Page 11 of My Forbidden Boss

“I have to convert approximately eighty percent of that liquid cash into some other kind of asset by the end of October. Those assets can include investments that aren’t necessarily physical, meaning that some of it can be ownership in public companies, futures, that kind of stuff. After the election in November, we’ll have a better idea of what’s coming next April, and we will be able to decide if we need to convert anything more before the fiscal year timeout sets in.”

His eyes widened. “Eighty percent?! You have to spend eighty percent of the money Ryan gave you… by October?!”

I nodded with an expression that could only be described as mourning. “I think I’ve slept, in total, about seven hours over the past week and a half. Dad, do you know how many employees I had six months ago?”

“I don’t know… a couple hundred?”

I nodded. “Including salary management, full-time franchisees, chefs and full-time kitchen staff, part-time cooks, waiters, bar-staff, delivery drivers, catering teams, custodial staff, hosts and hostesses, sommeliers, busboys, valet drivers, drive-thru window workers, window washers… hell… even counting the guys who cut the grass and blow the leaves. I had a little under six hundred mouths in my nest. Six hundred faces looking up at me for a reliable, decent paycheck that they could rely on. I was comfortable with that. It’s a big responsibility, but it took me a long time to slowly gradually build up to that. We were always growing, but it was steady. Predictable. I was probably a little lazy and relaxed about it, considering most people want to expand as fast as possible and rake in as much money as quickly as they can. I was perfectly content to let things stay calm, boring, slow, and steady.”

I turned back to the room and stared at Ryan as he took a seat with Lizzy in his lap.

“Dad… Do you want to know how many employees I have, as of… about an hour ago, the last time I checked?”

I didn’t hear anything from my dad. I rightfully assumed that he nodded, maybe impressed by the first number and unwilling to even try to ascertain just how much higher it possibly could have grown.

“Dad, because of Ryan, I am now the employer of over ninety thousand people. And that number isn’t even close to what it’s going to be three months from now. If I told you how many contractors and subcontractors on top of that, people and businesses that I also have committed money to, you’d probably slap me in the face. It’s like… ‘Let’s go to the moon’ kind of numbers. I own something like four thousand different companies right now. Once again, that number is nothing compared to what it will have to be by the time we’re done. It’s insane. My lawyers hate me. If they weren’t busy building college funds for their great, great, great grandchildren's kids, they would probably be plotting my assassination right now. The post office stopped delivering my mail. They just drop off a semi-trailer every night and pick up the one we’ve emptied over the course of the day from the night before. Some days there are two trucks. Those are the worst, and I just know that it’s only a matter of time before it becomes routine. The thought of three showing up at once seriously gives me nightmares. I’m losing my mind, Dad, and it’s… all… Ryan’s… fault. Yes, it was one of the nicest, most selfless things anyone has ever done for me. Take a good look, Dad, enjoy your eldest son’s wedding celebration. Soon, I’ll be standing over a giant pit that I’ve bought with his money, looking down at Ryan and cackling crazily as my army of employees uses cranes and dump trucks to flood the pit. Snakes? Spiders? No, that wouldn’t be an eye for an eye. I’m going to watch as I bury him alive with… cotton candy… or gummy bears. Maybe… little fluffy bunnies or sprinkles or something. Churros. I would give anything to see him trying to swim his way out of a tidal wave of churros.”

Dad’s chuckling brought my searing, dumbfounded stare back to him. He wheezed with such effort that, eventually, when I realized that he physically couldn’t stop, it even brought a small, pained smile to my face. When he leaned forward and started to cough, I became concerned, but he pushed me back when I tried to help. Dad just kept on laughing until, finally, everyone was seated, and we were both forced obligatorily into silence.

“Hey, Hollis, the food was fantastic.”

“Yes, thank you. I couldn’t have imagined or asked for anything nicer.”

I forced a tired smile toward Ryan but bent toward Harley and accepted her embrace, kissing her cheek on the eve of our siblinghood. “Oh, don’t mention it. I just work here. And really, barely even that. I just keep the lights turned on, the kitchen full of food, and the bar full of booze. But I will make sure and tell the hardworking folks doing all of the real work that their efforts were all worth it.”

They laughed, and I continued. “You’ve always been like a sister to me, Harley, and tomorrow it’ll finally be official. It really is a good thing… because I’m ready to give up your fiancé here as a brother, but I’d like to keep my number of siblings at two. It’s just a good number to be at, and I guess that I’ve gotten attached to an even number.”

She smiled but seemed confused. Ryan knew better and bowed his head, accepting the jab gracefully. I had already told him multiple times how little I enjoyed his latest involvement in my affairs.

I gave her a smile, which didn’t reach my eyes. “Eh, I’m only kidding, of course. Three is a much better number, and, together, we’ll make four, keeping the evenness intact. It’s all perfect, and I could not be happier for you two. I will see you both bright and early for the big ceremony, alright?”

Both of their faces gleamed and glowed as they turned toward one another at the reminder of tomorrow’s promises. Ryan adjusted Lizzy, sleeping on his shoulder, and my heart sank inside me. I meant what I said, I honestly was thrilled for them, but I couldn’t help recognizing, with more than a molecule of jealousy and envy, that which I wondered if I would ever experience myself.

I shook the thought from my head as I retreated through the kitchens, producing a wooden crate of champagne from a cooler and giving it to the restaurant chef and manager as a gift for them to share my gratitude with their staff. This was my first serious restaurant, owned since the first day that I could legally sign my name on the contracts. It was special for me that Ryan and Harley had accepted my invitation to dine there for their wedding rehearsal, but now that the event was over, the pride that was there had fully evaporated, leaving only my earlier aftertaste of bitter doubts. As I exited the back of the building and climbed into my truck, I found myself spinning between wonder and qualms like a circle of indecision.

Would I ever know how that feels? How could I? I don’t know any woman whose face fits that picture.

I drove straight home, ready to collapse into bed. I parked sloppily and stumbled across the driveway, lost in thought. The interior lights of my house illuminated a familiar place, my own temple that I had long cared for and felt proud of. The glow of recessed lamps revealed the front foyer’s large panel of pictures, a crossword of frames and images that I’d hung together over the years.

I repeatedly blinked, trying to keep my eyes open just a little bit longer as the door swung shut in my wake.

I walked over, trying to stretch out the muscles knotting a rope up my spine. I stopped and stood still, if a little slumped, in front of one photo in particular. It showed my parents on their front porch, both smiling broadly and naturally. A film of glass feathered my already blurred vision as a lonely sadness filled my chest.

I touched the picture’s glass, smoothing a speck of dust from my late mother’s cheek but leaving a fingerprint instead. I sniffed and sighed, turning away and moving to my living room’s coffee table. On the top, a pile of leaning paperwork sat next to a tower of contracts.

I cleared a small space and sat, forcing my mind back to my work, realizing that there was a lot I needed to do before I could even consider going to sleep.

Settling in for the long night ahead, I glanced back to the front hallway where my parents’ picture hung, hidden behind the wall.

Someday, maybe. But first...

I turned back and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sipping a mug of day-old coffee as I searched through a sequence of land parcels that might be worth my consideration.

Tisha

“You only have one more day of vacation. Is this not how you thought you’d be spending it?”

I stared flatly at Brandon. “Vacation? Do you mean moving? Seriously? Since when is moving considered a vacation?”

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