“Are you excited Roman?” my mother asked, straightening my tie, as I peered at myself in the mirror.
Nodding with enthusiasm, I stared at my reflection with a mixture of pride and bewilderment. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in a suit or fancy clothes. Growing up as a Cavenaugh, even one as young as me, had its duties.
I laughed internally at the way my hair molded to my head. Mom always had the hardest time with it. She called it her biggest challenge yet as a mother because, no matter how she had it cut or styled, she could never get the crazy strands to bend to her will.
It didn’t help that I was constantly messing it up, running my hands through it before a big test or when Molly Adams smiled at me during art class.
“Well, your brother is just finishing up, so get your shoes on, and I’ll meet you at the front door,” she instructed, giving me a warm smile, before leaving the room.
I did as I was told, double-knotting each loop to make sure I wouldn’t trip.
He might be my father, but I still wanted to make a good impression.
I’d never been invited to his work before. Mom had said it was a big deal.
My future.
I didn’t quite understand what all that meant, but I wanted to make my father proud. So, on a Monday morning, when most kids my age were still in their pajamas, reveling in the teacher workday we had off from school, I was making my way downtown to a high-rise that had my name written on the side.
Jude, my annoying little brother, was bouncing in the backseat, rattling off facts about Dad and his work. I couldn’t understand half of what he said—constantly rattling off things most high schoolers would scratch their heads at. Jude was some sort of prodigy with numbers, and my parents were already tutoring him to hone that talent.
It just made him all the more irritating.
My mother had stayed behind at home, stating that this was a day for the men of the family, leaving us in the trusted care of our longtime driver, Ed.
We pulled up to the curb of Cavenaugh Investments. I had to admit, I was a little disappointed not to find my father waiting for us, but I guessed he was a busy guy. Ed walked us in through the glass doors, and I took a brief glance around.
I’d been in the lobby dozens of times. I’d just never made it much further than that.
Today though, I would be taking the private elevator all the way to the top.
I felt like a superstar.
My father’s assistant fetched us from the lobby, thanking Ed for delivering us.
“Did you know, only three people in the entire building know this code?” Jude said proudly as we entered the elevator. “It goes directly to Daddy’s office. The rest of the executive offices are on that floor, but they have to use the regular elevator and can only access Daddy’s office by appointment or permission.”
“Shut up, Jude,” I said. I smiled awkwardly at the pretty woman.
“He’s right, you know,” she said with a quick wink.
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed.
He was always right.
The elevator zoomed to the top, and before I knew it, the doors were opening, and we were standing in the waiting area outside my father’s office. His assistant’s desk was to the right, and a large seating area was to the left. I took a step toward the large wooden door that led to my father but was stopped.
“It looks like your father is stuck in a meeting. How about I show you around the executive floor? Maybe take you to the fancy break room for some snacks?” She waggled her eyebrows at us, making Jude jump up and down.
I was so not impressed.
I wanted to see my dad, not sit around eating snacks—I could do that at home. But I followed the perky young woman anyway, looking back at my father’s office. It didn’t take long for us to make it to the break room, but unfortunately for our host, all the doughnuts had been devoured.
“Well, let’s see…” she said. Clearly panicking, she started going through cupboards and drawers.
I used her moment of distraction to my advantage, and I grabbed her keys off the counter and slipped out the door. I’d come here to learn… to impress my father. And that was what I was going to do.
Walking back, I easily let myself into my father’s office, thanks to the keys the dopey woman had left unattended, and I was once again standing at the large door.
His meeting must have just ended because the door was slightly open. I lifted my hands to the door to push it open and stopped.
“They should be here any minute,” he said, clearly talking to someone on the phone.
He laughed, and I heard the squeak of a chair. I took a step back.
“Thank God for Jude. That poor boy, Roman, doesn’t have a lick of sense in him. He’s a sweet kid — and he definitely got my good looks,” he chuckled, briefly before continuing. “He’s cute, but dumb. If it wasn’t for Jude, I’d be worried sick for the future of this place. Roman would run it into the ground.”
My heart plummeted as he laughed again.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
Taking another step backward, I kept going until I felt the cold touch of the elevator at my back.
“Cute, but dumb.”
My father thought I was an idiot.
My hands clenched tightly to the keys, still in my hands as anger grew in my heart.
And it never stopped.