Alarm races through me. “What do you mean, everything?”
“The entire business. He wants you to take over soon. You have to know this.”
“He’s never mentioned it to me before.”
“I suppose it’s an unspoken expectation. Your father has lots of those.” She crosses her arms, plumping up her breasts. “He’s allowing you to go to college, so you can get it out of your system, as he says.”
“Get what out of my system?”
“Partying. Football. Whatever else you do. Once you graduate, you’re expected to come work for him.” She steps even closer to me, her robe brushing against my bare legs, and rests her hand right at the center of my chest. “Your skin is so hot.”
I take a step back and her hand drops. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing.” She blinks at me, her baby blues wide. “Just trying to help you understand what’s going on here, and what’s expected of you.”
“It looks like you’re trying to get with me,” I say, sneering.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Why would I need to do that, when I have your father in my bed every night? You’re just a baby.”
“I’m closer in age to you than he is,” I remind her.
Her lips form into a tight line, ignoring what I said. “Just—be smart, Tony. Align yourself with the right people.”
“Or what?” I ask.
“Or you’ll find yourself on the wrong side of your father, and you don’t want that,” she says.
“What happens if I don’t want to take over the business?” I don’t know why I asked her that, but she’s closer to my father than I am. I haven’t figured him out yet. I never really have. And it’s not like he’s talking business with me right now. It’s all happy reunion and let’s have a good time vibes coming from him.
Guess he was going to hit me with the heavy business stuff later.
“Then he’ll sell it to someone else, I suppose. Which is the wrong move, if you ask me. He has no desire to let me help. Claims I wouldn’t understand. And the girls are too young. Even if they were older, he wouldn’t leave it to them. He says what he does isn’t women’s work.” Her voice is filled with disgust.
Charming. My father is a sexist asshole. “I don’t want it.”
“You’d be a fucking fool to give it up. Don’t be stupid. You could make the business grow. Make it bigger.” She smiles, and it’s this cunning curl of her lips. I would
n’t be surprised if her tongue snuck out and she licked them right now. “I could help you.”
“I need to take a shower.” I took one last night, but she doesn’t know that. “You should leave.”
She doesn’t move. Just stares at me for a moment, contemplative. “Do you need assistance?” she finally asks.
As if she’s offering her own personal services…
What am I even thinking? Of course, she’s offering herself up as “help”.
“I thought I was too young for you.”
“I could teach you a few things,” she offers.
“No.” I tip my head toward the door. “You should leave.”
She turns away, her robe fanning out like a cape. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she says as she makes her way for the door. “Just think about what I said, Tony. And know that your stepmother will always be here for you. Whenever you need me.”
The door quietly shuts, the soft click ringing loud in the room, and I rush toward it, not subtly when I turn the lock as loud as possible. I don’t need that bitch coming back in here.
I return to the bed, yanking the covers up before I grab my phone. What the fuck is going on here? I feel like I’m trapped in some sort of mystery movie, where everyone is making a move on each other, and nothing is what it seems.