Page 80 of Love Marks
I rub my hand on my forehead, leaning back in my chair. How does she already know? “Nothing. But I’m a very busy man. Running the family company and all,” I say, like I haven’t been completely AWOL from work since I tasted Quinn.
“Yes, yes. You’re very important.” She clicks her tongue. “I’m only calling to let you know that we’re driving up to see your father next Saturday.”
My stomach bottoms out.
“What?” I force the harsh word out.
Memories from the last time I saw my father, the last time I spoke to him, assault my mind. That dreadful day when I’d gotten Quinn fired from The Phoenix. When my father checked himself out of rehab and showed up at my office as if nothing had changed — as if he hadn’t nearly lost everything. I can still picture him standing in front of me, running his hand through his graying hair and scowling at me.
“You really think you can run this company?” My dad looks around at what used to be his office with a sneer. “Hardly a week on the job and you’ve already fucked up.”
I force my face into a neutral mask, trying not to show how his latest insult lands. “Yeah, this was a mistake. I admit it. But we wouldn’t be in this position at all if you hadn’t shown up to a board meeting completely wasted.”
“I’m sick.” He always does this. I know that it’s not his fault that he has a disease, but so does he, and he weaponizes it every chance he gets. He turns his scowl into a well-rehearsed pout. “I’m getting the help I need and then I’ll be back on my feet.”
“I don’t think so.” I turn towards the window, looking out at the skyline.
“What the hell does that mean? You think you can run my company better than I can?” Dad sneers from behind me.
I turn back to face him. “It’s not your company anymore, dad. I’m the one who negotiated this merger. It’s Hyatt Marks Properties and I’m the CEO. You should focus on getting the help you need and being a good husband to mom.”
I’m being harsh. I know how much the company means to my father — it’s everything to him. The truth is that he always cared more about business than family and now he’s losing both. I can see the twisted fury on his face as he calculates his next move. He took it too far when he showed up drunk at work, when he showed up at mom’s birthday party sporting a black eye, completely drunk.
His mask of anger gives way to harsh amusement as he sits down and props his feet on my desk. He cocks his head to the side. “Finally grow some balls on you?” He chuckles darkly. “I remember when you pissed the bed, when you ran crying about monsters in the closet. You always were a weak little boy. Pathetic. Always crying about something. Like a little wounded deer.”
I clamp my mouth shut, not saying anything. I know he’s just getting started.
“I thought if I taught you the business, if I took you under my wing and showed you, that one day you would takeover. Silly me,” he smirks. “Should’ve seen my own son waiting to stab me in the back and take me down. Turns out the baby deer is a shark.”
I cross over to the desk, sitting across from him. “It’s not like that—”
He cuts me off. “You got lucky, didn’t you, boy? If I weren’t a goddamn drunk, you’d have to wait another 15 years for your big-boy-suit and big-boy-office.”
He puts his palms on the desk, leaning towards me. “Go ahead and ship me upstate, son.” He sneers the word like it’s disgusting. “I’ll be watching your inevitable downfall from afar.”
I inhale, trying to calm my racing heart. “Is that all?” I feign indifference as I glance towards my computer. “I have things to do.”
His eyes flash with anger and he stands abruptly. “Sure, that’s all.”
I can’t stop myself. “What about mom? Did you talk to her? Because she was pretty upset this morning when I spoke to her.”
My father turns and his cold eyes meet mine. “Don’t you worry about her. Or Bennie. They’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.” He turns his eyes towards the window, the city outside.
“Worry about this shitty deal you’ve gotten yourself into. Worry about your inevitable failure. You worry about that, son.”
Before I can say anything else, he turns on his heel and sweeps out of the room, leaving me alone in his office. My office.
I smooth my shirt out, my hands shaking. He’s good, my father. Very good. He accomplished his mission simply and effectively. I glance around the office I used to love, remembering how I’d beg my dad to let me come to work with him. How I admired him, wanted to be like him, despite his constant belittling, his never-ending jabs at me. Looking around at it, I feel nothing.
Nothing at all.
“Wesley! Are you even listening to me?” My mother’s voice interrupts the assault of memories flashing through my mind.
I press the phone against my ear. “Sorry, what did you say?”
My mom huffs, annoyed at repeating herself, I’m sure. “I said the car is booked and Ben and I will be in the lobby of my building in the morning. We’ll see you then.”
To go visit dad. Right.