VICTOR's POV
"Mr. McNemara?" a voice I didn't know sounded, disturbing my train of thoughts. It's been two days since my talk with Oliver, and I still couldn't get the picture of his crying face out of my mind. It's been tormenting me even in my sleep, resulting in my restless mind and exhausted body.
"Yes?" I asked, looking around at everyone in the room, waiting for the person to speak up again. We were currently checking over another project that was supposed to be presented in two days, and because of some idiot who decided to give it to a rookie, we had full hands with it. There were just too many mistakes and ambiguity.
"The calculation of initial outlay is all messed up. The numbers are too far from the calculations that were done in the draft proposal. We'll have to go over it again to figure out if there was a mistake or if the prices moved up over the time this was done," the same voice said, my eyes recognizing the person as the scrawny black haired guy right in front of me. Searching for the right paper in the pile in front of me, I felt my brows furrow when I saw the ridiculous numbers.
"Are you kidding me? How the hell did he came up with this sum? Even if the prices rose up by ten percent - which is impossible, by the way - this is just ridiculous. Is the guy who worked on this blind or something? He had to realize it was too much the moment he saw the figures." My voice rose with each word, and I was pretty sure half of the stuff was ready to cry by the expressions on their faces. But I couldn't care less. People working in this company should be responsible and capable of working individually without fucking up. But from what I've seen up until now, it was just bunch of useless idiots.
Readying myself to yell some more, the main door to the conference room was flung open, a face I didn't want to see for the rest of my life appearing in it. He was the last person I wanted to see right now, and he knew it very well.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I spat, my body growing cold and face turning to a stone-like expression. I knew there would be an argument between us, and for whatever reason it would be, neither of us would back down.
"Oh, come on, Victor, can't a father visit his long lost son? How long has it been since we saw each other? Two months? You're my only child; of course I would want to see you from time to time." He smirked, slowly strolling inside the room, stopping only after he reached the table.
"I heard you are swamped with work. May I be of any help?" he took a hold of one stack of papers, casually going through it with serious eyes.
"Useless," he grumbled, throwing it back on the table and sighed, looking at me with pitiful eyes.
"I can see why it's taking you so long to finish here. It was a good idea to send you here. Looking at this trash, we would be ruined in next few months." He came over to one of the chairs and sat down, grabbing another pile of papers to look at them.
"Why are you here?" I pressed, not caring for our audience. I didn't want him to bother me here. Just his presence was annoying the hell out of me and considering my mood and overall condition, talking to him was quite dangerous. He always brought out the worst out of me.
"As I said, I wanted to see you! I had some work in New York, so I made use of the situation and decided to visit you for few days." He smiled, putting the papers away.
"But you're right. There's something I'd like to discuss with you, so I hope you will accompany me and have dinner with me; preferably around six or seven in the evening. I have some plans later on." He stood up, not even waiting for my response.
"I'll be back around six, so be ready to go. You know how much I despise tardiness," father added, and without saying another word, left the room.
To say the mood in the room worsened was an understatement. If my yelling earlier made everyone feel like shit, my father's calm yet cold words ruined everyone's motivation to even lift one finger. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the people in the room were ready to resign.
Throwing the paper in my hand on the table, I stood up.
"Break for thirty minutes," I grumbled, leaving the room in a hurry, just barely keeping it together. I needed something sweet. And I needed another cup of coffee or I wouldn't be able to survive the rest of the day. Knowing I was meeting with my father after work made everything ten times worse.
*****
We were sitting in an overly luxurious restaurant, silently looking into menus, my dad drinking some expensive aperitif. It's been over half an hour since he picked me up, and he didn't say even one word to me. Not that I minded it in any way, just hearing his voice made me irritated, but he invited me over there for a reason, and I wanted to know as soon as possible. Knowing what he wanted meant I would get to leave earlier.
