Cowboy Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  My mother died thinking my lack of drive was her fault.

  And that shit wasn’t going to fly with me.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked.

  “Be kind to your stepsister. There’s a reason for everything she does. When your stepfather and I are gone, you two will be all there is. Treat each other kindly, and try to see past your differences. You will be better for it. I love you, my sweet ray of sunshine. Signed, Your Mother,” the lawyer finished.

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  “That’s it. The company is yours. Your mother didn’t have anything to leave you but the belongings she left in the house,” the lawyer said.

  “Then, I guess I better get going,” I said.

  “What are you going to do?” the lawyer asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Hmm?”

  “About the company. What are you going to do?”

  I stood and buttoned my coat while my eyes continued to gaze out the window. In no way did I feel my mother saw me as a disappointment, but she sure as hell made it clear she didn’t think her job with me was done. She thought she sacrificed making me successful for making me decent, which meant I needed to work on the job she thought she didn’t do.

  I needed to make sure her wishes for my life were completed.

  “I’m going to run it,” I said, connecting my stare with the lawyer. “I’m going to run Harte to Heart.”

  Chapter Four

  Stella

  I slammed my fists down onto the hood of my car before I sighed in frustration. How in the world could my father leave his entire company, his empire that he built, to an overgrown man-child who wasn’t even capable of pulling a regular paycheck? When I declared my major in college, he tried to steer me away from it, feeling like I was following too closely in his tracks. He wanted me to find my own thing, something that rang true inside me and wasn’t a reflection of his interests.

  I guess that should’ve been my first hint that my father felt me incapable of running his damn company.

  But, how the hell could he leave it to my stepbrother? He was the most incompetent person I’d ever met! He was intelligent, yes, but he was lazy as hell. He couldn’t ever stick to his education; he’d roll his eyes and mouth off to the professors in class, and he couldn’t ever just fall in line and do what needed to be done. He thought the rules had to change just because he didn’t like them, and his entitled little attitude got him kicked out of numerous colleges.

  He was a waste, and my father had handed his entire legacy over to him.

  I turned around and sat on the hood of my car while my body trembled. I could feel my skin flushed with anger, and rightfully so. Companies stayed in families. It’s just what they did. Parents built empires and handed them over to their children on a daily basis, and Christian wasn’t his damn child! Not by a long shot!

  What the fuck had just happened?

  “Stella?”

  I stood to my feet and whipped around as I saw Christian approach. His dirty blond hair blew in the wind while his dark blue eyes mocked me from afar, and I could feel my blood boiling underneath my skin. He was a brat when we were growing up, and he was a brat now.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I was hoping you’d let me take you to lunch. I really think we should talk,” he said.

  “Yes, we do. We need to fill out the paperwork that transfers the company over to me since you don’t want it,” I said.

  “Let me take you to lunch,” he said again.

  “I’m perfectly capable of buying my own lunch,” I said.

  “Then accompany me to a meal we will mutually pay for,” he said.

  “Did you get the paperwork?” I asked.

  “What paperwork?”

  “I’m sure the lawyer has paperwork in his office to transfer the company over. Did you get it?” she asked.

  “Would you just get in your damn car and follow me to lunch?” he said.

  “Why the hell do I have to follow you? I’ve got a perfectly good place in mind,” I said.

  “Then all you had to do was say so, Stella.”

  “Fine! Get in your car and follow me!” I exclaimed.

  I ripped my door open, got in my car, and slammed it shut. I was in control of this situation whether he liked it or not, and he was going to have to get used to that. I didn’t want to do this over lunch, but it would probably be the easiest way. If we could get all the paperwork filled out over food, we could find a notary and have this entire debacle settled before dinner.

  Before dinner: that sounded good to me.

  I whipped out of the parking lot and barreled down the road, bypassing every single joint I knew Christian would’ve dropped into. Business tactics not only required intelligence and knowledge, but they also required a certain amount of psychological posturing.

  And I was wonderful at that.

  I watched my father run a business my entire life. I sat at his feet while he talked me through his day and all the things he had to do. He introduced me to things like invoices and talked me through how meetings with clients went. He taught me about finances and expansions, how warehouses worked and how salaries were negotiated. The whole of my childhood was spun around my father and the business he had built, and I knew all I had to do was bide my time until it was time for me to take over.

  I obtained my two-year degree to become a paramedic so I could help others. That’s all I wanted to do. My father’s business helped people in this community in ways I could’ve never dreamed, but he always encouraged me to find my own path. He always encouraged me to find my own way and go my own route. So, I got a two-year degree, became a paramedic, and started saving up to get my Bachelor’s in health and nutrition. I already knew the business side of it. I was raised in it. Steeped in it. What I needed was a degree that solidified my intelligence in the health and wellness community.

  And then he handed over the fucking company to him.

