Doing It
(Darcy)
I stare at the email, again, to give myself resolve. Since I officially accepted the offer from Elite Exhibitions two days ago, I’ve been staring at the offer letter a lot.
CEO of Elite Exhibitions with a big fucking paycheck to match.
It’s the type of role I’d never dared dream about, but have always hoped for. And I know I can do it and do it well.
Since Paris, I’ve spent weeks of interviewing with Elite Exhibitions. They may have approached me, but they certainly made me prove myself to them.
And now I’ve had two sleepless nights filled with a mix of excitement and dread of what will happen with my father.
How will he react? Am I about to destroy our relationship forever? Will I regret accepting the role?
Until now, it’s all been academic.
It’s time to get real.
I switch off my screen and shove my phone into my purse. My resignation letter is on my desk, signed and neatly folded inside a windowless envelope. My heart pounds against my ribs as I pick it up.
This is the moment of no return, my father is waiting for me in his office, expecting a strategy meeting and about to get kicked in the teeth. Betrayed by his daughter in a very public way.
I feel like I’m going to puke.
Standing in front of my desk with the letter in one hand, I pull my phone back out and read the last text from Liam.
You can do this
He’s been incredibly supportive of me the whole way through the interviews. During which my father has become less and less supportive at work. Over the past month, he’s become more and more eager to blame everything on me. He still hasn’t forgiven me for us not buying the chocolate exhibition.
At least he’s in talks to purchase the interior design show in Paris. Except he’s lowballing them, proving once again he’s a dinosaur who doesn’t understand the current market.
Okay, I can do this. I toss my phone on my desk and stride out of my office. My dad’s office door is open, and I walk in and shut the door with more confidence than I’m feeling on the inside.
“You’re three minutes late for the meeting,” he says.
“Just working up the courage,” I say, and slide the letter in front of him.
“What’s this?” He asks, his eyes narrowing as he picks up the letter.
I don’t say anything, instead I stay standing and watch his eyes move over the paper. They move up and down it, reading it over and over again. The air becomes heavy and stale, and I clear my throat just to make something happen.
“You’re quitting?”
“Yes,” I say, surprisingly confident.
“To go to Elite Exhibitions, my biggest competitor?”
“Yes.”
He yanks his heavy framed reading glasses off his face and chucks them on his desk. I brace for the eruption.
“How could you do this to me? Your own father? After everything I’ve ever done for you. I made you, Darcy. Made you. You’d be nothing without me, and now you’re stabbing me in the back like this? Me, your father.” His voice changes from yelling to introspection. “Whatever happened to my little girl? The one who used to sit on my lap while we watched movies and ate popcorn? How could you do this to me? And to Elite Exhibitions, of all places? I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this…”
Unwilling to listen to anymore, I interrupt with my prepared speech. Forcing my voice to stay calm, I say, “Dad, I’ve been unappreciated and your whipping girl for too long. I’m not prepared to do it any longer. I’m going to a place that will appreciate my ability, and you should be happy for me. You should be proud of me.”
“You didn’t even give me any warning. Why didn’t you ever say anything? I could’ve changed things for you. I’d do anything to make you happy,” he says, his voice seething.
“I think it’s best I go now. I’ve already packed up my things.”
I turn and head for the door.
“I suppose you’re thinking you’re going to go there and give them all my secrets,” he says with a raised voice.
I turn back to face him, my eyes wild with rage, “There’s no point, your secrets suck. I’m going to take Elite Exhibitions into the future, not try to relive the past.”
My father lets out a great bellow, no words, just a loud noise of emotion, anger but also pain. I flee his office, grab my purse and phone from my office and hurry out the building.
Without waiting for Chase, I jump in a cab and head straight for Liam’s palatial home. My heart is still pounding and my stomach churns.
On autopilot, I move between the cab, through Liam’s building and up to his penthouse. He opens the door and I stare at him, my face as zombie-like as the rest of me.
Liam opens his arms and I fall into his embrace. His touch is soothing and warm. Chase rushes through Liam’s door a moment later, nods at Liam, and disappears off into the apartment, presumably to the staff area.
It was hardly shocking that my father didn’t take the news well, but I’d expected it to be all about business. Not that us cuddling and watching movies when I was a kid would be one of the first things he brought up. I’ve hurt him, bad.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Liam says after I tell him the whole story.
“You should’ve heard the noise he made. It was like someone had just shot him. No, it was worse than that. It was pure anguish.”
“It was because he wasn’t in control of you, for once.”
“Probably,” I say, and sigh. Something my father said has been weighing heavily on me. Why didn’t I give him any indication that I was so unhappy? Why didn’t I have the guts to stand up to him?
Would he have changed things if I had?
Liam draws me close and holds me tight while my mind turns things over.
“I think I made a mistake,” I say in a quiet voice.
“What? No. No, you didn’t. Don’t even begin to go there.”
“But I owed him more. I should’ve told him I wasn’t happy before just up and quitting on him.”
“You’ve never told him you weren’t happy? Not in all those arguments the two of you had about business decisions?” He says, his voice full of sarcasm.
“Fine, yes. But always when we were arguing, never in a calm, grown-up way.”
“Stop trying to put the blame on yourself. You’re going to love your new job, I guarantee it.”
I look up at him and manage a weak smile. Maybe he’s right. I’ve churned this decision over for weeks, I just need to follow through now. But I need to know I haven’t lost my dad as well as my boss.
“I’m going to text him,” I say.
Liam drops his hands to his sides and he says, “Do whatever you need to do.”
I dig my phone out of my purse and type a message to my father.
Sorry, Dad. I hope you’ve time to understand my decision
I hit send then quickly type him another message.
And that you’re proud of me for becoming CEO of a global company
A second later, my phone rings. It’s him. Still feeling shaky, I can’t decide whether to answer it or not. Liam shoots a look at me and takes the phone from my hand. He hits reject call.
The phone rings again, and again he hits reject call. This time, my father leaves a voicemail.
I take my phone back from Liam to listen to the message.
My father’s voice is frantic. “As if I thought you couldn’t do anything worse to me than you already have. How could you, Darcy? How could you turn on your flesh and blood like this? I never realized how cold and heartless you are.” My brow knits as I try to figure out what he’s talking about.
Unable to stop myself, I hit callback.
“You’re no longer anyone or anything to me,” he says as he answers.
My eyes shoot wide open and I bend slightly, his words a punch in the gut.
“Dad?”
“Don’t you dad me,” he snaps.
“What was your message about?”
He bursts out in maniacal laughter, “As if you don’t know?”
“I don’t. Tell me.” My voice is firm.
“Elite Exhibitions just announced their purchase of the interior design show in Paris. And you were obviously behind it.”