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~Cora~
NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT. I repeated that mantra as I headed into the office the next day. I’d had time to think about my plan, and I was confident about it. First, I had to find out whether it was my father or Mark who’d put the sale into motion. If it was my father, I’d draw that line in the sand: either stop the sale, or I’d be quitting immediately and starting legal action of my own. If it was Mark’s doing, my father was going to have to insist that Mark stop the sale, or face the same consequences. And it wouldn’t hurt to state once again that I had no intention of marrying Mark—to the both of them. Because apparently they both still needed to accept it.
I would not be pigeon-holed into a role either of those two thought I should be in, and I wasn’t going to marry someone I didn’t love. Hell, marriage was the last thing on my mind.
Although, that wasn’t strictly true. I had some deep feelings for Dixon, and it went beyond our physical attraction. Spending a lifetime with someone like Dixon would be something to consider. Okay, not like Dixon...but actually Dixon. I’d had daydreams about the two of us making a life together. I mean, yeah, our physical relationship was intense—I’d never had such a strong response to a man before—but the honesty in what we talked about and shared...that was special.
I could remember my mother looking at my father that way, as if he were the only person in the room, or even in the world. She adored him, and he her. That was the kind of love I wanted, too. I never figured I’d find it. But maybe I had...or at least the beginnings of it. I couldn’t wait to be with Dixon, to talk to him about my day, to hear about his, to make his eyes light up, and to feel that zing each time he touched me.
“Hey, Cora. You’re in early today.” Maeve stopped in the hallway, a folder in one hand and a coffee in the other. “Trying to get a jumpstart on the social media campaign?”
Her commiserating tone was enough to keep my kick-ass-and-take-no-shit attitude firmly in place. I was invested in the success of the family business...but I needed my family to be just as invested in me. Show me the respect I’d worked for in the hotel business and deserved as someone they loved. I might have had that with my mother and grandmother, but my father certainly hadn’t been giving me any support lately.
I straightened my skirt. “Not exactly. I need to check in with my father, but not about the campaign. There’s a...personal discussion I need to have with him.”
She smiled back at me. “Good for you. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I’ve been getting the sense that your frustration with his responses to your social media efforts is about at its limits. Maybe if you tackle it head-on with him, you’ll make some headway and you’ll be able to drag him into this century.”
I laughed. If only she knew. My father needed to be dragged into this century if he was still harboring thoughts that he could arrange my marriage to a man I didn’t love, just for the optics of our families being this grand force in the business world. And if he thought he could run roughshod all over my plans for my future, he was about to be disabused of that notion.
“I guess we’ll see if I can make an impression that sticks this time. I’ve tried before, but he clearly wasn’t listening.” I took a step toward his office and gave Maeve a little wave. “Wish me luck!”
“Go get ’em, girl!” Maeve lifted her coffee cup in salute and turned down the other hallway to her office.
Little butterflies circled in my stomach. Despite my determination, I wasn’t looking forward to my next conversation. Visions of Dixon’s intense gaze and the echoes of his encouragements kept me on track, though, and before I knew it, I was at my father’s office door.
I knocked, waited two seconds, knocked again, and then pushed the door open. My father sat at his desk, reading the morning paper with a coffee mug on his desk. His gaze was stuck on the newsprint; my knock hadn’t registered.
“Dad?” I moved forward and into the office. “Hey, do you have a minute?”
He looked up, a confused look on his face. “Cora...I wasn’t expecting you in the office so early today. What’s going on? Is everything okay with Mark? Have you finally said yes to him?” He stood, a smile on his face now. “Should I congratulate you on your engagement?”
“Dad. No. This has nothing to do with that. Well, not nothing, but I needed to ask you about something I saw yesterday.” I sat in the chair across the desk from him, dropping into the leather seat.
The grin was wiped away, and he sat back down. “Well, that’s disappointing. I was hoping you’d come to your senses and said yes. I can’t imagine why you’d even hesitate for a moment to accept his proposal. He’s a fine man, with a fine—”
“Dad—enough,” I snapped. “I told you before, and you need to hear it again. I am not now, not ever, going to marry Mark. I am not in love with him. I am not even ‘in like’ with him. I think he is pretentious, snotty, pompous, and...and...a real jerk.” I stuttered over my words, but I was trying to make my point clear without swearing in front of my father. I had some strong words about Mark, but I didn’t think swearing like a sailor—no matter how satisfying to say—would win me points with my father.
