Chapter 2

Mariah

 

“What?!” is all I can manage at first.

“Honey. You know how your mom and I used to say we wanted to give you a brother someday? Well, that went out the window when she took off on me, so I’ve moved on to the next best possibility: a son-in-law. And look, this will be good for you too! You always tell me that you're too busy to date! First it was school, now it’s work - and if I know you, you won’t slow down unless I give you a reason to. And that reason is Charles.”

“I don’t - I don’t even know Charles! You just waltzed in here with him twenty minutes ago, and now you’re ready to marry me off?”

“I want the business to be in the best possible hands. Charles has experience, he has smarts, he has dedication - ”

“I have all those things too! And I’m your daughter!”

“Mariah. Do not raise your voice to me.” My dad’s eyes glint with that steely look that used to terrify me when I was younger. It either meant someone at the company was getting fired, or I’d done something that was very, very much against the rules in our house.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is my tone upsetting you? Well, I’m upset too, Dad!”

“Why, sweetie? This is a great - ”

“It’s not great! None of this is! I thought we were having dinner here tonight so that you could tell me that you wanted me to take over the business!”

“You?” Dad looks genuinely taken aback. “What on earth would make you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I spent my whole life following you around, idolizing you, learning from you? I got a degree in business because it’s what you did, and I got it from the same school you went to! I work in your office! How much clearer could it possibly be that I’m the best person for the job?!”

“But, Mariah. You’re only twenty-one. And you’re my daughter.”

The way he says daughter, like it’s a bad taste on his tongue, twists my stomach into knots. I can feel the hot prickling behind my eyes that means I’m going to start crying. I hate that. My dad’s the only person on the planet who can get this kind of reaction out of me, and he’s the last person I want to be reduced to a blubbering mess in front of.

“So, what? And you want to pass me off to this guy? What, so you can just get rid of me?”

I’m standing now, trying to ignore the surreptitious stares from other diners. I see the host-guy hovering anxiously in front of his little podium, probably trying to decide if getting in the middle of this is a good idea or not. He will probably feel obliged to kick me out soon, if I don’t settle down and stop causing such a ruckus in front of the other patrons.

“Mariah, don’t embarrass me.” Now Dad’s standing too.

“It’s all right, Mr. Huston,” Charles says. “Your daughter’s feisty. I don’t mind that.” His look is close to a leer. I feel my lip curling in disgust.

Dad tries to gently take my arm and guide me back into my seat, but I brush him off. He meets my eyes and says, “Charles is a good businessman. I want him to be part of the family.”

“Well, if you love him so much, you marry him!” Even as I say it, I know how childish it sounds, but I can’t help it. This whole thing has suddenly become such a goddamn mess, and I’m about to burst into tears. I can’t let him see that. Through gritted teeth, I manage, “I have to leave.”

“Mariah Ellen Huston, you will sit back down at this table right now.” For the first time ever, that angry brooks-no-argument father tone that he’s using suddenly doesn’t have the same power over me that it used to.

“No. You know what, Dad? Fine. Hand off your business to some guy you just met. Make him your honorary son. Adopt him if you want, I don’t give a shit. Just stay out of my life!”

I head out the door, and refuse to let myself look back.

Outside, I rush down the sidewalk and turn into the first alley I hit. That’s when I start crying. Deep sobs, hard ones that steal my breath and hurt my chest. What the hell just happened? is all I can think. I don’t understand why Dad would do this to me. I just don’t.

“Pull yourself together,” I say out loud. “Use Scotch tape if you have to, but just do it.”

That’s a saying my mom used to have: Scotch tape fixes anything, so even if you’re falling apart, just ask to borrow some Scotch tape and get on with doing what you’ve got to do.

So, that’s really that. Dad wants to turn over the family real estate business to some random guy, and he wants me to be said random guy’s token trophy wife. No way in hell is that happening. I’m better than that, and if Dad can’t see it…

Then I’ll just find someone who can.