It’s not an accusation. More of a realization of how we grew up in such different environments. She grew up in a family where there was financial debt but lots of love; I was in one where there was enough money for ten lifetimes but I never got a single hug.
“Yes, but I can’t do anything about it. I can’t use that money.”
She gazes at me, looking for an answer. My eyes fall to her slightly parted lips, and for a moment, I forget all my problems, worries, stomach pain, and sleepless nights. With that cherry-colored lip gloss, they’re so tempting I want to taste them.
When I look up and meet her gaze again, I know I can’t avoid an explanation. “My father and grandfather cut me off from the family wealth. The money is there, but I can’t use it unless I go back to work for their corporation. It’s a trust fund stipulation for getting my hands on any of that money. Otherwise, my father’s name stays on the account with mine, and I can’t access it.”
“Work for the broadcasting company?”
I nod, but I can’t open my mouth. The mere thought leaves a rancid taste on my tongue that I can’t swallow.
“Why did you leave? Couldn’t you stay until they allowed you to access your trust fund and then change jobs?”
Her solution sounds so simple it’s almost disarming.
“I don’t like the work, for one thing. My brother Aaron has always been successful in that career. But that’s not the only reason I burned bridges. I never got along with my father, and when I turned eighteen, I couldn’t wait to move on and have nothing to do with him.”
The truth is, I would have run away even earlier if I could. Aaron has always managed to play my old man’s slimy games, but I would have killed him with my own hands if I had stayed even a minute longer.
“And how much is this figure? Because if you’ve been up all night, it must be worth worrying over.”
I approach the table and inhale her familiar scent of incense and patchouli, pointing my finger at the figure, and when she grasps my arm for support, I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her body close to feel her warmth.
“Okay. I need a pencil.” She reaches out to grab it, her soft breast brushing against my arm, and I suddenly find it very difficult to remember she’s a colleague. But I can’t afford to cross lines here. “How many zeros are there? Did you really give up all this money?” She looks at me like I’m crazy.
It’s hard to explain how much I hate my father and my family. “It’s just money.” My soul is not for sale, not even for that amount.
“There’s enough here to buy the record company yourself,” she says incredulously.
“That’s the idea…or, at least, I wish I could use it to release the Jailbirds and Red Velvet Curtains from this nightmare. But to do that, I have to convince my father to give me the money. There are no other loopholes in that contract. Trust me, I’ve considered them all.”
Emily crosses her arms over her chest and studies me carefully, nailing me with her gaze, and I almost struggle to breathe. She’s the only one who ponders what I say long enough to question it. People usually accept my every suggestion without a word, but not her.
“You know I have to be the voice of reason here, right? Isn’t it better to talk to your friends first instead of embarking on this crusade alone? You don’t even know what they have to say about all of this.” Her voice is calm, not judging or scolding. She’s presenting me with logic I’ve already considered dozens of times in the last few hours. I want to at least try it before I throw in the towel.
“I made a mistake when I signed the Jailbirds’ contract,” I confess, leaning on the table and feeling empty. “I gave up all the album rights to the record company. It was a huge and appalling error, a complete amateur move. I know I should tell them about it, but honestly, I’d like to solve the damage I created without causing them more loss. They’re my friends, I was an idiot, and I jeopardized their lives and careers.” I have never told anyone this story I’m so ashamed of, and I don’t even know if the Jailbirds are aware of it. Those arguments came up when they left the old label.
Emily’s face softens, and when she puts a hand on my shoulder, all my tension slips away. It’s strange how I’ve been here alone despairing the whole night, and just her presence is enough to stop the world that has been swirling around me recently. I shouldn’t get used to this feeling of stability she brings, but I’m tired of fighting what I feel when I’m close to her. I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel attracted to her toned body, sensual lips, and intelligent mind. She’s the complete package: beautiful, sexy, fun, and bright. I’d have to be crazy not to want to spend every minute in her company.
“They love you, Evan. There’s nothing they wouldn’t forgive, and besides, they read that contract and signed it. You can’t keep feeling guilty about it.”
Yet, that’s exactly what’s happening. I can’t shake that it’s my fault and my responsibility to do something to fix it. That’s the difference between Aaron or my father, and me. I put my heart into everything I do. They’re just cold calculators.
I see how my brother hates the way my father runs the company, but he continues to stay there, seek his approval, and earn the favor and pats on the back my old man will never give me. He’s the perfect son my father always wanted. I’m just the one he’s ashamed of.
“I know, but let me try to talk to my old man before following your advice. Give me time to go to Los Angeles and give it a shot. When I come back, I’ll listen to any and all suggestions. If I catch a flight early this afternoon, I can take advantage of the three-hour time difference and be there for dinner tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t even think about it! I need you here to run the record company.” I don’t want her in the same city as my father. The thought of him even laying eyes on her makes my skin crawl.
“Evan, two weeks ago, you vomited in an alley. Last night, you sat awake in that chair for hours barely noticing anything. When was the last time you ate? Slept? Or just went to the bathroom? You’ve reached a breaking point, and I won’t let you go there alone. Even if the only thing I can do is pick up the pieces after meeting your father. I get the feeling this meeting won’t be a pleasant walk down memory lane. You don’t want to tell your friends anything about what you’re doing? Fine, but I won’t let you deal with it alone.”
Her words hit home; as much as I don’t want to involve anyone, I’m afraid I’ll explode and need someone I can count on when I’m there. Knowing I have her by my side gives me a sense of peace and so I give in.
“Okay, but I don’t want you near my father for any reason. You can’t come to the meeting. This is not negotiable.”
Emily rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against mine. “Okay! But he’s only a father, I’ve never had one, but I’ve dealt with many of them. In the end, they’re all the same: just men with their strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes more flaws than good points, but they don’t bite your head off.”