He huffs. “You expect me to believe that after all dad’s nagging you just instantly fell in love with someone you’ve known for, I don’t know five years? I don’t buy it.”
“You don’t buy what?” I ask.
“This whole fiasco you’ve got going on,” says Charlie. “A girlfriend, sure. But to get married?”
I frown at him. “Why would you have to buy it? There’s nothing to buy, Charlie. She’s my girlfriend, and I want to make her my wife.”
“You weren’t even dating her three months ago,” Charlie says. “And you expect me to believe that you’ve fallen so in love with her, you’re already ready to get hitched?”
“Please,” I say, with a snort. “We both know that Eliza isn’t going to be coming home for Christmas dinner. Maybe don’t act like you’re on a high horse.”
“I’m not,” says Charlie. “That’s the whole point. I brought her with me to have some fun. I’m not fooling anyone. I’m not looking to settle down, and I don’t think that you are, either. You’ve never talked about it before.”
“Maybe I just hadn’t met anyone that I actually liked that much,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You realize that’s a thing, right? People aren’t interested in settling down with random strangers. I’m not just proposing to the first girl I bring home. Something about Ashley is just different. She’s special.”
She is, actually.
There’s something about Ashley that makes me feel comfortable. I know that we aren’t really dating—though I’ll protest that fact to Charlie until my dying breath—but I think we probably would get along great if we were.
Charlie counters, “The only person who’s ever been interested in settling down is dad. You’ve just brought her along to try and prove to him that you can follow orders. You’re just trying to show me up.”
“I’m not trying to show you up, Charlie,” I say. And truly, this whole thing is not about showing Charlie up. I honestly believe I’m the man for the job. I’m older for one, I’ve been working with dad longer for two, and I’m more stable in my life than Charlie is. I’ve devoted everything to Denfield Global. I don’t want to hurt him, but I do believe this position should be mine—it would already be mine if it weren’t for Don’s stupid obsession. But yes, if this is what it takes, I’m willing to do it.
Charlie still isn’t buying it. He tosses back the rest of his beer and then clinks the glass down onto the counter, waving the bartender over for a refill. “I’m just as devoted to this company as you are.”
“I know that.” And it’s true. I do know that he has a great amount of respect for our father, and a great amount of love for the company. And he is on point in the role that he is currently in. It’s the right position for him.
Charlie scowls. He waits until after the bartender finishes refilling his glass before continuing. “The only reason that you brought her here is because you think it’s going to give you a leg up on me.”
“Charlie, you brought your latest hookup. How do you think that’s going to impress anyone?”
“It shouldn’t have to impress anyone,” says Charlie, slapping his hand down on the top of the bar. “My love life doesn’t have jack shit to do with whether I care about the company!”
“Quiet down.” I look around. Thankfully, no one is looking at us. “You don’t want to be making a scene when dad comes back.”
“Maybe I do,” mutters Charlie, but it’s under his breath. He turns to his drink, scowling down into the froth on the top of the beer. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want. To make a big damn scene that gets his attention. Not everyone is looking to have kids. Maybe I just want to run the company, huh? What’s the problem with that?”
The conversation feels eerily similar to the ones that I’ve had with Ashley over the last few days. I think that our little siblings have caught the short end of the stick in both situations. It sucks. Really, it does. In a fair world, Don would pick who took over the CEO position for Denfield Global based on our business merits alone.
But that’s just not how this is going to play out.
And I’m willing to go through the hoops to come out as the winner of this little game— and to alleviate some of my father’s concerns. If Charlie’s not, that’s – well, that’s on him.
I reach out, stretching over the empty bar seat between us, and give my brother a pat on the shoulder. “Look at it this way. It’s just one more competition.”
Charlie, bitterly, says, “Maybe I’m getting tired of that.” And then, “It doesn’t matter. I know that there’s something going on with you two. I’m going to figure it out.”
“Nothing to figure out,” I tell him, with a smile. Standing up, I step around the empty stool and give his shoulder a squeeze. “But speaking of the girls, I’m going to give mine a call.”
“Mhm. Sure you are,” says Charlie, like he thinks I might be going off to do something else instead.
I head outside through the lobby, stepping into the cool night air. Looking back in, it’s easy to find Don standing off to one side of the front foyer, still on the phone. Whoever he’s talking to, it’s got him worked up enough that he’s waving a hand through the air.
For a moment, I think about going back in to check in with him… But instead, I turn and head around the side of the building. The hotel is amazing, but it’s still in the middle of London. Even late at night, the sound of traffic is pervasive.
My conversation with Charlie has rubbed me the wrong way. While many people like to avoid conflict, he seems to thrive on it. He likes making waves wherever he goes, and he’s always been particularly bitter about the fact that our parents look down on the way he lives.
There’s nothing wrong with it. If Charlie wants to have a different girlfriend every week, more power to him. But Don wants a respectable family, and Cheryl wants her sons to hold up our good name—and let’s be honest, they’re both getting older.