The Closer (18+) ✓

| 12.2 | power play

❝It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me...
And I'm feelin' good.❞

Chapter Twelve:
Power Play
(cont'd)

The evening was serene. The sky was an open canvas to the sun setting in the distance, with layers of pink and purple coating the horizon. Coupled with the quiet squawks of sea gulls in the distance and the gentle melody of a boat dancing on the tides, everything seemed almost picturesque. My father's boat docked in at the harbor was one of the best rendezvous points yet and I nearly brought myself to ask him why we had never frequented it before. The old man had questions of his own.

We were on our third round of drinks when my father finally asked what he'd been dying to all night.

"So, what are your plans Hans?"

If I had a nickel for every time he had asked me that question...well, let's just say I'd be a lot richer than I already was. It wasn't just a question of concern over his son's future anymore. It had become a necessity.

Although he had aged handsomely, the wrinkled corners of his eyes, lines on his forehead, growing white of his beard and neatly trimmed hair were all indications that the old man needed a break. But it was his eyes that spoke the most for his exhaustion; having transformed from their light, playful brown twinkles to a dull, muddy shade that demanded rest. Getting his only son to take over the company was the best way to go about doing that.

"You're twenty-eight now. You've learned enough of the industry, and been a part of the company long enough to know what we're all about. I think it's time."

Though dad spoke with purpose, his words were calculated and careful. I was like a ticking time-bomb around him. A wrong slip, and I would detonate, destroying every little bit of peace he was trying to create. I had done that every other time he attempted this discussion. This time, I decided not to prolong his fear and anxiety and be done with it.

"You're right," I said, trying not to smile a little too much as to give it all away. I set my glass of whiskey down on the table-top and stared straight at my father. "I'm ready."

The old man doubled back in surprise, with enough force to capsize the boat we were in. I had to repress the laugh that burst through me, biting down on my lip as I watched his saucer-wide eyes narrow into tiny slits of suspicion that this was my idea of a joke.

"You shitting me, son?"

"No. I'm not." The firmness with which I delivered that floored him.

"You mean," he stuttered, gulping down before continuing, "you're actually serious? You're ready to take over as CEO?"

I smirked. "Something along those lines, yes."

This wasn't the conversation that he had been rehearsing for. I saw, Jonathon Blythe who once prided himself in founding his own company and raising a corporate empire from the Earth, finally prepare himself to surrender his throne to his one and only son. The very first thing he did was reach straight for the bottle and take a big swig out of it, bringing it down hard on the round centre table with an echoing clunk.

"And to think I'd memorized a whole speech for this evening," he mumbled and then slumped back on the leather with an audible sigh of relief. "What made you change your mind Hans?"

I shrugged casually. "It feels right to do this now."

His eyes fixed on me as he brought a hand to his beard, stroking the ends of the fuzzy white in thought. "It's the girl, isn't it?"