“What are you saying?”How was it possible for him to sit there staring at me like I had lapsed into Greek?
That did it.That broke me.I threw my hands into the air, shouting, “You don’t know the kind of man he is!We don’t know the first thing about him.He could be some sadist, some sick, twisted freak.You would sell your daughter in marriage to a man you don’t know?”The more I thought about it, the more absurd the whole thing was.And insulting.
“Do you believe that?You think I don’t have an entire dossier on this man?”Again, he opened the desk drawer, but this time, the file he pulled out was at least four times as thick as the one holding his so-called agreement.“There you go.I’ve had the team researching him for months.”
Months.It had been months since he’d started working on this.My stomach turned even as my fingers itched to snatch the folder up and pour over its contents.Instead, I managed to settle for opening the cover as if I couldn’t care less what was inside.
“What you see is what you get,” he explained as I looked over a handful of photos.Clayton standing in front of a few of his businesses—hotels and restaurants in the Los Angeles area.There was one of him beside a surfboard, staring out over the Pacific with the Santa Monica Pier in the background.It looked like a candid shot, and I had to wonder how Papa got a hold of it.But then I knew better than to question his reach and abilities.He might have played the part of a charming, warm, old-fashioned guy, which he was for the most part.He also had a streak of pure steel running through him.He was much shrewder than he let on.Never let them see you coming.His motto.He wanted to be underestimated by his competitors.All the easier to turn around and snatch business away from them if they never considered him a true competitor to begin with.
“Father ran off when he was in diapers,” Papa explained while I paged through the documents his team had compiled.“Straight-A student, went to UCLA on a full academic scholarship.Could have gone for an athletic scholarship too.He was a damn good football player in high school, but an ACL tear screwed up his chances.Somehow, he maintained a 4.0 GPA even while playing, which tells me hard work is in his blood.You can’t teach a person to be that disciplined and driven.It has to be born in them.”
“All right, he’s disciplined and driven.So am I,” I reminded him, turning the page.
“Si, which makes you a good match.”Dammit.I walked into that one.“In fact, he’s disciplined enough and intelligent enough to know better than to jump at my offer right away.I like that.”
Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse.My heart sank even further before I looked up from the file.“Wait a second.You mean if he had jumped at the opportunity, you would have turned him down?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Motherfucker.I swallowed hard to clear my throat of the bile that rose in it.If only, if only.Then again, Papa wouldn’t have thrown his hands into the air and given up.He would’ve found somebody else.I would’ve been granted a brief reprieve, is all.
“He interned with a hospitality group in college,” Papa continued.“He spent summers and breaks working at different locations.Learned everything he could about the business.Invested his earnings.Parlayed that into purchasing his first handful of motels and restaurants in LA.Within less than ten years, he’s built himself into the man you met today.”
“To be fair, we didn’t exactly meet,” I reminded him.
Either he didn’t hear or didn’t feel like listening.“No history of complaints against him.No arbitration with dissatisfied employees or disgruntled guests.The man is clean, honest, driven.Self-made.”
“Like you,” I concluded, closing the folder and pushing it toward him.“I get the picture.”
“Now you understand?”It was clear from his faint smile and the indulgent lilt in his voice that he expected me to fall in line the way I had done so many times.I had made it too easy for too long.No wonder he thought he had this level of control over me.
Slowly, I stood.“It ever occur to you I might take your place?Without bringing in a third party, some stranger?”
“Mira—”
“No!”His head snapped back, and right away, I felt guilty.There I was, twenty-eight years old, and my father still had the power to make me feel like a guilty child in trouble for raising her voice.“No,” I repeated, quieter this time.“All these years.All this time.I have lived at the hotels.I have worked alongside the people there.I know them inside and out.Employee names, the names of their kids, everything.I have put time and effort and love into this, but none of that matters because I was born a girl and not the son you wanted.”
The worst part?How he didn’t bother correcting me.“Why do you think I made sure to include you being kept on after the wedding?”he asked.
“That’s not the same, and you know it!I’m talking to a wall.”I threw my hands in the air and turned away.If I continued this for even another minute, I might completely lose it.The last thing I needed was to be accused of being overly emotional yet again.
He doesn’t mean it.The old refrain echoed through my skull as I stomped down the hall toward my office.My fists swung at my sides, and if I ground my teeth much harder, they might crack.
All my life, I had made excuses for him for his old-fashioned attitude.I told myself he wasn’t hurting anybody, that old habits were hard to break—every explanation in the book.Maybe if I had pushed back sooner, I wouldn’t now be searching for a way out of this.
Who was I kidding?I had never considered myself naïve.There was no room for naïveté in my life.I knew what I wanted, and it meant being clear-headed and free from childish fantasies.There was no room for that in business.
My assistant shot me a curious look when she watched me pass, but I didn’t have it in me to explain what had happened.I didn’t know if I could find the words to paint a picture any less laughable and archaic than reality.Sold in marriage like we were back in The Old Country centuries ago.The man could hold meetings with investors halfway around the world from the comfort of his home laptop, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around how the world had changed.
Everything sat on my desk the way I’d left it before walking down the hall—financials from a handful of our properties, feedback from guests, a few issues I wanted to address with managers by the end of the business day.
Whatever it takes.The words were engraved on a small brass plate which I kept on the corner of my desk, facing me as a constant reminder to go above and beyond.
I didn’t normally need a reminder, but there were times when I had to grind my teeth and push through.This was one of them as I sank into my swivel chair and touched my head to the leather behind it.Somehow, I’d aged twenty years in the past half hour.Sudden shock could do that.
I had left my cell on the desk specifically for our meeting.Papa preferred it that way.There was only one thing more important than me being constantly accessible to everyone in the company, and that was the attention I gave him when we were together.As far as he was concerned, the phone could be an extension of my arm twenty-three hours a day so long as I pretended it didn’t exist during the single hour we had set aside to catch up.
The only thing waiting for me was a handful of texts.My stomach flipped when I saw who they’d come from.Matteo Lamberti and I had been on one date after chatting via text for a few weeks.Normally, I’d see his name pop up on my screen and would smile to myself.There was nothing serious going on—we hadn’t even slept together yet—but for the first time in at least two years, I’d met somebody I wanted to know better.
