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Given the issues we’d been having in the company lately, from software problems to interns being poached by our rivals, the last thing I wanted was to hear from Michael Shaw himself.
Especially because my father had a way of making me feel worse about everything.
I stared at the phone until it stopped ringing.
A few moments later, it started again, and I squinted at it. Reluctantly, I set the phone down on the counter and put him on speaker. “Hello.”
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer.”
“I was busy,” I replied before shifting from one foot to the other. “Is everything okay?”
“I heard Carla is back in town,” my father said after a brief pause. “I never did understand why the two of you broke things off, especially when you know how important an alliance between the two of you is.”
“Carla and I aren’t a good match, dad. We want very different things. I told you this already.”
My father scoffed. “Nonsense. The two of you just needed time to adapt to each other. These things take time.”
“No amount of time was going to make a difference, trust me.”
“Don’t tell me you still think you should marry for love.”
I stiffened and gripped the edges of the counter. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“I know I raised you better than that,” my father told me, a hard edge to his voice. “A marriage is an alliance. It should strengthen and expand your position.”
“Not everything is a business deal, dad.”
“This is why your company is never going to succeed,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “Because you can’t make hard decisions. How can you be expected to lead if you’re not setting a good example?”
“My company is succeeding,” I replied coldly. “We’re one of the best insurance companies in the country.”
And he knew it too.
But he loved to get under my skin and get a rise out of me.
As far as he was concerned, nothing I ever did would be enough for him. Having chosen to forge my own path and build my own company from the ground up, without his sleep, my father had done everything he could to undermine me at every turn. He’d even gone to some great lengths to target my projects, nearly succeeding in ruining them altogether.
Growing up with him had given me a distinct advantage.
At every turn, I stopped him.
Every difficulty and disadvantage only made me work harder.
And he hated it.
All my life, my father tried to mold me into the spitting image of him, starting with a private education at the most elite school in the country to springing for a fancy college abroad. My father had done everything to groom me into his successor, and he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he’d failed.
All these years later, and he still couldn’t understand why I’d chosen to walk away.
Being raised as his son had been hard enough.
Knowing I would never live up to the weight of his expectations and forever living in his shadow had been worse. It had taken me too long to realize it, but it wasn’t until I was standing on an empty stage in my college gown and cap that I had known for sure. Since then, he hadn’t forgiven me for walking away.
Nor was he likely to.
“I heard you’re having some problems with your interns,” he said after a lengthy silence. “I doubt your company can recover from that. What are you going to do if you can’t hire new people?”
“I’ll figure it out,” I told him evenly. “I always do.”