"Are you ready to order?" our waiter asked, smiling a stupid smile. To be completely honest, I was surprised he was capable of smiling. When he brought us the drinks and tried to ask the same question for the first time, my father didn't even bat an eyelid and told him to get out and come after ten minutes. I knew why I hated going to any public places with him. He was even bigger asshole than I.
"I'll have the lamb rib chops with mashed potatoes and red wine sauce. Bring some simple salad with it and cold water."
I couldn't stop the snort that escaped my lips. He was always acting like such a snob I couldn't stand it.
After taking the menu from my father and writing the order down, he turned to me, still smiling.
"Bring me the best steak you have, medium done, with roasted potatoes and haricots verts. To drink, I will have one beer." I returned the menu to him, not really choosing anything from it. We weren't in a specialized restaurant, so steak shouldn't be a problem here.
"Can't you order something different? Something more sophisticated? If I wanted a steak, we could go to an ordinary pub," he said, his voice full of disappointment and disagreement.
Sighing, I shook my head and nodded at the waiter so he could leave.
"I will have whatever I want to at the moment. You invited me here, so stop with the stupid tries to control me. It's enough you can order me around at work. My private life is my own; just deal with it."
I watched his shoulder tense and face turn cold. There was definitely something off about him today. He would never visit me like this, not without calling first. And he never had a problem with me talking back to him. Now, though, he looked as if he was about to scold a little child for doing something stupid.
"That's not exactly right, at least not from now on." His voice was low, and I could feel my body grow cold once again. What the hell was the bastard talking about? He had no power over me. There was just no way he could control my life just like that.
"What does that mean? Are you trying to piss me off, old man?" I growled, not caring when his eyes twitched, signalizing he was getting irritated. He hated when I called him that, and that was exactly why I continued doing so. Seeing him lose his composure was the best thing about our conversations.
"The work I had in New York included Mr. Edwards. I'm sure you are smart enough to figure the rest out. We set the date, and the place. It will be in news tomorrow," he said, his typical stupid smirk playing on his lips. I felt like punching him, but my mind was too occupied with thinking to do so.
It took me a while to figure out what exactly was he talking about. He didn't tell me much, and although I considered myself smart, I needed a minute to come up with the ridiculous news.
"You've got to be kidding me. You can't do that! We were the ones who came up with the idea; you have no right to control when and where!" I yelled, not caring one bit for our surroundings. He should've expected my reaction. The fact he chose a restaurant like this one showed. He either didn't care or was an idiot who thought I would restrain myself.
"I'm not doing it. I don't care for your reasons or stupid reputation. You can't force me into marriage without my consent, and I'm not ready yet. We might be engaged, but that doesn't mean we can get married just like that!" I stood up, my fists tightly clenched. I was sure there would be a lot of blood if my nails were longer.
"Does Alison know about this? I talked to her few days ago, and she didn't mention this bullshit." I asked, already knowing the answer. There was no way Ali wouldn't tell me something like this. I would be the first person to hear it from her, and it wouldn't matter if it was late in the night or early in the morning. That was the way she was.
"I'm sure they are in a similar situation as us around this time. We arrived in Boston together, so I doubt he would wait extra-long to tell her."
I scoffed, imagining her reaction. She was definitely making much greater scene than me. If I hated when someone was telling me what to do, she absolutely loathed it. I hope her father chose a place without any sharp or breakable things, or it would end up disastrously.
"And you think you will manage to make us do just like you please why?" Shaking my head, I sat back down; taking a sip of the drink I still hadn't touched since the waiter brought it. It was the same as my father's, and it was disgusting; as some kind of girly drink or something.
"I have no idea how is Peter going to persuade his daughter, but you will agree to it. I'm sure of it." He smiled, copying me and drinking his own drink as well.
"I have information you will definitely want to know."
******************************************************************
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! It's time for some questions!
What do you think about Vic's father from the brief meeting?
Do you think they will agree to the marriage?
And what information does Graham has to think Victor would be willing to listen to him because of it?
I hope the next update will be here sooner!