The Gamble
Page 3
“Ridiculous or not, it’s not a choice. When our stocks rise and plummet based on who the tabloids say you’re fucking, you lose the ability to choose.”
Was that true?
I shook my head. “You can’t force me to get married. That’s insane.”
“You’re right. Legally, you’re an adult, and I can’t force you to the altar.” He leaned forward and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. “But I refuse to stand by for another moment and let your exploits harm the company I’ve worked my ass off to build.”
“Dad—”
“If you aren’t married prior to that meeting, you will be replaced.”
I blinked. He couldn’t be serious. My entire life had been about working for the family business. I never had another option. I couldn’t believe my father would just cut me out over something as stupid as an arranged marriage.
When I said nothing, he went on. “The penthouse apartment you covet… gone. The cars in the company’s name… gone. The bank accounts. Your eight-figure salary. Access to the jet. Gone and gone.” I was having trouble breathing by the time he made his last strike. “And the inheritance you are supposed to receive.” He snapped his fingers. “Gone.”
“Are you serious?” It pissed me off that my voice was so weak, but with so little airflow going in and out, it was the best I could do.
“Talen,” he began slowly, “do you really think I married your mother for love? Come on, use your brain. Marriage isn’t some damn fairy tale. Nine times out of ten, it’s a business arrangement.”
“Sounds romantic,” I muttered under my breath.
He snorted. “So says Prince Charming. With your history, I wasn’t aware you were interested in romance, but go out and fall in love. Give it a try. Just make sure it happens in the next three weeks because if it doesn’t, you will marry the woman of my choosing. And you will act like the happiest, most stable son of a bitch in existence when that meeting comes.”
I didn’t speak. There weren’t words to describe how I felt. I was backed into a corner, and my father knew it. I wouldn’t walk away from his money or from his business. Gaston Pharmaceuticals was my legacy as much as his. No matter how much we fought, I could never turn my back on it. Even if I wanted to.
I pushed a hand through my hair. “Dad—”
“One more thing,” he said, cutting me off. “Brandon Peterson is no longer a suitable companion for you.”
“What?”
“It was fine when you were a child,” he said, turning to walk back around his desk. He sat down and met my eyes. “Even when you were a teenager, he was fine. He was a great college friend. Now? You need to put that friendship behind you and move on.”
“I’ve known Brandon since I was five years old.”
“I’m aware,” he said with a nod. “Friendships are important. That’s why you need to surround yourself with the right people. Brandon is not one of them. He’s a terrible influence, and he’s constantly pulling you down. You need to drop him.”
“Drop him?” I asked angrily. “Jesus, Dad, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Have I made myself clear?” he asked, already turning away from me. He didn’t need me to answer. He knew I wasn’t in a position to argue.
Without a word, I left his office, letting the door slam say fuck you for me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dani
My paintings were positioned perfectly throughout the gallery. Before the doors opened, I walked around and checked every single one. I needed everything to be perfect. There was so much riding on this one show that I couldn’t take any risks. My paintings had to sell, or else I wouldn’t be able to afford anything for the next few months. Once I was sure all the paintings were properly placed, I took a breath and walked toward the front door.
“You ready?” the gallery owner asked and gave me an encouraging smile. All I could do was nod and wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt.
She opened the door and stood aside to let people in. I smiled widely and greeted everyone as they arrived. It wasn’t a full show. I recognized a few people from around town, but most of the visitors were my friends. They all hugged me tightly when they walked by and gushed about my work. Their pride was evident, and it warmed me. I felt calmer, more self-assured. If they all loved my work so much, then surely my pieces would sell.
If they aren’t blowing smoke up your ass, my inner critic snarked.
I stood back and watched as everyone circled through the gallery. A few people stopped to get a closer look at my landscape and even more paused at my painting of the Vegas Strip, but no one made an offer yet. I clenched my hands together, hoping someone would buy something. Just as I was about to begin mingling some more, I heard a familiar voice call out to me from the front of the gallery.
“Dani!”
I whipped around to see Madison hurrying my way. I grinned at the sight of her. She was decked out in her stripper attire. Her short miniskirt rode up dangerously high, and her tank top revealed far too much of her ample cleavage. Her stilettos were higher than any I’d ever seen. I shook my head playfully as she approached me.
“You couldn’t have changed?” I asked with a laugh.
“You’re lucky I’m even here,” she said with a roll of her heavily made up eyes. “I had to switch shifts with Jessie, and you know that bitch hates me.”
“I’m sure she does.” I loved Madison. She was my best friend, but we were so different that it was hilarious. At times, I wondered how we managed to stay friends after all these years.
“How’s it going?” Madison asked, glancing around at the paintings. “Any sells?”
“Not yet.” I sighed. I was nervous, but I didn’t want to let Madison see that.
“Where’s Perry?” Madison frowned. “I figured he’d be here by now. I’m the one who’s late, right?”
