"Marc and Stephanie are happy, and the church was decorated with lots of flowers."
That makes my father laugh.
"You're the worst storyteller I know," he says, drinking more coffee.
"It was a wedding. Just like many others." Before he can dig for more, I ask, "Why am I here?"
"Can't a father ask his son to come home so he can be closer to his family?"
"What are you planning?" I worry he wants me to take over the company, and that doesn’t fit into my plans at all. My life is headed in a different direction.
"I’d like you to get more involved in the company," he begins, and I immediately stand up. I need to look off into the distance to keep my temper in check. Unfortunately, central London doesn’t exactly have a calming view. From here I can see Big Ben and the crowded streets. This city holds nothing for me. New York was my goal. That’s where I built a life. Now I’ve landed back in theprovinces.
"In recent weeks, I’ve had many conversations with potential candidates. Some inside the company, many from outside. They all have their strengths, but of course I’d prefer the company to stay in the family. As my only son, it would be your inheritance."
"I was in the process of starting my own company in New York. The program is almost complete."
"Then integrate it into ours. What’s the problem?"
"I employ nine people in New York. They’d all be out of a job overnight."
"Buy them out. Compensate them. If the idea is that important to you, then that’s the way. Or bring them here if you think you’ll work better with them."
That makes me perk up. I look back at him as he helps himself to another bite.
"I could bring them here?"
"Of course." He gestures toward the food. "Come on, help yourself."
I sit back down and try some of the delicacies he ordered for us.
"That certainly makes things more interesting," I admit. "You were against it before. What made you take a step toward me now and actually respect my wishes?" The other candidates must have been terrible.
"Get your mother a proper Christmas gift, and we’ll never speak of it again."
I get it. I’m the only one he really trusts.
"I’ll talk to my employees and either compensate them generously or bring them to London." I’ll call my lawyer later to draft the contracts.
"By the way, who was that woman here earlier?" I ask.
"That’s Miss London Waverley. She’s been my PA for three years," my father explains enthusiastically. "She’s never missed a day of work. I can always reach her. She’s a huge support and knows the company inside and out. Her best qualities are her punctuality and her exceptionally good manners. She’s always well-groomed and well-dressed. She takes great care of her appearance. She’s athletic. Slim. Never a gray hair, always subtle makeup. And she’s sharp, intelligent. If I had to step away for a few days, she could hide my absence from the entire staff."
He smiles and adds, "She’s the daughter I never had." I wonder if he talks about me like that when I’m not in the room.
"I assume she’ll become my PA once you finally take your well-deserved retirement?"
"Well, I certainly hope so."
I raise both eyebrows at that. Does this mean my father isn’t insisting I take over?
"She’s never done anything wrong. You won’t find anyone better."
"I’d rather hire someone new," I say.
"That wouldn’t be wise," he dismisses. "Or are you worried you might fall in love with her?"
I give him a confused look, which makes him laugh.