forty,” Connor whispered, making her laugh.
His father went on, sharing humorous anecdotes with the occasional name drop. “So you see,” his father concluded, “I thought I knew where I’d be at sixty. I had a plan that I’d sail off into a life of boats and sunsets. I had Connor, the son you all know I respect, ready to take the helm of Finch Liquor Distribution. But now that I’m here, it’s not what I want.”
It’s not what I want.
Connor’s heart skipped a beat. It skipped another when his father looked right at him.
“I’ve spoken with my brother and have come to a decision. I’m not ready for a life of retirement.”
The words ripped right through Connor. He couldn’t be about to say what Connor was imagining. His father couldn’t have made him commit the last eight years to the family business with the promise of the head job only to rip it away.
“In discussion with Cameron, I’ve decided that I’m going to remain the CEO of Finch Liquor Distribution for the next five years.”
The cheers and clapping echoed the roar between Connor’s ears. He looked over to his uncle’s table where Cameron, who was staring right back at him, raised his glass and nodded. The movement was barely noticeable. But the grin was.
Cameron knew his days were numbered under Connor’s leadership. And by encouraging Donovan to stay on for another five years, he had secured his own future.
A hand held his arm down firmly on the table. “Smile,” his mother encouraged. “Fake it. Pretend it doesn’t bother you,” she said through her own hard smile. “Get through the next ten minutes.”
Connor did as she suggested. He plastered a smile on his face and raised his glass in a toast to his father. The asshole who had told him the company was his.
He watched as his father stepped down from the stage and circled the room. Silently, Connor fumed as he ran through scenarios of what to say to his father when he finally made it to their table. What he should say was that his father and uncle could go fuck themselves, but the fragment of his measured self that was left knew there was nothing to be gained beyond an immediate release of anger.
A part of Connor wanted to simply grab his jacket from the back of his chair and storm out of the room. He didn’t give a fuck who saw it.
But the business would still be his someday. Perhaps he could change his father’s mind, shorten it to two years. Part-time. A partial handover of responsibility. Perhaps he could find a way to convince his father to fire Cameron, find an approach he hadn’t tried.
No matter how badly he wanted to walk out of there, he’d stay and pretend he was fine. To help with the illusion, he knocked back two doubles in quick succession. Slowly, he managed to get his feet back under him.
By his strategic estimates, the business would decline by at least twenty percent if his father didn’t change his path by the time Connor took control in five years.
There would, God willing, still be the assets he needed to rebuild the business. The next five years would be about protecting the assets they had and preventing his father from making any large acquisitions that were out of line with his plans.
It would be a battle of wills. A silent fucking war. He was smarter than the two of them. While his father had relied on strong gut instinct, one that had been pretty damn accurate, he was growing out of touch. He relied on insight from Connor. From now on, Connor would shape that intel to meet his own aspirations, and if that didn’t work, he’d consider leaving. He could make huge progress elsewhere in five years. He wasn’t prepared to let his uncle and father stall his career.
If they wanted to fuck around with his future, he’d fuck with theirs.
By the time his father reached Connor’s table, his shield was up, his brain clear, and his plan formulated.
“Connor, son,” his father said, his words ever so slightly slurred. “You know how important you are to me, to the business. I’m sure this is a bit of a shock, but I’m sure you can see it’s for the best.”
Connor looked around before he stood up to shake his father’s hand. He pulled him close for the appearance of a son congratulating his father. “This is not the time or place for this