He shook his head, dropping to the bench at the foot of his bed. “I know it sounds crazy, but every Langford man before me has been a self-made man. My dad. My grandfather. My great-grandfather. I can’t stand the thought of not doing the same thing, blazing my own trail. I want something that I built myself, from the ground up. Is that so wrong?”
She smirked. “Adam, you said it yourself. You made your first million out of your dorm room. You’re already a self-made man. Check that off your list and move on to the next big challenge. I have no doubt that you’ll kick some serious butt running LangTel. With your mind for technology, you could do some incredibly innovative things.”
“You’re sweet, but it’s not quite as simple as that. At least not for me it isn’t.”
“But haven’t you and your dad been talking about this since you were a little boy?”
Indeed, Adam had been made keenly aware of what had been preordained for him. One of his most vivid childhood memories was of the day his dad brought him into LangTel on a Saturday afternoon, sat him down in the big leather executive chair in his father’s corner office. Adam was seven. His dad had talked about things Adam didn’t fully understand, told him that the chair and the desk and the whole damn thing would be his one day.
That day was fast approaching and Adam wanted nothing more than to slam on the brakes and make this runaway train come to a complete stop. The future his dad wanted for him wasn’t what he wanted for himself.
“Yes, people have been talking about it since I can remember. In the end, I just can’t say no to him, especially now that he’s dying. If I’d been smart, I’d have said something about this years ago. I just didn’t think I’d be confronted with it until he was ready to retire, and I always figured there was a chance I might feel differently by then.”
Melanie’s eyes grew wide. She hopped forward to the edge of her seat. “But Anna. She wants to do it. She told me when we met about planning the gala. Adam, that’s it. It’s perfect.”
Adam smiled wide. She was so adorable, wanting to help, wanting to fix things for him and for his sister. Hell, she wanted to fix things for the entire Langford family. “Our dad refuses to entertain the subject. He’s so old-fashioned, it’s ridiculous.”
Melanie appeared crestfallen. “Damn. I figured sibling rivalry was the bigger issue.” She sighed deeply, their eyes connected, and he sank into them as if they were the only respite he would ever want. “Oh my God, Adam. The scandal. That was your out.” She rubbed her temple, seeming even more concerned than she’d been a minute ago. “You could’ve said no to the PR campaign and just let the board of directors force you out. It would’ve solved everything.”
He almost wanted to laugh. He’d considered that, but then his dad had hired a public relations whiz named Melanie Costello. The moment he saw her picture on her company’s website, his heart had wormed its way into his throat. He finally knew the identity of his Cinderella. So he’d sucked it up and agreed to the PR campaign, even though it would likely seal his fate. He had to see his mystery woman again, see if the lightning in a bottle was real. And it was. It just wasn’t meant to last.
He couldn’t tell her that now—she’d moved on. He had no choice but to accept it. “I thought about that. But it would’ve made a mess of the family name, and that would have been no way to say goodbye my dad. It really wouldn’t have solved everything, but it might have fixed that one problem.” He couldn’t have lived with himself if he’d taken that route anyway. It would’ve destroyed his relationship with his dad. Luckily, Melanie had saved him from making that choice. She just didn’t know it.
“You know, the day I met with Anna, I felt a little jealous of your family,” Melanie said.
“It’s not all wine and roses, believe me.”
“I know that, but you’re still close, you really care about each other. I just don’t have that. My sisters think I’m an oddball, my dad is impossible, and my mom is— Well, I never really knew her.” She shook her head. “I know your relationship with your dad is tumultuous, but at least you have him. He’s still here. You can still talk to him. You just have to find a way to get him to understand. You won’t feel right about things if he passes away and you haven’t tried one more time.”
He’d tried and failed at it more times in the past few months than he could remember. Was that even possible? “How ironic is it that my dad and I are so close and he’s the one person I never push to see my side of things? The idea of letting him down is still unfathomable.”