Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Dad acts like I didn’t say a word, as per usual. “We have a prospective investment under consideration. It’s a hotel of sorts with an in-house water park that runs both indoors and outside. The park portion is in utter disrepair, which is why we can get it for a steal, and it will need a total renovation. I thought you might benefit from a large-scale job like this. It could make your company’s entire year.”
Dad knows I own a custom pool design and installation company. He makes it a habit to know what all of us kids are up to, one way or another. Not because he cares, but because he doesn’t want anything we might do to reflect poorly back on him and his reputation. And at one point, I might’ve considered something like what he’s suggesting. Hell, if it were an opportunity coming from someone other than him, I might still consider it. But it is Dad, and he’s acting like I’m starved for business while he holds this out like a filet mignon on a silver platter.
“No thanks.” I set the empty tumbler on his desk, specifically placing it next to the leather coasters he uses to protect the wood’s finish, and stand up. “If that’s everything, I’ll be going.”
“Kyle,” he scolds, “this could be a significant win for both you and Blue Lake. Don’t be rash and shoot yourself in the foot solely because it’s me bringing it to the table.”
Blue Lake Assets is Dad’s company. Before it was his, it was Grandpa Chuck’s, and after Dad finally retires the way he keeps saying he’s going to, it’ll be Cameron’s because he’s worked at Dad’s side for years and has earned it with blood, sweat, and tears. Maybe Kayla’s too because, though she keeps out of Dad’s target range, she bleeds Blue Lake too, like a good Harrington.
I freeze, pinning Dad with blue eyes that are markedly different from his, Mom’s, and all my siblings. Theirs is more like a summer sky, pure and brightly beautiful, while mine are faded, dirt-cheap denim. “No thanks. I’ve got jobs lined up for the rest of the year and a waiting list of people to get on my schedule when I open it for next year. I don’t need a pity contract, don’t need your help, and don’t want anything to do with you or Blue Lake after working my ass off to build my own reputation without the weight of the Harrington name dragging me down.”
“What’s wrong with the Harrington name? Our family is responsible for generations of growth, investments, and capital all across the globe,” Dad sputters, the vein in his temple starting to pulse.
“Exactly,” I say slowly, like Dad’s finally getting it. “And that takes priority over everything else, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t want a bothersome thing like a family or kids to get in the way of making your mark on the world, now would you? Don’t worry, Dad, if nothing else, I learned that from you. Work over everything, even family, which is why I’m putting my business over helping out with your ‘little investment’.”
Because I get it now. His ploy of sitting beside me, offering me fancy whisky, and framing this contract as a favor for me? Yeah, it’s all because he needs me more than I need him for this water park deal. Probably expecting some family discount or wanting oversight that a company without a family tie wouldn’t allow.
I stride from the room, ignoring Dad calling my name as I head toward the door, but as I pass by Mom’s conservatory, I hear her voice inside and pause.
Conservatory is a fancy way of saying Mom’s private office, where she spends time coordinating the family’s philanthropy, reading, and occasionally dabbling in acrylic painting after going on a girls’ outing with Luna to a bring-your-own-wine paint studio. Mom’s actually pretty good with a brush, and though no one’s going to hang her work in a museum, she has fun with it and that’s what matters.
I’m about to go inside to tell her what Dad’s up to when I realize she’s talking about me.
“Yes, Kyle came by to talk to Charles. He’s doing really well, despite always poking the bear with his father.” Mom laughs like mine and Dad’s antics are adorably cute, not painfully bitter, and then she’s quiet for a minute.
She’s on the phone, and I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but still, I listen.
I shouldn’t. I know it’s rude, and is a sure-fire way to hear things you wish you hadn’t, but a peek behind the curtain of what Mom actually thinks is too tempting to resist.
As much as I hate Dad, I love Mom. She’s been the tempering force between me and Dad my whole life, somehow straddling a line where we both feel like she’s on our side. She would never let Dad go too far in punishing me, even when I deserved it, but she would also talk to me, getting me to see his side of things sometimes. And she was my foundation point in the family, the one who took me here, there, and everywhere with my siblings, especially when they got older and started leaving home on their own. Mom made sure they came back for dinners, for visits, and would take me to see them. She’s not perfect, but she’s stood by me through some dark and ugly shit, and I love her for that and so much more.