Page 414 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
He nodded. “I’m sixty-five. I never intended to work past sixty, but when the time rolled around, I wasn’t ready to step down and throw in the towel yet, and truth be told, you needed a few more years under your belt to, well…” He trailed off.
I arched an eyebrow. “To what?”
“Grow up,” he said.
“That isn’t what you were going to say.”
He scratched at his clean-shaven chin. “You’re right. I was going to say ‘get your head out of your ass.’”
“Fair enough, but let’s be honest, five years ago it wasn’t my ass I was busy trying to—”
“Stop.”
I bit my tongue and gave him a shit-eating grin.
My father sighed with exasperation, but his eyes danced with humor. “This is serious, Chadwick. This is my last year at the company. As of January first, it will all be yours.”
I stared blankly at him.
My father’s amusement grew until a deep chuckle left him. Even though he was a much older man now, I still remembered that laugh sounding exactly the same when I was a young boy. On Christmas morning I had a memory of coming down the grand staircase of the estate house. My feet were bare and silent on the red runner down the wood stairs, and on the second landing I heard my father’s laugh rumble throughout the house. I’d crouched down and peered through the bannisters, where I spied my mother and father dancing to a Nat King Cole song in the kitchen while the coffee brewed.
They’d loved each other like people loved each other in movies, straight until the night we lost her five years ago.
Personally, I’d assumed my father held off on retiring because he needed the work as a distraction. We both did. But I’d let him say it was because I needed to, as he’d so gracefully put it, get my head out of my ass.
“January first, huh?” I ran my hands down my thighs as my palms started to sweat. This was the moment I’d been waiting for, but now that it was here, it felt so much more intense than I expected. My grandfather and his father before him had built this company up from nothing. I couldn’t be the heir to blow it all to hell. This economy was treacherous and unforgiving. I’d have to be smart and make all the right moves.
I’d need the good people around me who had helped make my father so successful.
“January first,” my father said with a slight nod. “But I want you to spearhead December. I’m taking a step back this month. This will be your debut to the country as the CEO of Bamford’s. Christmas is about new beginnings. I can’t think of a better time to give the company over to you, son.”
He stood.
So did I.
I moved around his desk, and he held out his hand for me to shake.
“Screw that,” I said, before pushing his hand down, grabbing his shoulder, and pulling him in for a hug. I clapped him on the back and breathed in the familiar nostalgic smell that I would always associate with my old man: sandalwood, sage, and a hint of lemon. “I won’t let you down.”
CHAPTER 3
TINSELY
“Board meeting!” Chadwick’s voice boomed through the office, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I knocked over my collection of pens. They scattered across my desk, and as I grabbed at them, I clipped my half-empty coffee cup, spilling lukewarm gingerbread latte all over my keyboard.
“Shoot.” I picked the keyboard up and held it vertically, letting the coffee run off between the keys. It pooled on my white desk and I scrambled to find spare napkins in my drawers to wipe it up before it dribbled onto the carpet.
“Let’s move, people!” Chadwick began walking laps around the office and clapping his hands together like a beating drum. “We don’t have all day. Looking good, Leanne. Aleena, don’t look at me like that. Keep your eyes on the ceiling. That Christmas branch, stick, whatever it is, looks crooked.”
Aleena rolled her eyes while everyone else scurried around the office to get to the board room. I spied through the glass that all the good chairs were already taken by board members, and Alastair had already secured his usual spot at the head of the table.
Chadwick passed my desk and frowned as I scrambled to clean up my mess. He clicked his tongue. “I guess my first order of business will be finding you a replacement keyboard.”
“What?”
He kept on walking, completely disregarding my confusion.
Once my desk was dry—still sticky, but dry—I grabbed my red binder and rushed into the board room, where there was just enough space for me to stand in a corner by the windows. While the stragglers came in, I peered up at the still cloudy sky. It hadn’t started snowing yet.
