Twisted Perfection

while Della was working I went to see him. Except he wasn’t home. Mom told me to have a seat and she’d fix me breakfast while we waited for him. After two hours of listening to my mother’s concern for my future and telling me my grandfather’s wishes, I stood up. I wasn’t staying any longer. Della would get off her second shift soon and I was going to be there when she did. I didn’t have any more time to waste.
    My phone buzzed for the fifth time in a row and I glanced down to see Blaire’s number on the screen. I hadn’t talked to her since she had left Rosemary with her fiancé and right now wasn’t the time. I had other shit to deal with. I’d call her back later. I turned my phone off and stuck it back into my pocket.
    “He’ll be here in just a few more minutes, honey. Just give him time. He’s a busy man. Let me see if I can find him.” She started to call him when I heard one of the two heavy front doors open and close then the click of my father’s dress shoes on the marble floor.
    “He’s here.” She beamed. The relief on her face was obvious. She was getting tired of entertaining me. The feeling was mutual.
    “Sorry, I’m late. I had a matter to attend to. Issues with staff that you overlooked but it is taken care of now. We need to discuss your future and decide what it is you want exactly with your life. I understand that Angelina isn’t it. I am ready to accept that. But we need to talk.”
    I wasn’t sure I trusted his easy acceptance of my refusal to marry Angelina. He’d been forcing it down my throat since I was ten. I glanced over at my mother who was giving me a fake smile while twisting her hands nervously in her lap. Something was up. They must have another future bride lined up. That was the only reason he would even be ready to consider something else.
    “Can we discuss business in my office and let your mother go relax and enjoy the rest of her day?”
    I followed him down the hallway toward his office. I had exactly thirty minutes before Della got off work. I could give him twenty minutes then I was gone. He needed to talk fast.
    “Cigar?” he asked as he stopped by the humidor that mother had given him as a wedding gift. He’d since then had a room built into the house for his large collection of cigars but he kept a few in here for convenience.
    “No,” I replied and stood over by the window instead of sitting across the desk from him like I was a child that needed direction.
    “Very well. I don’t need one either. I’ll wait to enjoy one tonight. Douglas Mortimar will be here for dinner. I expect you to join us.” Douglas Mortimar was one of the largest investors in the club. He had an entire hole dedicated to him on the golf course. I was never invited to meetings like this one.
    “Why?” I asked, still not ready to trust him. I couldn’t recall Mortimar having a daughter. If I wasn’t mistaken he had a son who was much older than me and visited in the summers with his family.
    “You want a bigger part in this business and I’m giving it to you.”
    That wasn’t the correct answer. “Get to the point. What is it you will require out of me? I know Angelina has told you about Della. I’m not stupid enough to believe she kept that piece of information to herself. She’s a vindictive bitch, which is one of the reasons I didn’t want to be stuck with her for the rest of my life. So, you know about Della now. Let’s address that first since it’s what really spurred this meeting.”
    My father’s jaw tightened and I knew I’d completely messed up his carefully laid trap. This meeting had been to lure me in and show me everything I could have then he was going to hit me with an ultimatum concerning Della. He needed to understand nothing came before her. That if he couldn’t accept her I would walk. Kerrington Club could be left to some distant relative or maybe even Mortimar’s son since Dad loved him so much.
    “I know about your little fling. I’ve met her. She’s not exactly what one would call mentally stable.”
    What did he mean he’d met her? When? How had he ‘met’ her? I stalked across the room and put both hands flat on the desk he was sitting behind and glared down at his calculating eyes. “What does that mean?” I snarled.
    My dad didn’t flinch. He shot me an angry glare with a look of indifference. “It means exactly what I said. She isn’t mentally well and you’re aware of it. However, I did some research on her