Jensen
More and more, I hated to leave the warmth of Ireland’s body every weekday, or most, to venture across the bridge to our corporate office—I played hooky when I could. Knowing she was working from home, I found myself trying to arrange things so I could do the same. Realistically, it was not a good idea for business as I would have a hard time focusing with her scent, touch, taste within a few steps. Accessibility to ravaging her lips, skin…her beautiful face smiling would put a stop to any sensible thoughts or productivity. Well, not completely true—we would both be physically satisfied with bright as fuck grins gleaming proudly on our faces.
One afternoon in particular had me wishing that I was home playing office with my beautiful chestnut-haired beauty. I had put off telling my parents that I had arranged things for myself while off on my conference trip and that their old marital arrangements were null and void. Stepping into my father’s perfectly decorated private office with Novak in tow, I launched right in with my recap of the Vegas trip. The highlight of the week was less than appealing to my father.
“I can’t believe that you did this to us. Rebelling against your family has never been your style. Being wild and running around with women, yes.” I watched my father lean forward in his brown leather chair and put his elbows on his dark wood antique desk that blended in with everything in the room, and fist his hands under his chin. Obviously not thrilled with my news, a slumped, unhappy expression filled his face and repeated in his body language.
“A family trait I got from you, finally acted on it.” I said directly to my father. “You have to admit that it paid off for you. Your old-world money bloodlines wanted you to continue in the family business, but you had other plans.” It was my attempt to get him to look on the bright side of the situation. “Look at you now.”
He couldn’t deny that fact since I had heard the story my whole life. His family had made their fortune with other people’s money—legitimately and not—first with bootlegging and then opening a small bank for people to invest their corrupt money. I always thought the beginning of their bank sounded more like a money laundering establishment, but my grandfather insisted that it was not. My father wanted nothing to do with the banking industry. He had been a natural athlete from the minute he could walk and swing a bat—he continued to play baseball all the way into the minor leagues until an injury ended his career. Never hitting the big show, he had the bright idea of selling the bank to investors and buying a sporting goods company. “I may not be able to swing a bat, but I sure as hell can pitch my equipment to other players and stay in the game.” Famous words of Pax Callum that, no doubt, would be on his tombstone or somewhere prominent one day. Part of his speech was already used in all of our marketing: “Stay in the Game” was visibly linked with our company name.
“Your family is proud of you…at what you accomplished. I’m ready to do the same. You wanted me to be a responsible, married man to run the new division…I complied with that wish and even sooner than you asked.”
“You’re missing an essential part of the deal; you were to marry the daughter of the company that you will be using to make connections. How do we tell them that you already have a wife? We look like liars and cheats since we have already finalized the paperwork.”
It was at that point in our conversation that I realized that my mother had strolled in and had no problem voicing her own worries and concerns.
“They sold their family home and purchased an apartment here… I even had them contact my decorator.” My mother set her purse down on a coffee table, plopped down in front of it, and brought out her appointment book. “And don’t forget the wedding of the year; we have paid for caterers, a venue, flowers, and I even set up an appointment for mother and daughter to join me for the dress—” My mother’s voice trailed off as my father gruffly interrupted with what sounded like a long list of things I fucked up that I tuned out until he took a breath to state his finishing remarks.
“Thank God we insisted on paying for it—at least they will not be losing money there.” My father was up out of his chair and moving to the kitchenette-mini-bar in his office. Reaching for a decanter filled with amber liquor, I was sure that he was not thinking about giving a toast—more like stilling his nerves.
“Besides the wedding—” Which did not have to go entirely to waste as I had an idea, but I skipped right over bringing that up at the moment. “Why should things change? I am willing and prepared to do the same things the new position entails… just without marrying into their family.”
Silence mixed with wariness on my father’s face greeted me and I, instantly, got the feeling that there was more to the arrangement than they were telling me. Certainly, not marrying the daughter couldn’t be a deal breaker. It wasn’t like we were living in medieval times where it was necessary to join kingdoms to rule the vast land. I had no plans of being king of the iron throne. I laughed to myself thinking that I had watched far too many episodes about slaying men and dragons while fearing the dead people threatening to wipe everyone out.
“What are you laughing about, Jensen Michael Callum?” Hearing my full name on my mother’s painted lips meant I was in trouble—I hadn’t meant to laugh out loud.
Novak—ever the diplomat—who had been sitting back, doodling on a legal pad, finally spoke up. “Jensen is married and that was a major factor. It was time for him to step up and leave his old life of cavorting around town with different women draped on his arm. He has done exactly what had been discussed before we began to develop the extension into the foreign market. Exhibit responsibility. Become a family man—”
“What? Wait! We discussed marriage not a family.” I needed a strong drink.
“Your father and I let that part slip.” Novak laughed. “One step at a time for you, my friend.” If I would’ve been wearing a tie, I would’ve been reaching up to loosen it. The air was escaping the room, I was suffocating, and they had me wondering what else I had missed out on when they met without me. It also made me understand why Novak seemed so agitated with my Vegas wedding.
“There’s a portion I never brought to the table.” My father moved across the room and joined my mother on a rustic leather couch, patted her knee, and kissed her cheek. Novak and I turned our chairs to face them and waited for the man in charge to come clean about the whole deal. “I was about to move in for the kill on a major deal of the century…about to lowball the owner of the agency when he spoke up and complained about how he was being treated. Everyone was attempting to screw him out of his family-owned company. He went on to tell me some personal matters which I will not repeat to anyone. Then he mentioned how things were handled between kingdoms in the old days to conquer lands—marriage…heirs.”
“Your father said a lightbulb went off in his head at the same time that the other man brought up his daughter. But he didn’t say a word until the man mentioned that it was too bad that your father didn’t have a son willing to marry his daughter—”
My father cut my mother off to finish the story. “—that is about the way it went between us and then I brought in Novak to discuss the details of the international merger and the legalities of it. We just needed you on board with the new division and your new life as a married family man to ultimately complete the package deal.”
“There is not a clause about the family part,” Novak chimed in quickly. “The father of the bride-to-be mentioned a male heir to continue his legacy. It’s a very old company going back several generations—always with a male heir at the helm.”
Of course it is nice to keep a family-owned company going, but seriously, male heirs only? We were in modern times where females were perfectly capable of running corporations. Had they forgotten that even in the olden days, there were queens as well as kings? Not to mention, what if his daughter and I didn’t produce a male heir for his company? What the hell was I even thinking? I was never going to provide any type of heir for the owner of the company ever as I was never going to procreate with his daughter or any other woman…other than Ireland.
Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for the day to end so that I could hop in a hired car and head back into the arms of my gorgeous wife. I just hoped that my father and Novak could somehow figure things out so that I did not have to give up the only woman that I had ever wanted to see morning, noon, and night. No! That was not even an option and I had to stop letting the guilt slip into my brain. There would be another solution—there had to be.