  I pulled into my favorite restaurant, one that Christian couldn’t stand from the time we were children, and I got out of the car and went to go get us a booth. I’d ordered us both glasses of water by the time he scooted into the seat in front of me, but he didn’t pull out any papers when he sat down.

  “Where are the documents?” I asked.

  “Let’s just talk first,” he said.

  “I’m good, you’re good. My job’s going well; I’m sure you’re in the middle of finding another one. My house is great; your apartment is probably all good and well. Small talk over,” I said.

  “Stella, take a breath,” he said.

  “I’ve taken several since you sat down.”

  “Then take another one,” he said.

  “What would you like to order?” the waiter asked.

  “I’ll have a small Caesar salad and a cup of your French onion soup,” I said.

  “And I’ll have a cheeseburger with bacon and a double order of fries,” he said.

  “You’ll croak before you’re 40,” I said.

  “You’d probably like that, too,” he said.

  “So, tell me,” I said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “I know you know,” I said.

  “Know what?” he asked.

  “Why my father is making us go through all this before I take over the company. He and I agreed when I first started my schooling that I would take over the business when he passed. Did you and he concoct this somehow to try and draw us closer?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to be any closer to you than I have to. Why would I come up with something like that?” he asked.

  “Then tell me why the hell my father just handed over his entire legacy to someone who isn’t even his child,” I said.

  Christian held my gaze for quite some time before he grabbed his water. I eyed him carefully while he took a sip of it, his mind obviously debating on how to respond. It was harsh but true. Christian wasn’t his son, nor was he my brother. His intelligence didn�
�t make up for his incompetence and his lack of drive to better himself in life, and he was going to single-handedly run my father’s company into the ground.

  There had to be another reason why this was happening, because I refused to believe the end result was Christian running Harte To Heart.

  “I was very much your father’s son, whether you want to believe that or not,” he said coolly.

  “Believe all you want, but my father promised me his company,” I said.

  “I think what you remember is your father telling you he approved of your degree as long as it was something you wanted to pursue. I don’t recall anything in that conversation about him giving you Harte To Heart,” he said.

  “It was implied. Everything with my father was always implied,” I said.

  “Was it? Or did you want it to be to cushion the world you made up in your mind?” he asked.

  “There is no possible way you can run the company, Christian. You couldn’t even hold down the managerial job at that retail store you worked at,” I said.

  “I was right on their policy,” he said. “There was no reason why that woman couldn’t work in the same area as her ex-husband so long as they kept kosher.”

  “That wasn’t your decision to make. You’ve always been terrible at knowing your place,” I said.

  “Why the hell do people need ‘a place?’” he asked.

  “Because that’s how the entire world works. You put in your due, you follow the rules, you get the degrees you need to get, you spend the time learning what you need to learn, and then you are put in a position based on your hard work and dedication to do what you want!” I exclaimed.

  “Which is absolute bullshit,” he said.

  “And your lazy ass would think that,” I said.

  “Look, I don’t know why your father chose me to run the company,” he said, “but he did. And you have to come to terms with that. You didn’t feel the need to stay for the reading of my mother’s letter, but did you know what it said?”

  “I bet you’re going to tell me,” I said.

  “Yeah, I am. She died thinking my lack of success was because she chose to raise me to be a decent man over raising me to be a successful one.”

  “You’ve never done anything productive with your life, Christian,” I said. “How the hell do you expect to run this company? Success isn’t defined by running a company; it’s defined by being happy with what you’re doing.”

  “Well, I’ve been happy,” he said.

  “Job-hopping and never knowing where your next paycheck will come from?” I asked.

  “Money and jobs don’t make people happy, Stella,” he said.

  “Then you’ll have no issues handing over a company that will make me happy.”

  “I’m not handing the company over to you,” he said.

  “You said so yourself that you don’t want it. That you’ve been happy job-hopping and all that bullshit. So, why is this such a hard thing for you to do?” I asked. “Are you finally happy you got the one-up on your bratty, spoiled stepsister?”

  I watched him falter for a split second before I felt a smirk crawl across my face.

  “What? You don’t think I know what my own stepbrother thinks of me? I grew up with you, Christian.”

  “Yeah, we grew up together, and do you know what my favorite memory is of you?” he asked.

  “The time where I ran into the door and broke my nose?” I asked.

  “No, it’s not nearly that funny,” he said. “It’s when I saw you vulnerable.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Yeah. In the lawyer’s office, you faltered. Just for a few seconds. Your vulnerability shined through, and I’ve only seen it one other time. It’s my favorite memory of you.”

  “My vulnerability is your favorite memory,” I said. “Alright, then when was it?”

  “You were sitting underneath that weeping willow tree reading a book. It must’ve been a very funny book because the laughter and snickering I heard all the way in the street was completely unidentifiable. You were sitting against the trunk of the tree while I was riding my bike, and I ditched my bike to figure out what that damn noise was. It was airy, and sort of sounded like someone was choking on chips,” he said.