The joy died with the sound of his name. “You’re not that late.”
Her frown deepened. “Where is he?”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “You know, work is crazy for him right now. He’s had to be out of town so much and—”
“Bullshit,” Madison spat. Her voice was louder than it should have been. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into a corner.
“Hush,” I hissed. “People are trying to enjoy the ambiance.”
“I’m sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to be loud.”
I poked her on the arm. “You’re always loud.”
She rubbed the poked spot. “It’s who I am, but seriously, everything okay with you two?”
I looked at Madison and tried to think of an answer. I’d never lied to her before, and I didn’t want to start now, but I didn’t know if things were okay between Perry and me at all. I didn’t know anything anymore.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I really don’t know what’s going on between us right now. He said he would be here, but…” I waved my hand around.
“The bastard didn’t show.” She stomped her stiletto. “God, has he even called yet?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m sure he will later.”
Her upper lip lifted into an Elvis snarl. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
“Lay off, Maddi,” I said, the warning clear in my voice even though I knew she was right. I just didn’t want to have this conversation right here, right now.
“He’s a piece of shit, Dani,” Madison said firmly. “I’m not going to lie to make you feel better. The guy is a royal dickhead, and you deserve better. You always have.”
“He’s just busy,” I said, sounding lame.
Madison sighed. She didn’t believe me, but she knew better than to keep arguing. My art show wasn’t the time for her to impose her opinions on me.
“Thank you for being here,” I said, changing the subject. “I really appreciate it.”
She smiled. “Of course. I’m so proud of you. These paintings look amazing! I’d even buy one if I had any money.”
“God, I just want someone to buy something,” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice and hating it.
Madison put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. She stood beside me, watching the guests roam around. We were silent for a few minutes, just taking in the scene before us.
“How’s your mom doing?” Madison asked, probably fishing for anything to take my mind off the sales not happening in front of me.
“She’s getting worse,” I said honestly. “She can still take care of herself for the most part, but I’m over there three times a week now.”
“Damn,” Madison said, shaking her head sadly. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Thank you, but there’s not. I think it might be time to start looking at nursing homes or assisted living places. I need to do more research to see which is best.”
Her face fell. “Seriously? Already?”
“I don’t know. There are times when she’s so clear and then times when she isn’t. I wish I lived closer, worked closer, but I don’t and I…” I was about to cry. Dammit. I sniffed hard and forced everything back. “I wish I could just move in and take care of her, but I can’t do that either.”
“I know. And, honey, you already work two part-time jobs and paint as much as you can. You’re doing so much.” Her face was a mask of sympathy. “God, that sucks.”
“It does,” I agreed. “Plus, those places are expensive as hell, especially the really good ones. There’s no way I’ll be able to afford it yet. I need some of these paintings to sell.”
“They will,” Madison said with confidence.
“I hope so.”
After talking with my friend, I made my rounds. More people were arriving by the second, and the gallery was soon packed. I mingled with each guest and directed a few people toward the snack table. I watched as they nibbled on cheeses and sipped wine. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and I could only pray this would be my most successful show yet.
I grinned and walked over to the owner. The show was about to end, and I wanted to know how many pieces had sold.
“Anything?” I asked, standing beside her.
She nodded. “One piece sold about an hour ago.”
My heart began to thump. “Which one?”
“The landscape,” she said, pointing toward the painting.
The air left me like a slowly sinking balloon. The landscape was a great painting, but it wasn’t top dollar. I would only make a thousand dollars for it, which wasn’t nearly enough.
I mustered a smile. “Let me know if any more sell, okay?”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Of course. Just enjoy yourself. It’s a great show.”
“Thank you.”
I’d expected to make at least a few thousand dollars at the show. To say I was disappointed would have been the understatement of the year. I felt completely defeated. When everyone began to file out of the gallery, I let my smile slip off my face and fell into a chair.
“So,” Madison said, sitting down beside me. “Didn’t go well?”
“Thousand bucks,” I said. “Only one painting sold.”
She ran a soothing hand up and down my back. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
It took everything inside me not to cry. “It’s okay. It’ll go better next time.”
“It will,” Madison said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”
I leaned my head against her shoulder. “Thanks, Maddi.”
She gave me a squeeze. “I’m sorry, but I gotta go. I have to get back to the club before it closes.”
“Go, I’ll see you later.”
“Hey, why don’t you come stay with me one day next week?” Madison offered. “We’ll go out and have fun.”
“Fun in Vegas?” I asked with raised eyebrows. Although I could practically see the glow from the city every night, I hadn’t been to the city for fun in a while.
“Yeah.” Madison laughed. “You remember that brightly lit place you used to go to all the time.”
“I’ll try,” I said, but I didn’t mean it. Vegas was only twenty minutes away from my little apartment. It wasn’t far. Still, we both knew I didn’t have the time.
