Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“It just seems like an extreme choice in response to your dad’s stipulations. I mean, do you really think you wouldn’t be able to obtain the funds for the final five percent?”
“I don’t know. I ran the numbers and predictions about market value with an accountant to confirm what Lucian said about how much it would cost in five years to buy my way into majority shares. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right,” I grumbled. “And the way we fight day in and day out, I wouldn’t put it past him to be a spiteful asshole and change the name of this company—my company.”
“So, you decided to marry the spiteful asshole?” she asked slowly, with narrowed eyes.
“It’s only five years,” I defended. “And…”
Shiloh smirked. “And the sexual exploration.”
“And the sexual exploration,” I agreed.
“That hasn’t included sex.”
“Other than once.”
Another sigh, that left me with the same feeling I had with my dad who I always managed to make sigh, too. “I’m just worried about you. It sounds like the reason your father wanted you to wait five years to take on the company was so you had the opportunity to explore life and make sure this is what you really want. Tying yourself to a man you don’t even like seems to be the complete opposite of that. And not that I agree with the way he did it, but you’re young and haven’t worked anywhere else. Hell, while most kids spent their summers exploring and working part time, you spent more than forty hours demanding to be my intern. While most kids went on spring break in college, you shadowed your dad. You’re only twenty-five, and I wonder how much you’ve experienced.”
Anger reignited from when Dad first surprised me with his retirement. The way he sold part of the shares to a stranger without even consulting me came as a sucker punch that stole my breath all over again. The way he demanded I needed to go on some self-discovery made me doubt how much he knew me.
“I don’t need to gain drunken experiences with a bunch of frat boys at a beach to know who I am and what I want. I don’t need to work at a new place each summer to know that this company is where I want to be. I know myself,” I claimed confidently despite the whispered doubt that never faded. The one that asked if I knew myself so well, then why was I learning a whole new side with Lucian? I shook the thought aside. “This company is everything I’ve worked for because it has been my foundation that has never failed to ground me when life was a shit show. This company has been my constant. This company has been my success, my determination, and my future. I never imagined anything else, because I didn’t want to. And there isn’t anything wrong with that.”
“There isn’t,” she confirmed. “I might not have been a teenage intern, but music has always been my constant and, since I lacked music creativity and talent, being on the business side has been everything I wanted and more. I may have worked at McDonalds first, but as soon as I went to college and discovered the other jobs, I knew it was what I wanted. I get it, but I can also understand a father looking out for his daughter. I know mine did things that pissed me off when he thought he knew best.”
I hate this. I hate this feeling of uncertainty. Where once I could clearly picture my future, now all I see are murky images in darkness. But I guess at least I have that. Before this arrangement with Lucian, I felt like I was fumbling through darkness, constantly turned around and unable to see what came next. I guess when he asked, I latched on to the first thing that felt solid beneath my searching hands—something to ground me and guide me in the dark. Something that offered the slightest hint of control in where I stepped next. Something that illuminated the darkness enough for me to start creating a new image of my future. Even if it is blurry and misshapen as hell. “Ugh,” I groaned, tossing my hands and letting them flop back to the cushions. “Why can’t he just trust me? Why couldn’t he have talked to me first?”
“Have you talked to him?” she asked cautiously. “About finding an alternative to the contract? Maybe you could come to a compromise that ensures you gain the five percent without the possibility of losing it?”
“No,” I muttered with a side eye. “Where do you think I get my stubbornness from? He won’t change his mind. And despite what Mr. Dumb-dumb thinks, I’ve earned my position here. Dad would have it no other way. He knew how privileged we were and ensured I worked hard because he refused to let me grow up to be an entitled snot,” I explained with air quotes.