your mother."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes like a teenager. "Apologies. What did you need, Mother?"
She makes a small sound of indignation, and I smile. I'd almost forgotten how fun it is to tease her.
"Your father told me you met with him and George."
Just like that, my amusement evaporates.
"Yeah."
"And you told him you'd leave the company if George became CEO?"
"I did."
"Oh, Grayson. I understand your frustration, but that's not the way to go about things. Your father is beside himself because you said that. He's so upset that you would even think such a thing. You know it's not about you—it's not personal. He just wants the Wolfe Group to stay a family business. I know youwant him to change his mind about George, but this isn't how we?—"
"I didn't say it to change his mind," I interrupt. "I said it because it's true. I could have just walked away without warning him, but that would've been even crueler. At least this way, if he still decides to be dumb enough to put George—George, of all people—in charge, he'll be doing it in full knowledge of the consequences."
A silence stretches on the other end before she says quietly, "It's still cruel, Grayson. You really broke your father's heart today. I think he wants you to reach out, maybe explain yourself a little more, even if you don't take it back."
"Why is it always about what someone else wants, Mom?" I snap. "Dad wants this. George wants that. What about what I want?"
"Of course we care what you want. How could you even suggest otherwise?"
Because you all act otherwise.
"Good," I say dryly. "Then here it is: I don't want to work for George. My work is my life, and I'm not pouring my life into something that isn't mine at the end of the day."
"You'll still hold major shares, Grayson. You'll stay on the board and make key decisions, and I'm sure your brother will seek your expertise. Not to mention you'd be head of the European branch."
"It's not the same, and you know it. The European branch still answers to headquarters. It's not independent. I'd be able to make suggestions, not decisions. After everything I've built—everything I've sacrificed—I'm not about to sit back and watch someone else call the shots. Especially not George. He's neither qualified nor experienced, and I am."
She can't argue with that, so she says nothing.
"I'll tell you why Dad's really panicking," I go on. "He expected me to be around to cover George's screwups. That's the plan—me doing the work while George takes the credit, just so Dad can stroke his ego enough to make sure he raises his own son to take over later. If he wanted George this whole time, why didn't he train him like he trained me?"
"He tried," my mother answers softly—and she's right. Dad did try to groom George for the business, the same way he did with me. The problem is, George never had the knack. He's too soft-spoken, full of self-doubt, can't read risk, makes poor decisions, then doubles down trying to fix them—and just digs the hole deeper.
Worse, he lacks drive. No fire. Business doesn't excite him. You can't have a man-child running a multi-billion-dollar corporation like the Wolfe Group. It won't work, and the shareholders will see it instantly.
"I have to go, Mom," I say at last. "We'll talk later."
"Okay. Will you be coming to dinner on Saturday?"
I'm about to refuse but stop myself. "Sure. Jenna and I would love to come."
"Grayson…" Her voice darkens with warning.
"Bye, Mom."
