Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
He leaned back. And this is sad, but malice flickered in his eyes as well as jealousy. Why was he jealous of me, his own son? My thoughts whirled.
Henry continued, voice smug.
“In case I’m not being clear, listen to this and listen well. You’ll NEVER be CEO of Lincoln Conglomerate as long as I draw breath.”
What the hell?
Where was this coming from?
I’ve slaved long and hard for the company, working my fingers to the bone. I’ve done nothing in forty-five years but give my life to this company, and now he was throwing my dreams on the floor, trashing them like they were worth shit?
But it was true.
My dad’s eyes were like glaciers, cold and dead. Who the fuck was this guy and where was this coming from?
He continued then.
“The clause about you getting married before becoming CEO was a lie,” he rumbled casually. “I pulled it out of my ass because I figured you’d never do it, what with the sluts you hung out with. But now that you’re getting your shit together, I’m pulling that offer completely off the table.”
I rose to my feet at that last slap in the face. My hip bumped the table, tipping the whiskey so that it spilled across the pristine tablecloth. But Henry didn’t so much as flinch.
I was furious. Anger roared through me like wildfire.
“This is the shit you do to your only fucking son?” I shouted, ignoring the looks of other guests. “The one who made the company stock go through the roof after years of shitty profits?”
“You didn’t do anything I couldn’t do myself,” my dad said coldly.
He was fucking deluded. Henry was an old school guy, one out of touch with the modern world. He had all the latest gadgets but that meant nothing. The man knew jack shit about digital advertising, millennials, and the green revolution.
So I snorted, getting a hold of myself.
“Well good luck with that,” I said frigidly. “Consider this my resignation.”
With that, I strode out of the restaurant, mind swirling. What the fuck was wrong with my father? Why had he pulled this one eighty? Had he lost his mind?
If Henry had been honest from the beginning and told me he never wanted to leave the helm of Lincoln Conglomerate, it would have been cool. The company was his baby, and sometimes you can’t bear to let the baby go.
But my life would have been different for sure. I wouldn’t have worked sixty or seventy hour weeks. Instead, I would have put in my nine to five, and then developed something of my own on the side.
Because sure, I was hungry to make money. But I was even hungrier to be my own boss and to face new and unknown challenges. Years of putting my nose to the grindstone had sucked valuable time away that could have been used in a different direction. That made my dad’s betrayal burn even worse.
Stalking out of the restaurant, I picked up my phone and got Trevor on the line.
“Meet me at the front of the restaurant. Dinner’s done.”
“Yes, Mr. Lincoln,” came my driver’s clipped voice.
And sure enough, Trevor was waiting for me at the curb. And when he opened the car door, I climbed in, muscles clenched with fury.
All my plans, destroyed.
The work I’d put in over the years. For nothing.
And Maggie. I’d dragged a beautiful girl into this mess.
But no. That’s not true. She was the best thing about this fucked-up situation. If not for Henry, then I wouldn’t have her in my life. And one thing was crystal clear, even in the middle of this shitty situation. I wanted Maggie with me, no matter what. I wanted her, period.
11
Maggie
I knew exactly how many days it’s been.
Twenty six days.
Twenty six days since Evan walked into DoggyMart.
Twenty five days since I started to fall for him.
Twenty four days since he took my virginity and turned me into a woman. His woman.
I swallowed the thick lump of nervousness in my throat and gripped the knife in my hand.
With the time ticking like a time bomb, I figured I might as well make pumpkin pie. Because this wasn’t going to last much longer, that was for sure. Any day now, Evan was going to announce that he was now the new CEO, and my services would be no longer needed.
My throat closed, making it hard to breathe.
The air wheezed in my nostrils, lungs tight.
But no, the show must go on. So I was making pumpkin pie.
The kitchen was a mess of orange guts, soft vegetable flesh, sugar, flour, and pie tins. I needed everything on the tabletop, but was too much of a wreck to put it together right.
Because Evan was out there somewhere. Was he on his way to see me? Was he already the CEO of the company?