Page 14 of Faking With You

CHAPTER 11

Mac

Iwork late every night Monday through Wednesday in preparation for my father’s arrival on Thursday. Nothing can be forgotten or a miss for his visit. He’s like a bloodhound and can sniff that kind of thing out, and the blame will automatically fall on me, no matter what it is. I’m just fortunate that he gave me a heads-up before this visit. I know the only reason I got one was because he wanted to know if I was doing as he told me to and finding a serious relationship.

I was hoping to have more time with Eliza before he did one of these visits so I could hopefully solidify some sort of relationship with her before feeding her to the wolves. The second I mentioned dinner, though, she started to shut down and zoned out. She didn’t notice when I said her name the first time. It wasn’t until I took her hand that she finally came back. I’m unsure of how dinner will go. I just hope that my father doesn’t say or do anything that has Liz pulling out of our deal.

I walk into the office at seven before most people are in the office, wanting to finish a few things before my father arrives.But I’ve been at my desk for only thirty minutes before my father walks into my office, not even bothering to knock.

“Father,” I say as I stand, holding my hand out for him to shake. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

“Mackenzie. I wanted to jump right in.”

“Did you get settled in your hotel?”

“No, I’ll head there later. Why don’t you update me on the progress of the Blackwood project?”

I’m not surprised my father wants to jump straight into business. It’s his default. His business is his baby and his number one priority.

We sit in my office for nearly five hours going over files before my assistant interrupts us to remind me of a meeting. My father tells me to go and that he’ll keep reviewing files while I’m gone. I nod, buttoning my suit jacket as I make my way out of my office.

I take a deep breath the second my feet hit the pavement outside the office. My father is the reason I work the way I do. He doesn’t understand moderation or breaks, and it quickly became a philosophy I adopted as a way to fit the image and mold my father wanted me to.

I’m pleasantly surprised when my phone buzzes with a text from Eliza.

Eliza

Did your father arrive?

Mac

Yes. He came straight to the office.

Eliza

Workaholic?

That pulls a chuckle from me. I have a feeling Eliza will be able to peg my father the second she meets him.

Mac

Of course.

Eliza

You think he’ll manage to leave the office for dinner tomorrow?

Mac

An opportunity to ensure I’m doing what I’m told will never go missed.

She thumbs-ups the message, and I know she’s anxious about tomorrow even though she may not say it. I stare at our conversation, unsure of what else to say but wanting to continue talking to her. When I arrive outside of the building where my meeting is, I shove my phone in my pocket while thinking of an excuse to talk to her later.

Eliza smooths her already pristine skirt the entire ride to the restaurant. I reach over and stop her movements, giving her hand a squeeze, and her eyes immediately find the side of my face. I glance at her quickly, offering her a reassuring smile and say, “It’s going to be fine. I’m the one he’s worried about.”

“Meeting aboyfriend’s”—she puts boyfriend in finger quotes—“parent is a big deal. Your father is expecting us to be in the start of a serious relationship. One that’s at least serious enough for him to give you the position of CEO. There’s a lot of pressure on tonight.”

“Eliza, he knows we only just started dating, don’t worry, there won’t be any big questions about the future tonight. We’vegot a least a month before those come,” I try to jest, and her head whips to me. Maybe right now isn’t the time for jokes with Eliza.