Page 14 of Great Pretender
Dad waves his hand over the assortment. “This behavior is not acceptable. It doesn’t matter what you did. It’s not acceptable, Chad. You are thirty years old, and you’re in a great position. I know you want the team, and I want you to have the team. God knows I do. But you don’t deserve it. Not when you behave like this. Like a drunken fool making all of us look bad.”
“I lost control after—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He holds up his hand. “The reasons don’t change what the public has already seen. The truth of the matter is this, Chad, the investors, are threatening to pull out if I’m thinking of giving you the team.”
I dip my head. It’s game over. The investors already can’t stand me. I sigh and move my gaze up to meet Dad’s.
“Dad, how can I fix this? I want the team more than anything. I fucked up.”
“Yes, you did. What you did was juvenile, and I realize it’s because you’re a spoiled brat. Juvenile. You may be a grown man, but you’ve lived this privileged, frivolous lifestyle where you’re above everybody. It’s my team, so if you want this, you will follow my terms.”
“Terms?”
I don’t like the wicked glint in his eye, but I dare not challenge him on his comments since I think he’s right even if I’ve worked my ass off for the last few months by picking some gold mine players at the last draft who have been a great addition to the team.
“Things change here, son. My terms are as follows: number one, no more loose women or bed friends. No more women who can sell shit to papers and earn a monthly living off their stories about you.” He points to the copy ofThe Gossip, which I’ve only just noticed. “That brings me to term number two. You’re the way you are because you don’t value the most important thing in life. Family”
“I do value my family, Dad,” I interrupt.
“That’s what I mean. Your mother and I are guilty of spoiling you because we were told the chances of us getting pregnant with you were next to none. We spoiled you rotten, and that’s why you think you can get away with everything.” He intensifies his gaze on me. “My second term is the most important, and that’s why I’ve taken the liberty of relieving you of a majority of tasks.”
“What is it, Dad?” The fucking suspense is killing me, eating at me from the inside out.
“I retire in six months, on the thirtieth of November. By that day, I want you to have found a woman you can settle down with. Not one of these opportunistic women. I want you to find a woman you want to marry. If I see sufficient evidence of you meeting my terms, I’ll allow a trial period of ownership of the company. Following that, I’ll give you a year to tie the knot. Then, and only then, will the entire business and team be signed over to you.”
Oh. My. God.
I’m stuck on his first few words. Stuck, shocked, astonished. Flabbergasted. I feel all of it, and I can’t believe what the fuck I’m hearing.
“Dad… what the actual fuck?” I glare at him.
“You heard me. I’m tired of the shit, son. I’m not getting any younger, and we’ve talked about you settling down before. I thought it would be the reasonable thing to do not to meddle in your private life, but when your private life starts affecting the business and the image of this company, I think it’s time to put my foot down.”
“And this is how you do it? You force me to get married?”
“Sometimes, forcing a person into a good thing helps them find their way.”
“This is ridiculous. How can you insist on something like this?”
“I just did. It is my wish for you.”
“Your wish? So, what does sufficient evidence look like to you? An engagement ring?” I’m joking, obviously, but my already heated blood boils when he nods. “Dad, what the hell? This is bullshit. There you are, talking to me about me being a man, and you’re treating me like a child.”
“Son, I already knew I was going to fight this battle with you, so I prepped for everything you would want to throw at me. This is what I want.”
“You want me to find a woman and get married within eighteen months?” I figured I’d spell it out just like that so he can hear the absurdity.
“Yes. Of course, if everything happens sooner, then you’ll get what you want sooner.”
Fuck.He’s actually serious.
“Dad, my God. This is crazy,” I retort. “You want me to grab some woman and get married.”
“No, you aren’t doing that. That isn’t what I want at all. The point in doing it this way is you taking your time to find the special woman. The way I found your mother.”
Oh, God. Now is not the time to hear about how they met. “You and Mom are different. People don’t meet the way you two did.”
My parents met at a college game. Dad looked at my mother and told her she was going to be his wife someday soon. They got married six months after college. That was 1985. They were from theBack to the Future,Never Ending Story, MC Hammer pants, and eighties-music-loving era where everything was fantastic, and people fell in love at the drop of a hat. It was just a little better than the seventies.
