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“I didn’t ask when you talked to the accounting firm. When did you look at the statements yourself?”
I turn the corner, walking as quickly as possible.
“I really have to go,” I try, knowing it’s futile. When my father is finished with me, he’ll let me know, and I won’t be getting off this call three seconds sooner.
“When?”
I grind my back teeth, trying not to say something I’ll regret. “End of June.”
“Two weeks ago?”
If he hadn’t lent Enzo and me eight million dollars last year, I might comment on his superior ability to calculate days of the week. But that qualifies for thesomething I’ll regretlist, or at least thesomething I’ll be made to regretlist, so I hold my tongue. Two more blocks.
“Yes.”
“I spoke with Paul this weekend. He mentioned an increased cost of stabling agents.”
In other words,Since Angel’s accounting firm answers to you, I called your plant manager and talked with him about expenses to circumnavigate the communication chain.
There are so many things I despise about my father. The constant criticism. The fact that he can hardly tolerate me. But most of all, I hate the way he manipulates me. For the thousandth time, I remind myself Angel, Inc. would not be possible without this man who is convinced I am a total fuck up. So instead of asking why he even bothered to lend me start-up money in the first place, I play nice.
“I’ll take a look at them. And will let you know how it goes today.”
There’s my building.
“I’m expecting an uneventful transition.”
The FDA doesn’t care what you expect.
But I keep that one to myself too.
“Yes, Father.”
Click.
Would it kill the man to say goodbye once in a while? Probably, yes.
I remind myself that his opinion doesn’t matter to me, but it still slides under my skin, if only a little. My phone vibrates again before I can put it away. Enzo.
“Hi,” I answer, anticipating another tongue-lashing.
“Where the hell are you?”
“Sorry,” I say sincerely. “I’m just coming into the building now.”
“I don’t even want to know.”
I silently agree.
“Take your time. We already ran through introductions, and I convinced them to take a ten-minute coffee break, assuring them you’d be here by then.”
“I will be. Just have to run into the men’s room. Traffic was horrific, had to walk the last four blocks.”
I can see Enzo’s eyes rolling through the phone.
“Poor baby. Get your ass up here.”
My ass is what got me into this situation. I went to my neighborhood bar, intending to have a drink or two and head home at a reasonable hour, but a fiery redhead groped me on the way out. Admittedly, I’d been checking her out from across the bar, my interest not the least bit subtle.
