Maria

 

“You know, it would only take one phone call to get your dad in trouble,” Elissa said as I pulled into the dirt lot where my father’s construction crew was working on a new project. It was going to be yet another new office suite.

 

I groaned. “I know. I don’t want to shut him down, though. I just don’t want to be around when he does get shut down one day.”

 

I was glad my father’s business was booming with all the new office suites he was putting up around town, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the companies he contracted for were shell companies covering up money laundering. There were just too many pop-up businesses that didn’t seem to hang around for very long.

 

“You know, Maria, I’ve got a room if you need it, and you won’t have to pay rent or anything if you come stay with me, not until you get on your feet.” Elissa had always been helpful. She had always offered me the shirt off her back as long as I had known her.

 

“No, that’s fine. Thank you, though,” I said, declining her offer even though I was considering it. I had been thinking about quitting my father’s company for a long time. I didn’t like the company he kept, the people he employed. He hired illegals, thugs, ex-cons, and even a few bikers. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to give his employees a chance to live honestly or if he was trying to see how long it took for something to go wrong at one of his jobsites, or – and this last one crossed my mind on many occasions – if he was trying to keep an eye on them for someone else. My father had some questionable connections.

 

“I’m serious now. Get out before his whole operation implodes. You never belonged there anyway. You’ve been talking about becoming a nurse since we were in high school. Seriously, get out, get into school, and come stay with me while you study,” Elissa insisted.

 

It was a tempting idea. If I stayed with my father’s company, I was going to end up taking it over one day, and if I did that, my chances of getting into nursing were going to be severely diminished unless I did something crazy like sell the company.

 

“Oh, gross,” I said as I pulled alongside the fence surrounding the site.

 

“What? What is it?” Elissa asked.

 

“It’s that biker who is always looking at me. Mickey.” Mickey was a member of one of the local motorcycle “clubs.” He was a pretty boy despite his leather vest with his patches all over it and the bold black tattoos on his arms. He always wore sleeveless shirts under his vest, showing off the matching tribal ink on his impressive shoulders and biceps. He would have been hot if he weren’t always just checking me out instead of approaching me, and if he weren’t some lowlife biker. Hell, if he had the courage to talk to me, I probably would have overlooked his rough biker thug exterior.

 

He had beautiful brown eyes and golden brown hair that he wore slicked back, like he was trying to grow it out or something. He was a hard worker, but he always managed to stay clean. His chest bulged out of his shirts. His lean body was a testament to how hard he worked for my father and how hard he worked for himself when he wasn’t on the jobsite. There was something almost tragic and pouty in his face.

 

But he was always leering at me.

 

“Tell your father,” Elissa suggested. “Maybe he’ll fire his ass.”

 

I scoffed. “Not likely. He’ll probably just tell me to grow a thicker skin since I’m going to be taking this company over from him one day. In his mind, a boss doesn’t let stuff like that bother her.” I rolled my eyes, as if Elissa could see me through the phone.

 

“Well, I mean, you’ve got to do something,” she insisted.

 

I watched Mickey. He was walking down the steps from my father’s office, keeping his eyes leveled eerily at me. Our gazes locked on each other. I could tell he saw me looking at him.

 

“I think I know what I’m going to do,” I said absently, still watching the biker walk away. A plan was coming together in my head.

 

“Well, if you need me, give me a call,” Elissa told me.

 

“I will.” I was thinking I was probably going to be calling her on the way out of my father’s office in just a few minutes. I knew what I was about to do probably wasn’t going to go over well, but I had to stick to my guns.

 

“Good luck, Maria.”

 

“Thanks, Elissa. Talk to you soon.” I hung up and stashed my phone in my purse. I looked at the squat trailer sitting on the jobsite. My father was sitting in that trailer getting ready to start his day. His employees were starting to show up, trickling into work a few at a time.

 

Hopefully, having only a few workers there meant I wasn’t going to cause a scene when I walked into my father’s office to tell him what I had decided to do with my life. Between Elissa telling me, yet again, she had my back if I quit and that creep Mickey blatantly checking me out as I pulled in, parked, and got out of my car, my mind was made up. There was no question about it. I was done.

 

I took the steps to the single door of the trailer. I grabbed the flimsy doorknob and gently opened the door to walk in. It always felt like it was ready to just come off. The cool air of the window unit on the back side of the office greeted me and welcomed me to work.

 

“Good morning, dear,” my father said in the chipper tone he usually used with me. I figured it could have been much worse. He could have talked to me the way he talked to his employees. He was always gruff and firm with them.

 

“Morning, Dad,” I said, pulling the door closed behind me.

 

“Everything okay?” He looked up from the newspaper he had opened on his desk.

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” As I approached his desk and pulled a chair over to sit down in front of him, he folded the paper back up and set it aside.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked with a concerned tone on his voice.

 

My father looked like a connected man, the more I thought about it. He always wore flashy shirts and jewelry to work. He wore his dark hair slicked back, making him look like a character in a movie or TV show. He looked smug and incredibly comfortable in his skin, like he didn’t have a care in the world, and maybe he didn’t. Maybe he had the world in the palm of his hand. Maybe the stories I’d heard about my father over the years were true, and he really was connected to the mob somehow.