  “Uh huh,” I said, nodding.

  “When I found the source of the noise, I realized it was you laughing. Your cheeks were red, and your lips were curled up, and I just stood there watching you for five solid minutes while you lost yourself in this entire world. This world you created in your head that was obviously full of beauty and humor, unfolding right before your eyes. You let yourself get lost in it. You let yourself be vulnerable. It’s my favorite memory of you.”

  I was rooted to my seat. I felt exposed in a way that wasn’t alright with me, and suddenly all of this felt very out of place. I cleared my throat and straightened my back, looking for a way to gain the upper hand from a man who had snaked it slowly out from underneath me.

  But, I wasn’t succumbing to his tactics. I wasn’t going to let this slide. My father’s entire legacy was at stake, and that I didn’t take lightly.

  “Why the hell did my father choose you to run the company?” I asked.

  “My guess is because it takes vulnerability and empathy to run the type of company he created.”

  “And here I just thought you told me I was capable of vulnerability,” I said.

  “Obviously, by the look on your face, you believe you’re not. Do you think your father was able to read people as well as I can?” he asked.

  I’d had enough of this lunch. My mind was whirling, and the knife at the table was looking mighty appealing at present. I threw my napkin onto the table before I scooted out of the booth, and Christian’s eyes switched from guarded to pleading in the span of half a second.

  “Come on, Stella. Just sit down. We really need to talk,” he said.

  “We’ve talked enough. When you realize how hard this is, the type of expertise and training necessary, you’ll turn it over,” I said.

  “Stella.”

  “Goodbye, Christian,” I said.

  I walked out of the restaurant before the food even got there and stuck him with the bill. If he was going to run my father’s company, then he could afford the food not eaten. All I wanted to do was go home. My father was dead, the business had been given to my incompetent and lazy ass stepbrother, and everything I had worked so hard for had just spiraled down the drain.

  Fuck this day and every day that had ever come before it.

  Chapter Five

  Christian

  The moment I walked into my house after my disastrous lunch with Stella, I couldn’t help but chuckle. She and I had become so distant that she thought I was still living in that dingy old apartment I first moved into when I got kicked out of college. Little did she know I’d worked my way into renting a pretty decent house I was proud of.

  But, I spent the entire evening thinking about all the new responsibilities my stepfather had saddled me with.

  There was terminology I wasn’t familiar with and things like “factory standards” and “safety standards” to learn. I had to familiarize myself with projects he probably had in the works as well as stay on top of people who looked after things like all the regular deliveries that had to be made. I needed to make sure the books were balanced and that all bills were necessary, and I needed to look into the possibility of finding a larger warehouse to put the store. I’d always thought that place was a bit small, even if he did only want to target just the San Diego community.

  I also made a mental note to educate myself in patents and licensing. There’s a great deal of money in licensing, sure. But, if we could patent a couple of things and keep them as ours, selling them only from our medical supplies store, that could put us on the map internationally.

  I had so many ideas bombard me, but I needed some technical books to read to familiarize myself with the verbiage of the industry.

  I found myself he
aded back to the coffee shop much earlier than I planned. I needed to talk to Todd about some things, and I just needed his advice. Plus, I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to back down from this challenge. My stepfather entrusted me with his company so I would take it to the next generation. I had to show him that his trust wasn’t misplaced, and I had to show my mother that she was wrong.

  I had to show her she hadn’t failed with me.

  “Hey, Christian. So, how’s it feel to have a rich-ass stepsister?” he asked.

  “Try again,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The question should be how does Stella feel about having a rich-ass stepbrother,” I said.

  “Dude. Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, smiling.

  “Not in the slightest. That man fucking handed over his company to me,” I said.

  “Oh, holy shit. Stella must’ve lost her mind.”

  “She did. She didn’t even stay to hear my mother’s last letter read,” I said.

  “That’s brutal. How do you feel about that?” he asked.

  “It’s whatever. I’m kind of glad she wasn’t there for it. It was lunch that was the fun part,” I said.

  “Lunch?”

  “Yeah. I figured I could take her to lunch so we could talk about what the hell happened,” I said.

  “I bet she didn’t like that,” he said.

  “Nope. She got angry and accused me of assuming she couldn’t pay for her lunch, then started all this bullshit business powerplay fuckery. Wanted to pick the restaurant, went to the one place she knew I didn’t like. Shit like that.”

  “That’s insane,” Todd said, chuckling.

  “It is. Then, she berated me in front of the entire restaurant. Said I hadn’t ever achieved anything and called me lazy and kept asking me why the hell her father handed me the company. You know, she thought me and her old man had somehow connived this behind her back.”

  “Wait, she accused you of being a lazy ass, and then accused you of being a mastermind?” he asked.

  “Yep. She was irate,” I said.

  “Obviously. But Christian, congrats. This is gonna be good for you.”