Page 6 of Julia.
In silence, the chauffeur turns the engine on and the car hits the road. With the ride being just as quiet as the one we took to the Cathedral, I turn my gaze out to the window, trying to avoid the inevitable.
“I didn’t know you were so close to the Van Dieren’s oldest daughter.”
My stomach sinks, knowing all too well this remark would be coming, but I brush it off. “I’m not close to her. We’re just friends.”
Dad barks a laugh, the first in days, but there is no humor behind it. “Friends, eh? Between a man in his thirties and a nineteen year old girl? Seb, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“We get along, Dad. That’s all.”
“Is Margaret okay with you just…‘getting along’ with her daughter?”
I can feel my face getting red. This is the last post-funeral conversation I expected to have. “Come on, Dad, can we just drop it?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He looks back at me now, his expression serious. “That girl is still in college, Sebastian.”
The reminder of our age difference hits me like a ton of bricks, causing my stomach to tighten. “She is, but–”
Dad isn’t in the mood to let me speak, though. “Thenyouhave to be the one to drop it, son. You’re thirty-three for fuck’s sake.”
“She is a friend, Dad. A friend!” My temper rises to meet his and looking him in the eye, I add, “I’ve never done anything inappropriate with Julia, do you understand me?”
Dad shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe any word coming out of my mouth, and his tone is rueful. “Enough excuses. Find yourself a woman who is your age, not a barely legal one.” He pauses, as if thinking about his next words. “You do know what kind of woman her mother is, right? You’re putting us in a very delicate situation here. If Margaret finds out…”
“That’s enough,” I snap, fisting my hands as I try to regain my composure. “Margaret isn’t gonna do anything, because—and I repeat—there’s nothing between us.”
“I’ll say this one more time.” Dad lays a hand on my shoulder, and despite how annoyed I am, I let him. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”
2
Sebastian
The car pulls aroundthe circular driveway of the family estate, but to me, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Just a place for us to exist. No matter how I feel, though, we’ve got to have this meeting, even if it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to do so while still dressed in our suits from the funeral.
Inside, I expect Willem and the other lawyers under contract to the family, but I freeze when I see that the conference room is actually full. To my surprise, the rest of the company board is waiting for us, seated with paperwork and pens in front of them, as if this is any other work event, and not the horribly serious situation that it actually is.
My astonishment quickly turns to anger. How could my father be so insensitive to jump back into business right after burying his wife and children? Talking with the lawyers about inheritance and the state of the business going forward is one thing, but Dad treating this afternoon like just another day at the office pisses me off. I would be angry for him, except something tells me that he’s the one that planned this gathering.
“What the hell is going on here?” I ask, my voice raised in frustration as we make our way in.
“Sebastian, please calm down.” Dad tries to maintain his composure as he hobbles to the seat at the front of the table. “We have an important matter to discuss.”
I take a deep breath and try to compose myself as I pull my chair to his right hand side, where I’ve always sat since I joined the board. “What kind of important matter?”
“The future of the company,” my father replies, gesturing towards the board members.
I glance around the room and see the middle-aged men nodding in agreement. They’re all looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something.
“I don't understand,” I proceed, my confusion mounting. “Why are we talking about the future of the company now? Shouldn’t we be taking some time to grieve and process what's happened?”
Dad lets out a long sigh and looks at me with a mixture of sadness and determination. “I'm afraid we don’t have that luxury.” He pauses for a beat, his face deepening. “My health has gotten worse, and I can no longer handle the stress of running the company.” He sounds rather embarrassed to admit it, which is quite understandable coming from someone who was almost in perfect health before the most traumatic event of our lives happened. “You’ll have the entire board to guide you, but I think now is the right time for me to step down.”
“To step down?” I repeat his words, a frown forming on my forehead. “What does that mean?” I might be looking around the table for an answer, but no one seems to be in a hurry to give me one.
My eyes finally land on Dad again, who after being silent for way too long, blurts out, “I need you to take over…as CEO.”
What?I force myself to keep my composure, but I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. Dad wants me to take on this responsibility at a time like this? I’m about to decline and tell him to appoint someone else, someone more experienced than me, but as I look into his tired, brown eyes, I can see the sincerity behind his words, and if I’m not mistaken, the fear he has that I won’t accept the job. He’s not doing this for himself, but for me and the rest of the company. It hits me like an arrow to the heart to know that my father is worried, even at a time like this, about leaving me a worthless business to take over and not the successful conglomerate that he runs currently.
“I don’t know if I'm ready for this,” I tell him, my voice unsteady. “Not that I don’t think I can do it, but the timing…Dad, we should both take some time off. This is ridiculous.”