expectations that went along with it. I was required to play a part, to show up and be the prodigal son who couldn’t wait to come work for the company, but I wasn’t sure I could do all the faking this year. I hated the lying.
“Hey, Curtis, do you know where my mom is?”
I wondered why she hadn’t come to pick me up, but I knew that it was already late enough in the afternoon that she was probably too drunk to drive. It made me angry with her, and I hated being mad at my mom. I felt like a piece-of-shit son for judging her drinking when I knew that it was her way of coping.
Still, her choices pissed me off.
“I believe Mrs. Davies is at home,” he answered, and I couldn’t tell if he knew about her situation or not. He honestly didn’t sound like he did. But he could just be a good actor. My dad would hire nothing but the best in order to protect the family reputation.
Curtis turned the wrong way, and I sat up straighter, growing uncomfortable with each second that passed.
“You’re not taking me to the house?”
His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “He asked me to bring you by the office.”
Fuck. The dog and pony show was beginning earlier than usual.
DD typically waited until the company holiday party to tote me around and force me into uncomfortable conversations. But apparently, not this year.
“I’ll wait here,” Curtis said as he pulled into a designated parking spot in front of the large building.
Maybe this trip to the office was going to be short and quick. If DD had planned on keeping me here all night, he would have sent Curtis away and driven me home after.
I left my bag in the seat and walked inside, pressing the elevator button for the fifth floor. I could find my dad’s office with my eyes closed, but when the doors opened, DD was standing there, waiting for me.
There was no hug. No smile. Nothing that indicated he was even remotely pleased to see me. Typical DD, the eternal asshole. He gave me a once-over, clearly disapproving of my casual attire, but I hadn’t known he was bringing me here. Had I known, I wouldn’t have changed anyway, so fuck him.
“Follow me.” He started speed-walking, and I practically had to break out into a light jog to keep up with his pace.
He walked me into an empty office with floor-to-ceiling windows on one of the walls. The room was massive, already fitted with a couch, a TV mounted on the wall, and an attached washroom.
“This is yours,” he said with a flick of his hand.
“My what?”
“This will be your office when you start in June,” he said, ignoring the fact that the draft was in June and the last thing I wanted was to ever come work here, baseball or not.
I swallowed around the newly formed lump in my throat. “I thought I was starting in the mailroom?” I asked sarcastically, giving him the wrong idea that I was actually interested in this shit.
“Oh, you are.” He leaned toward me, his tone menacing. “But no son of mine can stay at the bottom for long. It’s all for show. Formality, you see. That way, no one can complain that you didn’t pay your dues.” He sounded so proud of his plan.
“When’s the Christmas party?” I asked, completely ignoring everything he’d just said. The same way he pretended like my future in baseball didn’t exist.
“Tomorrow night. You’ll be expected to show up with me and your mother and not leave before we do,” he said, as if I didn’t already know the rules.
It was the same thing year after year. Arrive at the party as a family, smile, pretend that we can all stand each other instead of wanting to rip each other’s throats out. Leave your cell phone at home. Be excited about the company and your future in it. Ignore all questions about baseball. Try not to look as dead on the outside as you feel on the inside. Smile. Lie. Smile. Pretend. Smile. Fake it. Don’t make me look bad. Don’t embarrass me.
“Don’t you have something you’d like to say to me?” he asked, his power trip firmly in place as he leaned up against the desk that was supposed to be mine in a matter of months.
“Um, I’m not sure.” I had no idea what he was waiting to hear from me.
“How about thank