“Love you,” Madison said as she headed toward the door.
“Love you too,” I mumbled. “Be safe.”
I watched as Madison disappeared outside. The gallery was now empty. Only the owner and her employees remained.
“Should we ship your pieces?” the owner asked.
I shook my head. “No, if you’ll just pack them up, I’ll take them with me tonight.”
“Will do.”
I sat still while they packed up my paintings and loaded them in my car. The only one missing was the landscape. The owner handed me the check, and I stared at it blankly. There was a time when one thousand dollars would have felt like a fortune to me, but now, I needed more. My mother needed more.
As the last of my paintings was loaded up, I thanked the owner and walked to my car. I climbed inside and pulled out my cell phone. My night had already been so terrible that I didn’t think it could get any worse. I dialed Perry’s number and waited.
“Hello.”
I just went for it. “Where were you tonight?”
“What?”
“My show.” The words left me in one long breath. “You missed it.”
“Mm… well, I’m still out of town.”
No sorry. No nothing.
“This is getting ridiculous,” I said under my breath.
“What?” Perry asked.
I raised my voice. “This was really important to me.” My show had gone so terribly that my mood was awful. I normally didn’t like to fight with him, but that night, I was almost itching for it.
“I know, but—”
“Why didn’t you care enough to be here?” I asked. “Why don’t you ever care anymore? You don’t come to my shows. You don’t call me when you’re out of town. When you are here, you’re always working. You never put any effort into our relationship anymore.”
“Dani.” He said my name as if he was talking to a child. “That’s not fair.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair to me. I want to know what’s going on.”
“I met someone.”
Perry’s words hit me like a punch to the throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue was dry, and my throat felt constricted. I blinked and swallowed hard, trying to process what I just heard.
“You what?” I finally asked.
“I met someone,” he said again, the words coming out quicker now. “Dani, I know we’ve been together a long time now, but I just don’t think our relationship is going anywhere. We’re stagnant, and when I met this new woman, I felt such a connection with her. I didn’t realize how much was missing in our relationship until I met her.”
Perry kept talking, but I didn’t hear anything else. I held the phone to my ear while my vision slowly became blurry. I blinked, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t until a few panting breaths later that I realized I was crying. Hot tears slid down my cheeks, and I couldn’t breathe. When I’d called him, I was ready for an argument. I thought we would fight it out, but I never imagined we would break up. His words were like daggers piercing my ears, and I couldn’t listen to them anymore.
While he was still talking, I pulled the phone away from my ear and powered it off. The car was suddenly too silent, and I didn’t know what to do. I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine started up, but I stayed still. I sat in the parking lot, letting the tears flow freely for what felt like hours. It was close to midnight before I put the car in drive and drove home.
CHAPTER FIVE
Talen
I spent my entire week st
ressing over my father’s demands. Preoccupied with thoughts of him and his orders. I could barely focus on anything else. My mind constantly raced while I switched between anger and disgust. My life was my own, and yet he insisted that I live it by his rules. At twenty-eight years old, I was tired of having to answer to him. He was my father, but he was also my boss, and that prohibited me from arguing as much as I wanted. Still, the idea that I had to marry within a few weeks was sickening.
I couldn’t believe that my father would go so far as to threaten my standing in the company or my financial security. I spent most of my life doing everything he said. I went to the college he chose, and I allowed him to pick my major. He laid down orders, and I, like a good son and protégé, followed them without complaint, but he’d gone too far this time. There was no way I could find a wife and get married in less than a month. I had never been one for romance, but the idea of an arranged marriage made my skin crawl.
When I remembered our conversation, I felt like throwing up. Not only did he insult me with his demands, but he actually admitted to marrying my mother for business. He all but said he never loved her. At first, I was livid. How dare he do something like that to her? Who did he think he was? But then again, I was certain my mother knew his reasons. She was an intelligent woman who wasn’t easily manipulated. If my father married her for the company, I had to believe she knew it. Somehow.
Still, as the week progressed, I thought about her more and more. I hadn’t seen my mother in months. Gaston Pharmaceuticals was located in Henderson, Nevada, and my mother hated it. She often spent her time in other cities, living in the many houses my parents had acquired over the years. An undeniable privilege of wealth was the ability to distance herself from her spouse whenever she chose. Looking back, I realized that my parents had never been affectionate toward each other. I knew their marriage wasn’t the happiest, but it never occurred to me that it was all just a sham.
On Friday evening, I paced around my apartment, trying to clear my head. It had been five days since my conversation with my father, and still, I felt angry. Every time I remembered his words, my heart pounded furiously, and my forehead began to sweat. Not for the first time, I wanted to know what it would feel like to hit him. I imagined punching his jaw and feeling it break beneath my knuckles. My father was a tyrant, and he always had been, but that didn’t make it any easier to take.