I scoff. “Dad, you can’t be fucking serious right now,” I shout. “Um, let’s recount Harry’s perfect life, shall we?”
My father shifts his weight uncomfortably and rolls his eyes, but he’s silent. Apparently he’s going to let me grab the reins and roll off on this little tangent.
“Don’t forget, Daddy: Harry sleeps around, fucking anything that moves. He never comes here to sit in on these business meetings…”
Richmore Quinn interrupts me. “These are lunches, not business meetings.”
“Stop!” I hold up a hand to hush him. “He sleeps on the job; he’s rarely spotted in his office…I mean, Daddy, the list goes on and on,” I state.
My father and I stare at each other for a few seconds, neither one of us having the balls to cave. Then my father roars in anger, sending shivers up my spine, once again trying to put me in my place.
“Molly, that’s enough,” he yells. “You have no right to speak to me this way or question my choices. I am your father,” he states firmly. “If you were better at decision-making and conflict-resolution, then I would have named you as the CEO, not Harry. It’s plain and simple Molly, black and white. There’s no grey line here.” He points a finger at me.
“Daddy,” I whisper softly and look at the floor.
“Another thing,” he belts out. “You never take risks. Harry lives for the adventure, and he’s always coming up with new ways to develop the company and knock it out of the ballpark. That’s Harry’s primary edge!” My father spouts.
“You really think I’m that pathetic?” I look up at my father.
My father scoffs. “Why would I ever want a boring person with a stick permanently up their ass to inherit my company? Molly, you would run it into the ground the second you got your hands on it. This is the entertainment business, and things have to be fast-paced all the time.”
Wow. That fucking hurts.
I push past my father, ready to run from the room and throw up the lunch currently forming a solid rock in my gut.
“Where are you going?” my father calls behind me.
“I’m asking to be excused, Daddy,” I say, hatred lacing my words, not looking back as I run out of the manor and into the blinding sunlight.
8
Molly
I sit in the backseat of my town car, waiting for the driver to get back to the city. We’re almost there. Hardly any traffic congestion awaits us on the journey back, which is totally out of the norm.
I look out the window, and it looks like it might be getting cloudy outside. Perhaps a summer rainstorm is on the way.
I sigh and lean back in my seat, closing my eyes briefly. I take this time to contemplate my father’s words to me. No matter how harsh they are, I know deep down they’re true.
That still doesn’t make me feel any better, and for the moment, I detest him?as horrible as that is to say about my own father. In the end, I know I’ll kill more flies with honey. I’ll grin and bear it when I have to do, but at least for a few moments, I let myself sulk.
I know I play it safe, and I don’t have what you would exactly call a ‘wild side,’ but I like order and organization?it’s just who I am.
It’s not like I can completely change my personality at the drop of a fucking hat.
Or can I…?
I lose myself in thought as I contemplate ways to be more carefree and less uptight.
Then it hits me.
Fuck yes! I know exactly where to begin.
I have to prove to my father and his little fucking minions that I’m the type to take risks.
I pull out Owen’s business card. I graze my thumb against its grooved surface.
I smile to myself and read the print on top.