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“Tell me about the press release,” he orders—no greeting, nothing. “Which reporters were contacted to make an appearance?”
I provide him with detailed information on the press release for the upcoming launch. We’re launching a new catalog of products targeted at children, a demographic we’ve never been concerned with before. But a couple months ago, my extremely brilliant nephew pointed out that we could make toys for children that would also have security and health elements. Like a teddy bear with a heart-rate monitor. Or a toy car with a motion sensor. There are several other products like that in the line and it'll be officially released to the public in a week.
I took over the project when I was appointed as vice president and I’ve been working on making sure the launch is successful and goes by without a hitch.
“And you’ve prepared what you’ll say at the press conference?” my father presses.
“Of course. I’ve got my whole speech memorized.”
He makes a small noise of acknowledgment. “And the board?”
“The report on the expected revenue will be presented during the meeting today. I’m sure they’ll be happy with it.”
Another small noise of acknowledgment. My old man’s words always seem to fail him when it’s time to tell me I’m doing a good job. I’m pretty used to it, though.
“This launch has to be successful, Graham. With your brother’s wedding so soon, we’re being scrutinized. Everyone’s watching us like hawks and we can’t allow any weaknesses. The wedding’s sure to bring about some negative press, which is why I insisted the press conference and the launch be next week.”
“I’m aware, Father.”
“Alright. Just make sure you do a good job.”
“I’ll always do,” I state. “Is that all?”
He nods and as I get to my feet, he watches me carefully. He’s been looking at me like that a lot. I can tell he’s waiting for me to screw up, but that’s not going to happen.
“Graham,” he says before I turn. “How are the preparations for your move?”
“Mostly underway. It’s nothing too complicated. I’ll only be spending a couple of months in New York, anyway.”
“Alright. And has Ms. Evans agreed to go with you or will you be hiring a new secretary when you arrive there?”
“Yeah, she agreed,” I reply.
My father informed me a couple of weeks ago that I’d have to move to New York to oversee matters with our branch. It’s a fairly new addition to our company and the lack of appropriate leadership has led to underperformance. Considering New York is our biggest market for the new launch, it makes sense for the vice president to go there to straighten things up.
I was pretty surprised when Taylor agreed to move there with me. But according to her, it wasn’t a hard decision considering her mother lives in the city or something. It doesn’t really matter to me.
“Okay,” my father says, clearly pleased. He’s always liked Taylor for some reason. “You can go. I’ll see you at the board meeting. And I expect to see you at dinner tonight.”
That gives me pause. I open my mouth to make up an excuse as to why I can’t come but my father’s faster.
“You’ll be at the dinner. I don’t care how busy you are. Your mother claims that she hasn’t seen you in weeks.”
“That’s because I’ve had a lot of work.”
“Regardless, you’ll make time tonight. Are we clear, Graham?” he says, voice hard.
“Crystal,” I mutter before finally leaving the office.
As always, talking to my father puts me in a bad mood. I pull at the tie around my neck as I head back to my office. Thankfully, the rest of the day goes by without any further hiccups. It’s tonight I’m dreading. I not only have to see my mother, I have to eat at a table with both my mother and father.
It’s not often that happens. Our family’s almost never complete at the table. Dad’s either busy with work or I make myself scarce when I know he’ll be there. We still won’t be complete considering Xander and Nate are in New York. It’ll just be me, Mikayla, and our parents.
The dinner can go two ways. We could all be on our best behavior and get through the dinner awkwardly but without incident. Or my father does something that sets me off. There’s a reason I avoid being in the same room as my parents at the same time. Seeing them together always manages to piss me off.
The chandelier hanging in the middle of our dining room casts a soft glow as we have our meal. The silverware in my hand feels heavy as I cut into the steak on the plate in front of me. So far, Mikayla and my mother have been carrying the conversation, discussing the only topic that seems to matter to them at the moment: Xander’s wedding.
“What time is your flight to New York this weekend, honey?” my mother questions.
