“Stained glass?”
“That was my reaction,” he says, throwing a hand out. “But you know her. This week it’s stained glass, next week it’s salsa dancing.” Another look of disinterest. “How was your drive? I couldn’t believe you lot drove across the country. I can’t imagine sitting for so long. And having to stop and find places to eat…” Disgust tugs at his lips. “How was the Tesla, though? Did it handle well? I heard you can set it to cruise control and watch a film.”
I glance at the clock again. It’s been over half an hour. Chloe’s likely catching a car now, if she hasn’t already. “I don’t know if you’d want to watch a film, but I like it. Powerful, efficient, comfortable. Not much more you can ask for.”
He smiles again, leaning forward this time. “You’ve changed,” he tells me. “Maybe it’s Brighton, maybe it’s having this work experience, but I can tell you’ve changed. You’re thinking like a CEO. You’re seeing the bigger picture and looking out for the business.”
I’m getting whiplash trying to catch up with him, and still, I’m uncertain if this is a trap, half expecting for his face to turn crimson and him to start bellowing about meddling with his company.
“I want you to be my successor.” The words hang in the air like a cloud—something I’m able to see and consider. I’ve been waiting for years to have my father take me seriously. They reverberate, echoing in my ears again and again as we stare at one another.
“What about Lewis?”
“He’ll be a great second—able to help you with whatever you see fit. This was never about me trying to choose Lewis over you. I’ve always dreamed of you continuing the legacy of this company, but I didn’t think you really wanted to do it. I assumed it only meant money and power to you, but now, I see it means a great deal more. You were able to pick out and distinguish an underlying issue without a single person having been suspicious.” His eyes shine with affection in a matching expression to the one I saw when he’d found out about my snack shop in Miami.
“Dad, I’ve always loved the hotels. I grew up in the hotels. Jesus, I learned mathematics by listening to grandad talk about stocks and quotas and geography by traveling to the different sites.”
He grins. “It’s in your blood.”
I want to argue and tell him it’s much deeper than just in my blood. I’ve lived it, experienced it, invested my past and future into the business. Still, I’m shell-shocked. Though this is exactly what I’d hoped might happen, it didn’t seem realistic—still doesn’t. I might have been able to recognize that Avery was embezzling, but it doesn’t negate the fact my entire college career was chosen based upon my role as the CEO of the hotel. Or the fact that I spent much of the summer with my father in Australia, working to find the right location for our next site, pouring over land use laws and maps, and statistics to help formulate the best plan for all parties. Or that I’ve helped develop half a dozen other times. It doesn’t negate that I’ve had to step into the laundry room and help run washers when the flu was running rampant through our Oahu location, or that I’ve been petitioning my grandad and father to help pay for education and better insurance for employees in America. This isn’t my first involvement, and though it might come with the largest dollar amount, it doesn’t even feel like that big of an achievement.
Maybe because it still feels personal?
“I appreciate the opportunity. I will continue learning from you and working to uphold our family’s legacy.” The words sound too formal, feel too formal, but it’s my father, after all.
“That’s why I’m here.” He moves so his palms are flat against the table. “Brighton is a great school, but you can go to school anywhere. Every university wants to have you. I spoke with your grandad, and we think it would be best if you transferred to London. We can work side by side, all three of us, and get you ready so that when I retire, you’re ready to take the reins. I know you love football, but it’s a distraction. If I retire in five years, that would only give you three years post-graduation to prepare. You’ll need more time.” He starts on the defense before I’ve even managed to get my thoughts on the offense.
I glance at the clock again. I’ve been in here a full hour.
“I can’t. I mean…” I try to blink through the onslaught of thoughts and scenarios that are drowning me. “I have two years left.” Of freedom. I remind him. “Two years left before my life becomes living out of a suitcase and always being on the road. I want this time.”
“I understand, but you need to be ready, and that involves starting now.”
“Dad…” I start, not even sure where I planned for the words to end because right now it seems pointless as I see the sheath of papers he produces from his briefcase, contracts from different universities around England, universities I’d been expected to attend.
“When?” I ask.
“Now. We leave in an hour.”
“Now? I have friends staying at the hotel. My car…”
He waves a hand. “I’ll have Phil arrange flights for them and for someone to get your car and have it shipped back to Miami.”
“Dad, I can’t—”
His look silences me. “I’ve feared you can’t for a very long time. You need to decide here and now, can you do this job or not? It’s that simple.”
“I have to talk to her first. I can’t leave without explaining this to her.”
He clenches his jaw, his frown growing pronounced. Clearly this wasn’t what he’d wanted to
