The whole thing was unsettling for a variety of reasons, the least of which involved memories of my mother and father’s relationship before she’d finally divorced him and moved out.
She had been a lot like Maddy. She had morals and principles, and she never backed down when someone like my father challenged them. He always regarded her with a condescending kind of amusement, as though someone like her couldn’t possibly understand the nuances of running a multi-billion dollar business. I realized with no small sense of shame that I had been treating Maddy similarly, and as I turned to walk into my father’s office, I wondered if it was worth it.
My father had hardly ever bestowed a kind word on me before. Even when I was doing his bidding. But the way he’d looked at me over dinner this evening, I could tell that he was proud in some sick and twisted way. He wanted me to be cutthroat, and knocking down a building was just one in a long line of tasks he’d forced on me that ate away at my moral pillars.
And the twisted thing was, I wanted this.
It was what I’d always wanted from my father. I could afford all the diamonds and gold in the world, and yet I’d never been able to afford his approval. It was always just out of my price range, so to speak, and I’d spent my whole life coveting it.
Perhaps if my father hadn’t demanded full custody of me, I’d have had my mother there to put things in perspective. But he and his team of lawyers had seen to it that my mother wasn’t granted even the barest of visitation rights. Money could buy a lot of things, including a family court judge.
What changed? I wondered as I slowly pushed open the office door. What kind of game is he playing tonight?
I waited patiently just beyond the threshold of the study. Clearly he’d expected to have a few more minutes before I arrived. My father was on the phone.
“No, of course not,” he was saying, his back to me as he stared out the window at the garden beyond. I realized he probably had no idea I was even there. I was just about to clear my throat when he continued: “Just because I’m going through with the marriage doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
I stood stock still as I let those words sink in. Who the hell was my father talking to? It sure as hell wasn’t Vivian. My stomach churned. Was he cheating on Maddy’s mother?
The answer was obvious, but that didn’t mean I wanted to believe it. Of all the things I’d imagined my father was over the years, a philanderer wasn’t one of them.
But now it all made so much sense. I’d always wondered what made my mother ask for a divorce. Philosophical differences were one thing. My mother was a tolerant person, and to a degree, she could have looked past those. But infidelity—adultery? That was something my mother wouldn’t have been able to ignore.
Very quietly, I sat down on the opposite side of his desk and listened to the remainder of his conversation.
“No, darling. It isn’t like that at all,” he continued. I’d heard that tone before, the one he used when trying to keep irate board members nice and calm. He was working this woman over, and if I knew my father’s powers of persuasion, then she was buying it hook, line, and sinker. “She’s no more special than you are. In fact, I have it on very good authority that mistresses have more fun. You benefit from my attention and my money without being tied down to a family. Isn’t that what a young girl like yourself wants?”
I shook my head. It was pathetic, really. He probably had some twenty-something waiting for him in the wings, hanging on his every word while he reaped the benefits of her youth. I didn’t want my father’s approval anymore. I didn’t want anything to do with a man who would put everyone around him at risk just because he wanted to have his cake and eat it too.
As the conversation devolved further, I’d finally had enough. I cleared my throat loudly and watched my father spin around, his eyes widening.
“Darling, I have to go,” he said and hung up his phone.
I stared him down, waiting to hear him concoct some excuse for his behavior. But all he said to me was, “How much did you hear?”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “Enough to know you’re cheating on Madison’s mother,” I said.
For just a moment, my father looked like he didn’t know what to do. For once in his life, it was like he had no clue what to say or how to talk his way out of it. For a minute there, he resembled something close to human. But then he just snorted and sat down across from me, leaning back in his leather chair as he said:
“Don’t be naïve, Preston. Do you really think Vivian’s marrying me for love?”
I thought back to all the things Madison had told me about her mother. I couldn’t deny my father’s allegation, but that didn’t make him right. I hardly knew what the two of them did in private together, but I was betting that whatever it was, Vivian had come to have a reasonable expectation of fidelity from the man she was about to marry.
As always, my father thought that money excused everything. I shook my head in disgust.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked him. And then, “I don’t just mean this one, either. Was this what made Mom leave?”
That he chose not to answer. Instead he waved his hand dismissively and muttered something about his private life before getting to the task at hand.
“You might still have a lot to learn about the nature of the world, Preston, but your performance with Harold Verger speaks for itself.”
“Speaking of which, I thought we might talk about the Verger deal…” I began, but my father cut me off, continuing as if I hadn’t said a word.
“You’ve proven that I can rely on you, son, and that’s no small feat. I think you’re ready to start taking on more responsibility for the company. I think you’re ready to move up in the ranks.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what does that mean?”
My father laughed. “It means that my time at Harvey Enterprises is coming to an end. Maybe not this year or even the next—but soon. You are my heir, and it’s time that I treated you like one.”
He paused, as if expecting me to say something in return. When I didn’t, he said, “You’re going to get more involved in the day-to-day operations of Harvey Enterprises, which means more money for you and a bigger office. You’ll come work for me in the Harvey Tower downtown. No more telecommuting from that little hole in the wall.”
That ‘hole in the wall’ was my oasis, my sanctuary. It kept a firm boundary between me and my father, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to demolish it for any amount of money.
“What about Maddy?” I said. “Are you going to hire her, too?”
My father shrugged. “Sure. We can find something for her. Those part-time mail clerk positions have high turnover. No reason I can’t stick her there.”
“What, for eight dollars an hour?” I asked, raising my brows. “She’s making a hell of a lot more than that now, and she deserves it. I know you’ve seen my productivity this month.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve been busy, but with the exception of the Verger deal, I must admit much of what you’ve accomplished hasn’t been to the level of profitability that I expect. Profits are down nearly eight percent, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you went soft right about the time you hired on your sweet little stepsister.”
I tried to keep my cool, avoiding his attempt at putting me on the defensive. “Profits are down, but employee morale is higher than it has been in years. Sure, I’ve made a few hard choices that will negatively effect this quarter, but I did the right thing, and people respect me for it. If you really want me to take over this company some day, I’m going to need the chain of command to know that I’m a man worth respecting.”
My father slammed his hand down on a table, my body instinctively wincing against its impact. “Respect is far easier attained through fear. Do you think I reached my station in life being nice? Did you think I wouldn’t notice that you pushed dozens of part time workers into enough hours that they qualify for benefits? That includes Maddy.
There isn’t a personal assistant on the planet worth the kind of money you’re paying her.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about this. Maddy deserves…” I began, but he cut me off again, his voice raising to an octave I’d only heard when he was truly angry.
“It’s not about what people deserve, son,” my dad said, his body visibly working to keep his rage contained as he pulled a cigar box out of one of his desk drawers. “It’s about giving them just enough to keep them from revolting. I thought I taught you better than that.”