Page 4 of The Wedding Hoax

Paul nodded before leaving my office. A few seconds later, my dad stepped through the door. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, despite his usual gruff exterior. Retirement seemed to have that effect on people, softening them out over time. Even if it was just their clothing choices.

“Son.”

“Dad.”

“I just wanted to check up on you,” he started. “You’re always so busy nowadays. I figured finding you at the office would be a safe bet.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? The kind of son who works hard. The kind of son who wants to take over the company someday—”

“The kind of son who’s going to be married soon, I hope?” He interrupted. “You know the rules, Harry. If you’re not married by your fortieth birthday, I won’t be able to officially hand you the keys to the company.”

“You hear how that sounds, right? Married by my fortieth birthday? It’s like a fucked-up fairy tale.”

“Language.”

“Sorry. It’s like a fucked-up fucking fairy tale—”

“That’s always how it’s been in our family, Harry. You’ve known that your whole life. We were never going to break tradition just because you don’t respect it.”

“So, what? All of my years running this place don’t count for anything?”

“I’m proud of you for stepping up, Harry. More proud than I’ve ever been… but no. That doesn’t change the tradition.”

“If I’m not running the company, then your only other option is Sean.” I scoffed. “I love my little brother, sure, but he doesn’t have any experience in publishing, Dad. I don’t even know if he likes it.”

“He works for a magazine, same as you—”

“He works in the IT department! And he works at Front Stoop—our competition!” I scoffed again. “Dad, come on. You can’t be serious with this.”

“You’re the one who needs to get serious, Harry,” he replied. “When are you going to settle down? Find someone to build with? To share your life with?”

“I already have someone like that in my life. Her name is LA Now.”

“Funny.” My dad wasn’t smiling as he spoke. “Is that really all you want your legacy to be? Is that the kind of legacy you think our family name deserves?”

“Maybe I’m not the marrying type.”

“If you’re not the marrying type, then you’re not fit to be CEO. You don’t know how to commit to something bigger than financial spreadsheets and quarterly reports? Then you don’t know how to commit to anything—”

“It’s under control,” I blurted out, cutting my father off.

“What?”

“It’s under control,” I repeated. “Just because I’m not the marrying type doesn’t mean that I haven’t met someone. I never said I was single.”

“Are you serious?” My dad’s face brightened. “You met someone?”

“Yes, and she’s like you. Extremely ready for me to settle down, even if I think we need more time, even if I don’t want to be forced into it because of tradition—”

“She sounds like a smart girl.” He beamed. “When do your mother and I get to meet her?”

I huffed. “I need to get back to work. We can discuss all this later when I don’t have back-to-back meetings.”

“Sure, sure. Of course.” He seemed relieved as he stood up. “We’ll talk about it later, son. Good job. As always.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I watched him walk out the door and swallowed.

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