“Look Mr. Garfield, I know the man was my father-in-law, and I hate to say this, but he was clearly insane when he wrote this will. Finn has worked so hard bettering this company and quite frankly, he deserves better,” my mom states.
“I’m not here to debate what your son deserves, Helen,” Andrew replies. “I’m here to see to it that your father-in-law’s will is adhered to. He wasn’t insane when the will was drafted, as three separate psychiatrists attested to, in the event you tried to pull that card.” He turns his attention back to me. “The choice is simple Finn. You remain at the company as an employee with a big office, an obscene salary, and a fancy title, or you marry Ashley Winters and run the company as you see fit. That’s really all there is to say on the matter. I’ll leave you my card and you can call me when you have made your decision. You have three business days to decide, and if I don’t hear from you within that time frame, then the company goes on the market.”
“Three days,” my mother gasps incredulously. “That’s not enough time to bake a fruit cake.”
“I’ll do it,” I say. I never had any real doubt in my mind. I would do it. I would show my grandpa I am worthy one last time and I would keep the company I’d turned around with my blood, sweat, and tears, if it was the last thing I ever did.
“Finn, you don’t have to do this,” my father cautions. “Those aren’t the only two choices. You can walk into any firm in the city, and get a real job where you have real power and real responsibilities. Better still, you can start your own. Between you and me, we have enough.”
“I know that, Dad, but it wouldn’t be the same. I can’t walk away. Not after I have given everything to this company. I can’t see it fall into the hands of a board who knows nothing about the current market trends and watch them run it into the ground.”
“But you’ve never even met this girl,” my mom cries.
I shrug. “It will only be a marriage of convenience.” I don’t add on the rest of what I’m thinking. It’ll be a quick wedding, a quiet affair no one needs to know about, followed by a few months of pretense, and then an even quicker divorce.
“But you two might hate each other,” my mom adds unhappily.
“So what? That’s how most marriages end up anyway.”
My mother looks totally dismayed and my father hangs his head.
I stand up. “I guess I’d better arrange a meeting with Ashley Winters and – how did Grandpa put it again? Ah yes – use my natural charm on her.”
Then I leave the room before anyone has the chance to try and argue with me, or talk me out of my decision. Not that anyone could.
2
Finn
I’ve seen some pictures of Ashley when she was younger. Long, chestnut brown hair, glasses, bad skin, and chubby cheeks. I also had a private investigator do a bit of digging into who she is. He found out she’d turned her back on the corporate world and dedicates herself to running a charity that helps get homeless kids off the streets, but I can’t believe she works here.
To say the area is run down would be an understatement. I hardly dare to leave the car. Partly, because I’m expecting to be mugged the second I get out, and partly because I suspect my car will be gone when I get back outside.
Ok, so I’m exaggerating a little bit, but this place has bad vibes written all over it.
I was expecting… I don’t know… something that at least looked inviting. The place is anything but inviting. It’s a one story building nestled between a grubby looking greasy spoon and a boarded-up newsagent. It hardly screams ‘I know how to make money work for the people I’m trying to help.’
I check the address on the text Andrew sent me one more time, sure I must have the wrong place, despite the faded sign hanging over the entranceway telling me I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. The address checks out, as I knew it would. I sigh to myself and get out of the car. As the car locks engage and the red alarm light flicks on, I look around me warily. I’m trying my best not to be judgmental, but it’s hard when my car is probably worth more than some of the buildings around here.
Maybe my grandpa wanted me to marry this girl because he felt sorry for her, stuck working in a shithole like this. God, couldn’t he have just left her some money? She could certainly use the money, and my chances of reaching an agreement with her were getting better with every passing minute.