My father frowned. “Like what?”
“Like why you had dinner with Charles Whitaker.” Neal’s eyes flashed. Charles Whitaker was the CEO of Whitaker Farms, Singh Foods’ biggest competitor. “I had to hear about it from Greenley, of all people. You should’ve seen how delighted he was when he realized I didn’t know. Why thefuckwould you accept Whitaker’s invite, and why did you keep the meeting a secret from me?”
The others’ conversations ground to a halt. Maya sucked in an audible breath while her sisters’ eyes widened to cartoonish proportions.
Neal rarely cursed. He considered profanity a failure of discipline, so his outburst spoke volumes about how deeply my father’s actions upset him.
My father bristled. He was the type to double down instead of show remorse, and his response was clipped. “It was one dinner. We had a casual chat. I didn’tkeepit a secret from you because it wasn’t worth mentioning.”
“Come on, Michel. You’ve been in business long enough to know exactly how that meeting was going to play out.” Neal scoffed. “It wasn’t about the conversation. It was about the optics. You think it’s a coincidence that Whitaker asked to meetthe same day I was out of town? We’re two months out from a major product drop, one that will overshadow his own, and he’s trying to stir up doubt. There are already whispers about why you’re meeting with my biggest competitor this close to launch. Rumors that you’re unhappy with our partnership and that you might jump ship to Whitaker Farms for your next collaboration. That’s what he wanted, and you played right into his hand. How can you not see that?”
“That’s ridiculous,” my father said. “Maybe Whitaker had ulterior motives, but if I’d said no, he would’ve found another way to get to me. People whisper all the time. If I made business decisions based onpotentialrumors, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I told you, it was one fucking dinner, and I don’t need your permission to say yes toanyinvitations. Not everything revolves around you and your company.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about it?” Neal gestured at the table. “I didn’t say anything during dinner because I was waiting for you to bring it up. You didn’t. People only hide things when they feel guilty.”
I shifted in my seat, my stomach tight.
“Stop it,” Michel snapped. “Itoldyou, it wasn’t important enough for me to mention. Now, can we enjoy our dessert in peace, or do we have to continue indulging your paranoia?”
“It’s not paranoia,” Neal snapped back. “He’s using you, and you can’t even see it!”
“Are you calling me naïve?” My father’s voice was incredulous.
“No, I’m calling you a traitor. This is not what friends do, Michel. Remember when I canceled my company’s contract with the Belmonts? It would’ve made us millions, but I backed out because they fucked you over.Thatis what friends do. I had your back, but it’s clear you don’t have mine.”
“Oh, fuck off!” My father exploded. “You’ve been holdingthat over my head for a decade, and I’m sick of it. If you think I’d stoop that low—if you think it’s okay to call me atraitorbecause of a stupid meal—then you should just leave. I will not have anyone insulting my character in my own house, much less someone who calls himself a friend.”
The ensuing silence was so thick, so barbed with anger, that I couldn’t breathe without it stinging my lungs.
Maya and I exchanged stricken glances. Her mother sat frozen, her face pale, while mine guzzled the rest of her wine like her life depended on it. My mother didn’t deal well with confrontation, and none of us hadeverseen my father and Neal fight.
They’d been close friends for decades. They’d been each other’s best men at their respective weddings, and our families vacationed together every year. Seeing them clash like this was almost sacrilegious.
A dinner might seem like a foolish thing for them to fight over, but Neal was incredibly sensitive about Whitaker Farms’ increasing share of the market. Singh Foods had dominated the frozen foods world for decades, and he wasn’t dealing well with the prospect of being dethroned.
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t call us friends anymore,” Neal said, his voice cold. He threw his napkin down and shoved his chair back. “Shilpa, girls, let’s go. We’re leaving.”
“Neal—”
“Dad—”
Maya and her mother both spoke up, but he shut them down with a steely glare.
The rest of the Singhs quietly stood and followed Neal toward the exit. Shilpa murmured a soft “thank you for dinner” to my mother, who appeared dazed by the abrupt turn of events.
“In case it wasn’t clear, there will be no more communication between our families outside work,” Neal said. His mustache bristled with barely contained fury. “Whatever personal relationship we had ends here.”
“Fine,” my father replied, his tone equally cool. If it weren’t for the flush staining his cheeks, I wouldn’t have guessed their falling out affected him at all. “Then so be it.”
Neal’s nostrils flared. The Singhs left, but not before Maya sent a panicked glance my way. I tried to look reassuring; I was sure I failed.
So much for telling our families we were dating. We’d be lucky if our fathers ever spoke to each other again.
Then she was gone, and silence reigned once more.
My father tossed his own napkin on the table and stormed out without a word. My mother motioned for another glass of wine, and I stared at Maya’s empty chair, my insides churning.
What thefuckjust happened?
