Page 48 of Unconventionally, Elle
He looked over at me, surprised.
"You are correct in your assumption."
His eyes widened and his brows rose in question.
"I do not have retirement benefits or any other benefits with this current position. However, I had a very successful, very financially rewarding career for many years prior to moving to Boston. I do, in fact, have a 401(k) and an investment portfolio, but forgive me, I don't typically brag about it at the dinner table."
Barrett whispered in my ear, "Elle . . ."
But I kept my fierce stare on Mr. Henry. Fire was burning in my eyes, and Mr. Henry wasn't going to treat me like Chrisor Mr. Landry had. I wouldn't allow it. I deserved better as a woman trying to be enough in a society that was rooting against me.
"Elle, please, you don't have to justify yourself here. Please. It's not worth it." Barrett squeezed my hand and tried to assuage my anger.
I ignored him.
"You are very interesting, Elle Watson." Mr. Henry held my gaze; he was a powerful man, after all. "You chose to work for less. Or did you think you'd meet someone? Someone like my son?"
Okay. This made sense now.
"Dear, stop. Who wouldn't want to meet someone like Barrett? He's simply the light of my life--and such a good boy." Mrs. Henry waved her hand whimsically in the air.
"Motherrr," Barrett groaned. Though, it was pretty cute the way she doted on him.
"I'm not questioning that, my dear." His voice was sarcastic and crass. "But someone like our son, who is very wealthy and from agoodBoston family, is quite the catch. Wouldn't you agree, Barrett?" He turned to his son and gave him a cold grin with thin pressed lips and a maniacal head tilt.
"She's happy, Father. Sometimes all the money in the world can't buy happiness," Barrett said tightly.
"Happy?" Mr. Henry sneered with laughter. "This must be a new generational thing. Right? Happy? I've never heard of such a thing." Then Mr. Henry lifted a finger and smirked at Barrett. "Well, almost never, right, Barrett, my boy? Didn't you once say you weren't happy?" He looked right at me as he spoke. "I set him straight. Right, Barrett?"
Barrett was trembling, his eyes were narrowed, and his nostrils flared. I squeezed his hand tighter and pulled slightly to keep him seated.
Mr. Henry continued with his harassment. "Something about sailboats and Nantucket--what an idea." Mr. Henry waved his hands dismissively. "You were born to lead this company, and it took a while, but we've come to an understanding. Right, Barrett? Happiness? What do they teach you at college these days?" he said with disdain.
At the other side of the table, Mrs. Henry was staring at her glass, nodding silently, barely listening.
"One day, you kids will figure it out. You need to be successful and have money like we do. You don't want to end up on the streets or, worse, be forced to fly commercial. These hobbies and such, they won't do for long. They don't pay the bills. You can't be a successful writer." He glared at me, then back to Barrett. "And I refuse to allow you to do anything that will jeopardize our family legacy or our company. Do you hear me, boy?"
Barrett was stone-still. He didn't give his father the satisfaction of a reply. I didn't expect Mr. Henry to be so savage. He had thrown back quite a bit of scotch, but still, this man was awful.
We continued to sit in silence for what felt like an eternity but was only a long, agonizing minute. Mr. Henry kept checking his watch, and Barrett was inhaling and exhaling deeply and controlled. I could feel the rage emitting from his body.
I shouldn't have said anything, we were almost done with this fiasco, but I became brave for a few seconds and ran with the opening. "I'm also writing a book," I declared with a lift of my chin.
Barrett's neck whipped around and he stared at me, his eyes pleading with me to stop. But I couldn't. I was pissed, and no one was going to make us feel like we were less than.
"A book?" Mrs. Henry finally spoke.
"Yes, a book," I replied, noticing her interested stare. "With all due respect, Mr. Henry, I don't believe a corporate career is for everyone."
He rolled his eyes as if my voice inconvenienced him further. "And yes, I did leave security and money and comfort. I did it because it was right for me, and not everyone needs to lead the life others dictate for them." At that, I looked over at Barrett and felt his grip tighten. "I'm experiencing unfiltered joy with your son." I didn't break eye contact with Mr. Henry. "I love your son."
Mrs. Henry sat silently with a curious look on her face. Her eyes darted between me and Barrett, and I noticed the tiniest smile appear on her lips. She reached for her wine again. The room was heavy, and the tension could be cut with a butter knife.
"Oh, look at the time. I must be going." Mr. Henry tossed his dinner napkin on his plate and rose to his feet. "My driver is outside. See, Barrett, you won't get a driver until you start making those big deals." And with that, he nodded to me and Mrs. Henry, turned around, and never looked back.
Harold came in through the doorway moments after Mr. Henry rushed out. I had a feeling he'd been waiting for the atmosphere to cool down. He walked up next to Mrs. Henry and made his announcement. "I'm sorry, madam. Miss Emma called to say she is staying home for the evening. She just got in from the city and won't make it in time." He bowed his head in regret, but Mrs. Henry just waved her hand in indifference.
That was our cue. Barrett squeezed my hand, and we exchanged a glance that said we were on the same page.
