Page 24 of Wild Card

“No…they only told me to wait in the room and said he’d be there shortly. Except he never showed up.” I shrugged, feeling my face burn at the lie. I would have rather died than admit I gave in to whoever it was that had invited her. It was mortifying enough that he’d kicked me out once he realized I wasn’t her. There was no way I was telling her.

“Well, I’m sorry about your article. I was hoping you’d get something juicy out of it.”

I shrugged again, feeling like it was my default mode. “It’s fine. At least I got to see the process and everything. Which reminds me…” I dug around in my massive purse to see if I’d brought my notebook. “Did you get to keep a copy of the contract you signed?”

She nodded, putting her blinker on. “Yeah, it was really basic, but I still have it.”

I could have wept with joy. “If you can get me a copy, I would be so grateful.”

“Mal, you aren’t going to share it in your article, right? You won’t share my name…?” She worried her lip, slowing for the red light ahead of us.

“No way. I’d never do that to you.” I looked over at her. “You know I wouldn’t, right?”

She glanced at me briefly before the light turned again. Quietly, she replied, “Yeah, I know.”

Good. I wanted to be done with this conversation, because I hated lying to her.

“What do you think Dad wants?” I asked as Taylor maneuvered in the parking garage.

Her small sigh told me she’d been talking to him behind my back. Sometimes during family brunch, the two of them would start talking business and I’d usually just check out, but with graduation creeping up on us, I wondered if there was something I had missed.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I flipped the mirror down, adjusting my makeup and applying my lipstick. I didn’t really need it, but I liked to look professional when we entered my father’s building.

“Don’t freak out,” Taylor softly requested while tugging her mirror down and pulling her lipstick free.

I turned my face to watch her apply the soft coral color to her lips, waiting for her to spill. I should have asked the question on the trip here, and now I was on pins and needles.

“Look, I know you don’t want anything to do with the company, but I do. I’d be stupid not to get involved with it. There’s going to be someone who takes over for him when he retires, and since you don’t want it…” She trailed off, snapping the lid of her lipstick back on.

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. I knew we’d just get into an argument if I said anything. So, I opened my door and got out.

“You’re not mad?” She chased after me, locking the door on our way to the elevator. The loud chirp echoed off the white cement at our feet.

“I’m not mad. I just want you to be happy, Tay. That’s all.” And free from the disgusting men who would eat my little stepsister and her fat bank account for breakfast. Someone would inherit my father’s fortune through her, and she was naïve enough to accept that guy even knowing he might only be there for the money. She’d do all this to fulfill some misplaced desire to please the only father she’d ever known. My dad wanted one of us—actually, both of us—to work for him. I was sure he wanted to play us like chess pieces, corporate moles, or arm candy for the men he wanted to negotiate with. I wouldn’t play his games, and I had hoped my stepsister wouldn’t either.

We rode the elevator to the lobby, where we disembarked and checked in with security. Once we had our badges on, we ventured toward the gleaming chrome elevator doors that would take us up to his office.

Twelve floors later, we were exiting and padding across marble floors that had recently been waxed. Glass windows stretched along the walls, showing off the city and the gleaming sun, blue skies, and zero clouds. It was a gorgeous day, and I could almost feel the heat as we bypassed my father’s secretary and pushed open the glass doors to his office.

My father wanted a completely transparent ‘brand.’ He didn’t hide anything, and in turn, he hoped whoever he did business with wouldn’t hide anything either. It had worked wonders for him so far, and my stepmother Jackie liked that he could never be alone with anyone or cheat on her in his office. Maybe she liked to ignore the fact that he did have blinds, and with a push of a button—total privacy. But my dad wasn’t a cheater…he just wasn’t built that way. Not after losing my mom.

“Girls!” he exclaimed, standing from his chair and walking toward us.

We both leaned into his hug before taking the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. Once upon a time, there had been only one chair and a much smaller desk…but once Taylor came along, he always made sure there was a chair for each of us when we came to visit him. Memories of being sixteen and stuck in his office for the day came barreling back. His money was new to me, just like his new wife and daughter, and while they all seemed to get along swimmingly, I was left in the deep end, treading water.

“I wanted to talk to you about an upcoming dinner event.” He perched on his desk, his Tom Ford suit barely shifting as he tucked his hands into his pockets. I liked that he always got right to the point. No mincing words or fluffy pleasantries. “This dinner will be an important one, and I’d like you both to attend. I plan on having a few investors and shareholders at this event. As you know, they’re weighing in on the future of Shaw Corp…” He trailed off, bringing his hand up to his chin. My father’s hair was still mostly dark, just a single streak of grey running along each side. His tan skin looked darker than normal, evidence of his recent trip to the Caribbean. He liked to take Jackie every chance he got.

“We always attend your events, Dad—what’s so different about this one?” I asked, curious about his behavior. He never felt the need to warn us or have a special conversation prior to other events.

He hesitated, looking at Taylor for just a brief second. “You both graduate this year, and you’re going to be more involved with business meetings and events…I just want you to be prepared. Don’t wear those ratty tennis shoes you like to wear.” He leaned forward to grab my shoe in jest.

I relished the soft smile he gave me because, for a second, he looked like the Charlie I grew up with. Ratty shirts, flannel, denim, and coupons…we had practically been poor once upon a time, back after Mom’s accident. For five years, I had him all to myself, and those years I’d cherish for all eternity.

“I’ll dress appropriately, Dad.” I laughed softly, gently kicking him with my shoe.

“You need to bring dates as well, please.” His gaze went toward Taylor again, and the smallest wince seemed to spear his features.

I looked over at Taylor, whose head was lowered, her arms tucked in tight.

---