Page 3 of Lucas
I suppress a smirk.
When Liam was in high school, he brought a girl over here once. I think it was the only time because when Dad mentioned that the zipper of her jeans was open, the poor thing nearly choked, ran off to the bathroom, and barricaded herself inside. It took Liam hours to coax her out, and I don’t think they ever saw each other again after that fiasco.
I hope Cora didn’t tell Arlo that story. If she did, he might just puke from sheer nerves.
Dad stands and holds out his hand as well. “Peter. Pleasure.”
Arlo takes a step forward to shake it, but his foot catches on the edge of the coffee table. He stumbles, knocking over the cup of tea Cora just brought in. The hot liquid sloshes across the table.
I glance down to hide my amusement. There’s a significant chance we may witness another hasty exit here.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Arlo grabs a napkin and tries to blot up the spreading stain.
“Anika!” Dad calls out.
Our housekeeper appears in seconds, her eyes widening as she takes in the mess. “I’ll clean that right up, Mr. Valeur.”
Cora tugs Arlo back upright. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Let’s just sit.”
As they settle onto the sofa together, I seize the opportunity to make my escape while Dad’s distracted by this new interruption.
“I need to run,” I announce, pushing to my feet. “It was nice meeting you, Arlo. Sorry, but I can’t stick around.”
“No worries,” Arlo replies with a tight smile. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other.”
I nod and beat a hasty retreat before Dad remembers he was in the middle of giving me a marriage ultimatum from hell.
I’m not built for monogamy, and I’m certainly not husband material. The sooner Dad accepts that, the better.
Chapter Two
AVA
Father slams the folder on my polished mahogany desk. “You gave them too low a price,” he growls, his weathered face flushed with anger. The veins in his neck bulge above his starched collar.
I lower my voice, all too aware of how thin the office walls are. Everyone outside can hear us.
“I didn’t have a choice. Prescott Construction put in a bid nearly twenty percent below ours. If we don’t offer competitive prices, we’ll lose every project.”
Doesn’t he understand we need every contract, every dollar of revenue we can scrape together right now?
“No choice?” Father scoffs and throws his hands up. “There’s always a choice, Ava. Where’s that killer instinct? I can’t believe I’m handing my company over to someone so weak. Why the hell couldn’t I have had a soninstead of you?”
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back. I won’t let him see me cry. “I just took over. Give me some time to?—”
“Time?” He laughs. “She wants more time,” he mumbles under his breath. “Darling, we don’t have more time. You’re going to run this company into the ground at the rate you’re going, practically giving projects away.”
No, Father. You ran the company into the ground, then left me to deal with the fallout, knowing full well I couldn’t dig us out of this hole. We’re on the verge of bankruptcy. I guess you wanted to blame your daughter instead of taking responsibility for your failures.
I bite my tongue, the scathing words I long to hurl at him echoing in my skull.
But as always, I can’t bring myself to say them to his face, to break out of the obedient, respectful daughter mold. So, I just lower my gaze to the blotter on my desk, the calendar blurring as tears swim in my vision.
Father leans forward, bracing his hands on the leather chair across from me. “Your only saving grace is the Pearl Garden development deal. If you can land that whale of a contract, it might generate enough cash flow to pull us back from the brink. It’s the golden goose, Ava. Don’t you dare fuck it up.”
I grasp onto the project name like a lifeline. “Who is the developer?”
“They’re announcing it today. But it doesn’t matter. Whoever the developer is, you need to get your ass in their boardroom and walk out with that project. Gant Construction supplies Pearl Garden, or we go under. It’s that fucking simple. Understand?” His eyes bore into mine.