 

“I need to talk to you, Dad,” I started, trying to build up the courage to say what needed to be said. It was too easy to back down from him. No matter how nice he could be, there always seemed to be something lurking just behind even his kindest smile.

 

“Sure. What’s on your mind?” He clasped his hands on his desk and leaned forward, encouraging me to go ahead and spit it out, despite the nerves balling up in my stomach, trying to prevent me from talking to him.

 

“I’ve been doing some thinking.”

 

“What about?” he asked.

 

Okay, I felt like what I was saying should have been obvious. Then again, I had been walking around with it all bouncing around in my head and weighing on my heart for as long as I’d been working with him. On top of wanting to pursue my dream, I really wasn’t comfortable working for him anymore, not with everything I had heard and the stuff I was starting to realize for myself. He either didn’t realize what I was about to say, or he was trying to drag it out of me.

 

“You know how I’ve always wanted to be a nurse?” I asked.

 

“You’ve mentioned it, but I thought we agreed you were going to take over the business,” he said, adopting the smooth, sweet tone he always used when he was trying to convince me I didn’t have a choice without saying as much.

 

“I’m quitting,” I told him plainly.

 

“I’m sorry. Try that again.” His tone faltered, as if I’d just blindsided him and he hadn’t had the time to keep up the friendly charade.

 

“I’m quitting. I can’t work for you anymore. I’m going to take the money I have saved up and apply for school so I can study nursing,” I told him. I had no idea how the words were flowing so easily, but, with each one, I felt a surge of confidence and pride in my chest.

 

“Like hell you are.” There he was – the man who sat behind my father’s desk and talked to his employees like they were garbage.

 

I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t up for debate.

 

“You’re supposed to take this business over from me. This is supposed to be my legacy for you,” he protested, sitting back and talking animatedly with his hands.

 

“I don’t want to take the business over,” I snapped. “I’ve never wanted to take your business over. You decided that. It was never my plan. It has always been yours.”

 

“But why wouldn’t you want this? I’ve already done all the hard work for you. All you have to do is come in and make sure everything runs smoothly day to day. I mean, this is a finely tuned, well-oiled machine here, Maria. I’ve built this for you.”

 

Then, it occurred to me to go for the gold and finally tell him exactly what I thought about his business. I could see the damage was already done. “I’ll tell you why I don’t want to take this business over. I know you’re connected to the mob. I know you’ve got a few guys on the payroll for them. That’s the oil that keeps this machine of yours so finely tuned. You’ve also got illegals who aren’t on the books. I assume you’re paying them under the table. And you’ve got members of different criminal organizations and motorcycle clubs working for you, like the mob has you keeping tabs on these people.”

 

He took a deep breath, letting the allegations sink in. “I’m building this business for you,” he repeated himself, skirting my accusations. “I don’t want you to have to work hard. I want you to continue to have it easy, just like you always have.”

 

“Fine. I’ll tell you what. Let me take over this business. All I’m going to do is sell it to the highest bidder and put that money towards school. How’s that for your legacy?” I spat the last question out at him.

 

I had never planned on taking over, much less selling the company, but I was on a roll and decided to stand by my words, no matter how heated they were. I probably wouldn’t have threatened to sell the company if we could have maintained a respectful conversation, but I wasn’t going to allow him to talk to me the way he did his other employees. I wasn’t the garbage he hired off the street. And, furthermore, it really wasn’t a bad idea.

 

His face turned dark red, almost purple, with anger, but he sat quietly, staring at me with rage in his eyes. I had never seen him get so angry before. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, and he spoke slowly, as if each word had been chosen carefully. “If you don’t want to be part of the family business, I understand. Just get out of my office, go home, and pack your things. You are no longer allowed in my house. And you are no longer a part of this family.” He didn’t move as he spoke to me.

 

Each word hit like a fist to my gut. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I had expected him to be angry. Hell, I had been prepared to have to move so I didn’t have to face his disappointment and anger every day. But I hadn’t expected him to kick me out of the house and tell me he was going to disown me. That hurt. Despite all of his flaws, he was still my father, and he’d just turned his back on me.

 

“I’ll have one of my associates assist you on packing and removing yourself from the property,” he added, not changing his flat, even tone.

 

Tears welled up in my eyes. He was serious. This was happening to me. I looked at him and blinked dumbly. I wiped my eyes and tried to fight back the sobs.

 

“Is that all?” he asked, as if I had been just another employee coming in to voice a complaint.

 

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir,” I managed to say. He was no longer my father. He was just my former employer.

 

“I’ll have someone meet you at the house, then. Good luck.” He made a show of noisily opening his newspaper and returning to whatever he’d been reading when I first entered his office. If he had been affected by anything that had just happened between us, he wasn’t showing it.

 

I got up quietly, trying not to break down into a pathetic, sobbing mess in front of him, and walked back to the door. I paused as I touched the doorknob and looked back to see if there was any sign of a reaction in his expression.

 

Nothing. He just sat reading the paper with his eyebrows raised as if he were just waiting on me to leave.

 

I opened the door, for the last time, and as I stepped out of the cool air of the office, it hit me. I wasn’t just walking away from the shitty job with his shady company. I was walking away from him, from my father.

 

It was all I could do not to double over as the sobs racked my body. I slammed the door shut behind me and hurried down the stairs, then across the dirt lot to where I had parked my car along the fence.