Page 43 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
The goodwill Archie’s built up in the last fifteen minutes slips away faster than a fast fashion trend. The conversation I overheard him have with Malcolm is still fresh in my mind, and I know that he’s trying to undercut Mom.
“No. Mom was promised the house.”
“Hear me out,” Archie rushes to say. “If your Mom had money, she could buy both of you houses and still have plenty of cash left over to invest or?—”
“She could sell the house and do the same thing.” I clutch my bag tighter. “And she’d get what it’s worth, not less than, like you told Malcolm he could get away with paying her. I heard your conversation with him, Archie.”
His head whips my way. “But she wouldn’t have to pay taxes or realtor commissions. She’d avoid the hassle of selling. She’d have the same amount of money as if she’d sold it herself, but quicker and cleaner.”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes that makes me wonder if he’s telling the truth, but I brush it aside as wishful thinking. I can’t let my little girl fantasies of having a protective older brother or my big girl attraction to this grown-up Archie with abs get in the way of doing what’s best for Mom.
I shake my head. “Malcolm already didn’t go for it, and Mom will get screwed. Again.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get screwed,” he says quickly. “I want to make this better for her, not worse.”
I’d like to believe him, but there’s too much at stake.
Archie is Malcolm Forsythe’s son and heir. It’s in his DNA to manipulate people in order to get what he—and Malcolm—want.
“And better for yourself in the process?” I scoff. “You never liked my mom, and now I’m supposed to trustyouto make sure she gets what she deserves?”
Archie’s face colors. “It would be better for both of you to take the cash. I swear,” he says quietly as he stops in front of Valente.
“No. It would be better foryou.” I calmly open the door and slide out before facing him again. “Malcolm has a dozen houses. I’m sure you can have your pick. You only want this one because you can’t have it.”
His eyes flash a million shades of green as he narrows them on me. “You’ve got it all wrong, Piper. Could I at least try to explain my idea to Cynthia?”
I tear my eyes away from his and lift my shoulders in a shaky shrug. “Even if I could get a hold of Mom to tell her your half-assed idea, I wouldn’t tell her it was a good one. I’d tell her exactly what I’m telling you. I’m not leaving the house, and I’m not going to get behind anything that isn’t what’s best for Mom.”
I slam the door shut and walk toward the front doors, leaving Archie and his stupid offer behind. Happy that I didn’t tell him what’s coming next.
Or, at least as happy as Icanbe with the image of his eyes burning with emotion imprinted in my brain.
“Stick to the plan, Piper,” I mutter.
Now isn’t the time to let thoughts of Archie as anything other than my tormentor weasel their way into my head. No matter how tempted I am to dive into the shimmering green of his eyes.
Chapter 16
Archie
Iglare at Piper all the way to the doors of Valente. She can’t see me, but I don’t care. It makes me feel better to give her a dirty look. I’d keep glaring at her after she swipes her card to open the doors, but the dark mirrored windows reflect my van rather than letting me see inside the building.
I check my rearview mirror and get a glimpse of purple peeking out from under my beanie, which makes me glare harder as I pull back onto the street. Just when I think Piper is a reasonable human being, she proves me wrong again. My plan is better for her and Cynthia than what Dad’s offering, but she’s too stubborn to see it. It’s maddening.She’smaddening.
Except, the more I think about what she’s said, the more I kinda see her point. Based on Dad’s behavior, I can’t fault her lack of trust. I shouldn’t be blamed for anything Dad’s done, but I haven’t earned any goodwill with the way I treated her when she was a kid. Giving her a ride to work one day after I sabotaged her isn’t going to undo the past. And she doesn’t know that I’m the reason, not Dad, she’s got a room in the beach house for the next two weeks.
All of which doesn’t change the fact I’ll be wasting the morning at the hairdressers instead of focusing on my businessplan. I’ve brought my iPad in case I’m able to do any research while Juan works his magic on my hair. But I’d rather be home, getting inspiration from the waves instead of staring at my purple-haired self in the salon mirror while I fine tune my loose plan into something Dad will approve.
Although, I didn’t do so well yesterday with the waves right outside my window and Piper’s pranks lurking around every corner. I spent most of the day on the wave instead of in front of my laptop where I could’ve been. I felt a bit overwhelmed with the realization that my plan needs to be a full-blown proposal that includes analytics, marketing plans, demographics and distribution plans. I know how to gather and compile all that information, but I only have ten days left to create the kind of proposal I spent half a semester working on at university.
And it doesn’t just have to be good for Dad. If he won’t give Cynthia money instead of the house or give me access to my money, I’ll need a full proposal to take to a bank or investors. It’s a last resort, but one I need to be prepared for.
It's been years since I created a business plan. Originally, I went to university to please Dad, but then I found I had a knack for business. My biggest struggle wasn’t understanding the concepts and doing well on projects. It was feeling like I had to work double hard to prove to everyone—including myself—that I deserved my spot in the business college based on my own merit and not because Dad had donated millions to the school.
I’m glad I earned my degree before I learned how Dad had manipulated Mum and caused their divorce, otherwise I might’ve dropped out just to spite him. When I told Mum Cynthia had filed for divorce, I expected her to be pleased Cynthia had finally got hers, but Mum’s response had been, “at least they don’t have kids.” Then she’d spilled the truth about why she’d given Dad custody and let him take us to America.
Dad had sold Frankie and me a story about Mum giving up full custody of us because she thought we’d be better off with him. Turns out, the reason we were better off with him is that he’d threatened to take everything from Mum if she fought him, including visitation rights.