“Dad, what I wanted to ask you was about Grandmother’s estate. You know, the cottage. My birthday is months away still, and I know her will said it was in trust for me until I turned twenty-six. But I was there this weekend, and I saw a real estate truck there, with a guy putting up a For Sale sign. Did...did you authorize selling the cottage?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes, I did. It’s time to let the past go, Cora. That house hasn’t been lived in for years, and there’s no way you and Mark—”
I pushed the chair back as I stood. “Dad, I told you. Mark is not in the picture. There is no future of mine where we are together. I had plans for that house, and you have no right to sell it out from under me!” My heart beat rapidly and a sinking feeling settled in my gut. My father—not only was he not listening to me, but he was trying to run my life as though I had no say in it. My hands shook at my sides.
Through clenched teeth, I delivered my ultimatum. “Either you stop the sale, or I quit.”
The shocking words had some effect—just not what I hoped for.
He pushed back his own chair when he stood and leaned over his desk. His eyes were cold and his mouth downturned. “I will not stop the sale. You will continue to work here, or you can leave. And by that, I mean the hotel penthouse suite too. Either you live by my rules, under my roof, or you are out. No home, no job, and no inheritance. Unless you marry Mark. Then you’ll be living with him, and he can figure out whether he’ll let you keep your job or not.” He waved his hand in dismissal.
I was too shocked to speak. He couldn’t deny me my inheritance, could he? And what, did he think I was sixteen and was throwing a hissy fit because he instituted some curfew that I’d broken? And what was that bullshit about Mark “letting” me keep my job?
“Dad, I don’t know what is going on with you lately, but I am asking you, as your only daughter...your only child...don’t push me like this. I won’t live under your dictatorship, and if that’s all you have to offer...” I straightened my shoulders, doing my best to hide my shaking legs and limp arms. I gave him a moment to respond, but all he gave me was that dead-eyed look he’d had since my mother’s death.
“I see. Well then, I will spend the day closing up any projects and handing them off to Maeve. And I’ll be out of the penthouse by the weekend.” I turned and headed for the door.
“That’s a move you’ll regret, Cora.”
I stopped and drew a deep breath. When I turned, I deliberately looked him in the eyes. “The only thing I regret is letting you think you have any say in my life. And I think Mom would have told you that you can’t keep me under your thumb forever.”
––––––––
THE REST OF THE DAY at the office was a blur. I’d given a surprised Maeve my notice, made notes on various projects, cleared the office of any personal items, and then, at the end of the day, broke down in the ladies’ room. After a major crying jag, I cleaned up as best I could and made my way back to my small office. My former office. Whatever.
What a damn mess I was in.
And it was only going to get worse. Now I had to pack my apartment and move...somewhere. I did not know where that somewhere was, but it was time to talk to my rock and get some advice.
My finger hovered over Wendy’s contact on my cell.
Then I picked Dixon’s number instead. My heartbeat increased, but my anxiety dialed down. His deep baritone caused a sense of calm to rush over me.
“Hey, gum drop. What’s up?”
“I...I...I can’t believe it. My dad...he was the one behind the sale of my grandmother’s cottage.” More tears escaped, and the hurt began to swell again at my father’s betrayal.
“Oh, Cora. I’m sorry. So sorry. You want to meet up and have a drink or something? Go for a drive? What can I do?” Dixon’s quiet strength came through his words.
“I don’t know what to do. I have to pack my apartment...if I can find a place to live, even. I mean, I don’t know...” I took a quick breath. “And I’m done at the hotel, too. No more fighting over social media ads versus traditional ads. I guess I don’t have to worry about that battle anymore.” My laugh morphed into another sob. “I just...”
“Where are you? Are you still at the office? Or at the penthouse? Let me come get you. I can be there in fifteen minutes, tops.”
I grasped at the offer of help. “I’m just finishing up my final notes for my boss...my former boss, I mean. I can meet you in the hotel lobby in twenty minutes.”
“See you soon, gummy bear. We’ll figure it out...I promise.”
When I hung up the phone, I picked up the box of mementos, turned off the light, and shut the door. The walk to the elevator was quiet—no one was left at the end of the day—but my father’s office door was open. There were murmuring voices but I was determined to ignore them. Until I caught my name.
“Cora never used to be this difficult, Mark. I have no idea what’s gotten into her lately.”
Mark harrumphed. “I think it’s a who, not a what. Ever since she met that construction worker, she’s been unmanageable. She continues to ignore my calls, and that last dinner... I couldn’t believe she spoke to my mother that way. But I am sure that with the sale of the house, she’ll settle down. It might take a day or two, but she’ll be back. She won’t have anywhere to go and no job...it will be the perfect time to announce our engagement.”
If I’d had any kind of control left, I would have kept walking. But my nerves were frayed, and the attitude on display was the last straw. I marched right into that private conversation and dropped my box at their feet.
