Page 5 of The Temporary Bride

I have a spectacular view of Los Angeles, straight past the skyscrapers and to Mount San Antonio—or Mount Baldy, as the locals prefer to call it. The peak towers above the city, snow-capped despite the warming spring weather.

For the past year or so, my father has seemed less than interested in growing the business. I don’t know why, but it’s concerning.

It almost feels like he doesn’t think he should have to keep pushing. Like he thinks he’s made it to the top, and he deserves to rest there, unchallenged.

Unfortunately, that’s not the way business works. He doesn’t get to stop striving if he wants to stay on top.

I stand up from my desk, stretching, and turn away from the skyline and the mountain. I tuck my laptop under my arm and head out into the hallway.

Maybe if I shove the numbers in front of his face, my father will finally be willing to hear me out.

After all, I’m the head of strategic development. It’s an unspoken understanding among my brothers that once my father retires, he’ll tap me to take over as CEO. I don’t want to inherit a train wreck.

My father’s office is on the building’s top floor, a corner office like my own, but much, much larger. The gleaming oak doors open, granting me entry into his domain, a room where every detail speaks to triumph.

In the corner nearest the door is a private enclave—a round coffee table, two leather chairs, and shelves lining the walls. The shelves are stacked with books on leadership and business that haven’t been cracked open in years, although they’re still dusted daily.

Typically, I’d find my father sitting behind his polished desk, flanked by the city. Today though, he’s in one of the armchairs off to one side, his feet up on an ottoman.

He’s looking out the window, his face turned away from me. The gray at his temples is visible. Despite his age, my father has a full head of once-dark hair. I’m told that we look alike, although the constant comparison frustrates me.

I clear my throat. “Do you have a minute?”

He glances over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. “Tristan. What can I do for you?”

“We need to talk about revenue. Are you busy?”

He twists in his chair, shaking his head as he turns to me. “No. Not at the moment, although I have a meeting with shareholders in Malibu at one. Come in. Sit down.”

He gestures to the armchair beside his. I sit down, the plush leather creaking.

“What is it?” he asks. “You look stressed.”

He doesn’t look stressed, which frustrates me. I take a deep breath, then launch into my explanation of our slipping profits. He listens, stone-faced, as I open my laptop and show him the spreadsheet I’ve spent the morning analyzing.

When I’m done, he sits in silence for a long moment. Then he says, “The market is a fluid thing, son. It won’t take long for this to turn around.”

“Turn around?” I stare at him. “We’re looking at a true slump. This isn’t the normal give and take, Dad. This is…” I trail off, unsure how he doesn’t see it.

“What’s your point?” He leans back in his chair. “Why did you come to me about it?”

“Because you’re the CEO.” I frown at him. “If we’re going to do something about this, it’ll be your call.”

“And what do you expect me to do?”

“We can make some adjustments. We can push harder in our entertainment sector, and⁠—”

Before I can finish my thought, he’s already waving a dismissive hand. I grit my teeth, biting back my annoyance.

“I have plans, Tristan,” he tells me, as if I’m an agitated child. “You don’t need to worry about this. A long-term vision takes patience, not sudden movements.”

“This wouldn’t be sudden. It would be proactive.”

“You need to be smart. Strategic.” It’s as if he didn’t hear me speak at all. He gives me an arch look. “This company will need you to be strategic in the future.”

My jaw tightens involuntarily. His constant references to that nebulous future—to my impending role as CEO, to the path he has laid out for me—never fail to frustrate me, and yet, it carries all of its desired implications.

He knows this company, this world, better than I do. If I want to follow in his footsteps, I need to learn how he walks.