“I know that Gerald, but I didn’t think he would go all soft-hearted when I gifted him the company. I thought I’d raised him right. Yes, yes. We should have added the clause when we first wrote the contracts. Okay, I’ll let you know when I find his copy of the paperwork. Goodbye.”
Paperwork? I’m not sure what he thinks he’s looking for, but he’s crazy if he thinks I’ll stand by and let him ruin all I’ve worked for.
“Hey Dad,” I say, going for the element of surprise with the nonchalant lilt in my voice as I pop around the corner into my office. “What are you doing in my office?”
“Shit!” He yells, slamming a drawer on my desk as he jumps. “Where did you come from?” I watch him stand up taller and straighten his tie. He fixes me with a haughty expression that was far more intimidating when I was a kid. And would be a lot more intimidating now if he weren’t trying to sneak out from behind my desk like he hadn’t just been caught doing something underhanded. “Shouldn’t you be working on making us more money?”
“Actually,Dad,”I sneer, knowing he’s going to hate what I have to say next almost as much as I’m going to love saying it to him. “I was wishing the staff a Merry Christmas. We’re closed until the new year.”
“You’re what?” He bellows, his eye twitching. “Why would you be closed? Our orders—the product—” he splutters, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. I can’t say I don’t love seeing him this way.
I walk around my desk and take a seat, leaning forward in my chair. “New orders are on hold until after the holidays. We fulfilled all the retail orders last week, and all the private orders already shipped. The team works hard. They deserve to spend the holidays with their families.”
“I can’t believe you, Archer. You’re going to run this business into the ground.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes. “Profits are up. But I’m sure you already know that.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Let me ask you again. Why are you here?”
He takes a deep breath, unbuttons his jacket, and lowers himself into a seat across from me. “I’m here to make sure you do the right thing. To make sure you do what it takes to keep this company looking respectable in the eyes of your mother’s friends. You will marry Annabelle and make sure she’s taken care of.”
My fists slam down on my desk, and I launch out of my chair. “What aren’t you understanding? Under no circumstances will I be marrying Annabelle.”
My father stands up and buttons his jacket again. “That’s where you’re mistaken, son. If you want to remain at the helm of Fade Toys and continue with this ridiculoushealthy workplace, living wage, woke snowflakebullshit, you’ll marry Annabelle. And you’ll do it soon. Because if you don’t, I will take back control of Fade Toys and these employees you love so much? Well, they can get with my program, or they can be on their way.”
All the bravado rushes from my system in a harsh breath as I watch him walk away, the silence of the building amplifying the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall. When I can’t hear them anymore, I lose it.
“FUCK!” With a sweep of my arms, everything on my desk goes flying before I sink into my chair.
Can he really take the company from me? Is that what he was talking to his lawyer about? How do I fix this? Can it even be fixed? Can they really force me to marry Annabelle?
Because as much as I don’t want to marry her, I know there’s no way I can subject my staff to working for my dad again.
And the first thing I need to do to prevent that is go home and read through that contract again.
And call my lawyer.
Chapter 21
Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
Phoebe
Irereadthetextfor what has to be the hundredth time, my heart pounding in my ears with anticipation.
Archer
Hey. This is Archer. Are you busy today? I was hoping I could come by and visit Lincoln.
The message came in this morning around eleven, right after I put Lincoln down for his morning nap, and I’d hesitated only a moment before answering.
Phoebe
Yes, Archer. I saved your number last time you called. I’m home today.
Come by around one, Lincoln should be up from his nap around then.
It’s shortly after one o’clock, and Lincoln is still fast asleep. I’ve checked myself in the mirror about eighteen times, making sure I at least look better than I did the night of the party, and now I’m waiting for Archer to arrive. What? Just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean I need to look like a bridge troll. Besides, it’s not like I put in alotof effort.
Okay, so maybe I stepped it up a tiny bit from yesterday when I went to see him at work in my usual leggings and hoodie, but not by much. A little more makeup and some light hairstyling. Plus, I’m wearing real pants. Well, jeans. Jeans that I recently bought in a larger size to accommodate all the baby weight that seems to want to stick around on my ass forever, but jeans nonetheless.
