“Blah, blah, blah. Are we going to sit around talking about babies, or are we going to play basketball?” Mason yells from center court. “If I’m not back before the lunch rush, Brooke said she’s going to drop my nuts in the deep fryer.”
“I thought it was your bar?” Eric runs up to join him. “You’re going to let your bartender tell you what to do?”
“When she can run circles around me and the rest of the staff? Yeah, I’ll let her tell me what to do any day of the week.”
“Don’t limit yourself to daytime.” Eric steals the ball from Mason and dribbles down the hoop. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. I bet you’d let her tell you what to do any night, too.” He takes a shot and sinks the ball into the hoop before turning and waggling his eyebrows.
“Shut up, Eric. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Just as the guys begin the game, and their trash-talking, in earnest, my phone rings.
“Ah fuck,” I mutter at the sight of my father’s name coming up on the screen. I haven’t heard from him since the day I found him snooping around my office and I was hoping without really believing that was the end of the matter. I had my lawyer look over all the paperwork from when I took over the company and she could find nothing that would allow my father to take over again unless I specifically invited him to come back. I’m still worried about what he has planned, though. My father is never one to let a little thing like a contract get in the way of his ambitions. He’s just an asshole like that.
“Archer Fade here.” I answer the phone like I don’t know who’s calling. It’s always best to throw my father off as soon as possible in a conversation. Letting him think I don’t have him saved in my phone, or even recognize his number, is enough to irritate him at least a little.
“Archer? Where are you? I’m at the factory and it’s all locked up and the parking lot is empty. Is this any way to run a business?”
“Dad? Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me. Who else would it be? Now answer the question. Why is my factory closed today?”
I chuckle, making Lincoln giggle when he bounces. “Don’t you mean my factory? At least, I think that’s what the paperwork says, anyway.”
My father doesn’t respond for a moment, and I know he’s thinking over what I’ve said. If I can make him think I don’t have my paperwork anymore, he might slip and tell me what his plan is. That snippet of conversation I overheard when he was snooping around my office makes me curious. It’s like he thinks he’s can force me to marry Annabelle by threatening to take over the company. It’s impossible, but I’d like to know what the hell he thinks he can do.
“I think if you have a look at the paperwork again, you’ll see that it tells a very different story. I’ll have my lawyer send you a copy.”
Hmm. That’s suspicious. Why would his lawyer need to send a copy when he knows I have my own? Something isn’t adding up.
“Sure. I look forward to reading what I already know: the factory is mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Now, now, Archer. There’s no need to be like that.” I want to punch the smugness out of my father’s voice. “You know how to keep everything going as it is. Marry Annabelle and all of this goes away.”
“Jesus, Dad.” Lincoln cries out in protest at the anger in my voice and the guys all stop their game, turning to face me. “Shit. I have to go. The baby is crying, and it’s time for his nap. Email the contract and I’ll look it over.”
I don’t wait for his response before stabbing my finger at the end call button and shoving my phone into my pocket.
“Shh, shh,” I whisper as I kiss the top of Lincoln’s head, rocking side to side like I’ve seen Phoebe do when he’s upset. “It’s okay, buddy. Everything’s alright. Daddy’s not upset with you. Shh, shh.”
Eric walks over and grabs a drink from his bag. “Everything good?”
I shake my head. “Not sure. My father is sending over a copy of the paperwork from when I took over the factory that he seems to think shows how he’s going to be able to take it back from me. I’ve read over my copy and there’s nothing in there that I can see. But he’s still saying I need to marry Annabelle if I want to keep the company.”
“No. Absolutely not. That’s not good for either of you.” Eric paces. “You have a copy?”
I nod. “Yeah. I have one in the safe in my home office and my lawyer still has one on file. I don’t know why my dad still thinks he needs to email me a copy.”
Eric looks off into the distance. “That seems odd. Let me ask my mother and see what I can find out. If my mom is good for one thing, it’s knowing everyone else’s business.”
I chuckle. “My mother is the same way, but I doubt it would be wise to ask her about this.”
“You’re probably right.” He digs his phone out of his bag. “I’ll message my mom now. Want me to come up to your place when I find out more?”
I nod, looking down at Lincoln. He’s rubbing his ears in his trademark “I’m tired” maneuver. “Yeah. I better get this guy down for his nap before I throw him completely off schedule. Phoebe would never forgive me if he didn’t sleep tonight.”
I give the other guys a wave and take Lincoln to the elevator and up to my apartment. That’s one great thing about playing basketball at the gym in my building. I’m always less than three minutes from a hot shower, and now, a crib for Lincoln to nap in.
After getting Lincoln settled into his crib, I take the handheld for the monitor and go straight to the safe in my office. I need to see what my copy of the contract says, then compare it to the one I’m sure is already sitting in my inbox.