“Fuck you both. I cannot believe my own father would not only put me down, but he’d basically steal my inheritance by selling the place I loved to spend time with my grandmother, and try to barter me off in marriage to someone I don’t love. I am not a ‘thing’ to be handled. I am not a possession the two of you get to shuffle between you. I am not ‘difficult.’ I am a grown woman who can run her own business, or contribute to an existing business—I don’t lean on my family name to get by. I earned my degree, and I earned my position here at Stetson Suites. And anyone who says otherwise is a damn liar. If you don’t want me here, that’s fine. I’ll leave. There’s more to life than this family business. But you can be damn sure I won’t be coming back with my hand out for help.” I turned toward Mark. “I will not ‘settle down’ and be the Stepford wife you clearly want.”
I picked up my box and headed for the elevator, leaving my father and Mark speechless.
––––––––
BUT APPARENTLY MY LUCK wasn’t going to hold out. Just as the elevator door was about to close, Mark clasped the edge and kept it from fully shutting. He put pressure on the frame, and the door re-opened.
“We are not done, Cora. There’s a discussion you and I need to have about your grandmother’s property.” Mark’s face was a stone façade, his eyes burning a hole through any bravado I’d had in my father’s office.
“What kind of discussion? My father is selling it...against my grandmother’s wishes, I might add. I don’t think there is much more to say.”
“I believe there is room for...negotiation. If the property is so important to you, that is. Let’s go to my office and discuss the options.” He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the third level, where his law firm had the full floor for offices. “If you are willing to be reasonable, I am sure there is a solution.” He looked at me with an expressionless face.
My first impulse was to tell him to fuck off...again. But if there was a way out of this mess, I wanted to make sure I’d at least considered all the angles. Besides, anything he told me might help any legal case I might end up pursuing.
The brimming silence filled the space. The ride down four floors was as fast as a sloth climbing Mt. Everest. I couldn’t stand to be so close to Mark, so I stepped back into the corner, away from his towering height and cloying cologne scent that started to overpower my senses. The two steps wasn’t nearly enough to provide any relief, and my jaw tightened as I tried to maintain my silence. Anything I said would just come out in a rapid-fire staccato, and I’d be tempted to give in to the urge to slap the bastard.
Finally the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Mark marched out, not bothering to look behind him to make sure I was going to follow him.
A moment of indecision had me hanging back. What could he possibly offer that would be worth my time? I’d just told him and my father I wasn’t going to dance to their tune, and here I was, ready to follow Mark into his office. Maybe I should just leave and not even entertain anything he had to say.
But knowledge was power. If I knew what he wanted in exchange, maybe I could figure something out.
I followed Mark down the hall, past his secretary’s desk and into his private corner office. I stood just inside the doorway. “All right, I’m listening. What exactly do we have to discuss about my grandmother’s property?” I ignored the plush office and concentrated my stare at Mark’s back. I put the box on the floor, never taking my eyes off Mark.
He approached his desk and sat in the leather chair. He folded his hands, the pointer fingers meeting at a point. “I have a proposition for you. Before you say no, you should be aware that I can make these silly dreams of yours happen, or I can make sure they never happen. And I will not hesitate to do so.” He leaned back, his hands now going to the armrests.
“If you agree to marry me, your father will agree to stop his efforts to sell the mansion. You and I will live there. If you insist on pursuing a career in hospitality, you may convert the barn structure into an exclusive boutique hotel, with a maximum of two guest suites. I don’t want you to be a maid, so you’ll have a staff under your direction to take care of the day-to-day details. I think that will satisfy your father, and I am agreeable to letting you work in this type of environment. Of course, I will expect you to be available for any social gatherings we need to host...you can put that hotel management experience to good use in managing our social calendar and obligations.”
I would have laughed out loud, if my breath wasn’t stuck in my chest. Anger and indignation warred for my attention, but Mark’s next words sucked away any coherent response.
“If you do not agree to marry me, I will purchase the property from your father. I will tear down every stick, brick, and stone.” He leaned forward. “I will plow down the field. I will bulldoze the barn and rip up the concrete floor. Then, I will build a house more suited to my tastes.” His smirk only grew. “The choice is yours, my dear. But only for a short time. You have one week—until the night of the fundraiser—to make up your mind. After that, I will move forward with my architect and my renovation plans.”
I couldn’t believe Mark would be so mean-spirited, so vindictive. Sure, he was a snob and a spoiled brat, but this was way beyond a normal response to being turned down. He was serious...and my father would back this asinine plan. I could recover from the loss of my dream of running my own bed-and-breakfast at the cottage. It’d be difficult, but I could. The thought of my grandmother’s home being demolished...that wasn’t something I could just let happen.
I picked up the box. “Then I will call you within the week.” With as much dignity as I could muster while my heart grew heavier and tears clouded my sight, I turned and walked out of the building—and the world—I had always considered my own.