Page 4 of Scrooge

“Find someone?” I ask, confused, having no idea what he is now talking about.

“You need to find a steady girlfriend. Commit to someone,” he states, and I almost laugh, but it doesn’t come. I haven’t laughed since my father passed.

“Don’t need to. Don’t want to. Won't be,” I say, planning to remain single for eternity, because the last thing I want is commitment. I want full control of my money, my time, my possessions, and my sperm.

“If the city and your stakeholders can see you committed to someone, then they would feel better about committing to you, whether that is in business, working for you, or seeing you as the leader you want to become,” Sheridan says.

“So you are saying I need to be committed to someone in order to be taken seriously?” I scoff, shaking my head. It is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.

“A girlfriend,” Laurent confirms.

“Not happening,” I say quickly, not even entertaining it.

“Alexander. You are almost thirty; your playboy ways need to stop. You need to commit to someone for people to start taking you seriously,” Laurent confirms, and I feel bitterness settling at the back of my throat.

“We can find someone for you. You need to show people that you don’t just think about yourself. That you are concerned about others and that others are concerned about you. Maybe even position you as a family man of sorts,” Sheridan says, and I’m already scowling, hating the idea.

“I am not getting a girlfriend. But if you want a holiday party, put together a detailed proposal and have it on my desk by next week. I will consider it,” I tell them, wanting to wrap up this meeting and knowing that this is the fastest way to do it.

“Really?” Laurent looks taken aback.

“We will. We will get it to you early in the week,” Sheridan adds as she stands, pulling Laurent up beside her. I nod, remaining in my seat, thinking about things.

“Any plans for Thanksgiving, Alexander?” Laurent asks. Small talk is not something I do, so I know he has an ulterior motive for asking.

“Cabo,” I quip. The lie comes out so quickly it is frightening. But they don’t need to know that I will be sitting home alone. No parents, no siblings, and probably no turkey. It’s my first Thanksgiving without my father, and I don’t really feel like celebrating.

“Well, don’t create a disturbance and don’t flash around some other young blonde in skimpy clothing. We don’t need another PR disaster to manage.” His warning makes my skin prickle.

“Anything else?” I ask as I stand behind my desk, waiting for them to go, ignoring his statement.

“Have a good weekend,” Sheridan says as she turns and walks out, Laurent following, and my door finally closes. As they and most of my staff either head home for the weekend or maybe out for after-work drinks, I walk back to the window and look out again. It isn’t snowing yet, but I can feel that it will come early this year. It is already cold, and the clouds are hanging lower than usual. They are easier to see from my office that sits over sixty floors up. My father always used to say when the clouds are touching the top of the Empire State Building, snow is not far away.

There is a knock at my office door, and I look at the time. Five on the dot.

“Enter,” I bark, knowing exactly who it is and what they want.

“I am leaving for the day, sir. Is there anything else you need before I go?” Angela asks as she stands at the open door. Angela has been here for years now, assisting my father and now me. She is the one constant I have, and while I know I am hard to handle, she puts up with me.

“No, thank you,” I say, and she gives me a small smile as she starts to back away.

“Angela?” I get her attention quickly before she closes the door entirely.

“Yes, sir?”

I swallow as I look at her.She is a great staff member, and before my father died, we used to be close. But I roll my shoulders, knowing that I am not the same man I was before.

“Have a good weekend,” I say to her, nodding, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

She pauses, looking almost shocked before she gives me a warm smile. One I feel a mother would give their son.

“You have a great weekend too, Alexander,” she says warmly, then closes the door, and I am once again alone. Light rain drops scatter on the window, and I take in a breath.

I need to go for a walk.

3

HAYLEE

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