I have practiced my presentation about a hundred times, and after a shaky start, the words flow out of me. When I lose myself and what I'm saying, all of those other people stop mattering as much. I don't care what they say because I know that the work that I have done is important and meaningful.
A professor who focuses on pop-culture asks about what impact I think that a book like Fifty Shades of Grey had on the modern female experience and a crotchety old English literature professor wonders why the focus should be so much on sexuality versus other things.
My responses are thoughtful prompting more discussion, this time from students and other faculty in the auditorium. After a little while, I lose control of the room as the focus shifts away from me, and I couldn't be happier.
That Friday, I wear a cap and gown and walk across the stage to get my diploma. Henry is supposed to be there, but he's not. He didn’t make it to my defense either. There are major developments in the case that he's working on and he's even doing interviews with NBC News and Dateline. Plus, Franklin had scheduled him for an impromptu live recording of his podcast at the Louisville Theater that sold out within twenty-four hours.
It's not that I am not happy for Henry and all of his success, it's just that I feel like we’re not on the same page. Even though we still have the occasional moments when we are in-sync, there are more and more where it feels like there is an ocean separating us.
I don't know exactly how to deal with it or what I can do to change it. I'm here for him and I wait for him, but there's only so much I can take. Of course, now that I'm done with my PhD, I can theoretically join him on his travels, but I'm not sure if there's a place for me there.
He works twelve hours a day and what would I do in Kentucky? Just sit in the hotel room and wait for him? I can do the same thing here in New York.
These are the thoughts that spin around in my head as I walk out with the rest of my class. My parents wait for me out on the lawn, along with hundreds of other graduates’ parents and grandparents and children.
This is a happy day in my life. I have worked really hard to get to this point and I'm not going to let thinking about Henry ruin it for me.
My parents give me a warm hug, practically at the same time. They have brought a few of their friends and after a few customary congratulations, they go back to the work on their phones.
Thomas is here as well, probably on my mother’s insistence. He is twelve years old and not particularly interested in attending family functions, but when I give him a brief hug, he hugs me back.
Later that night, after dinner and after Thomas goes back home, my parents tell me that they have something to discuss with me. I've had a few drinks, and I'm still feeling a little bit in a celebratory mood, so I ask if it can wait until tomorrow.
“No,” Mom says. “This is very important. We have to talk about this now.”
They are guests in my apartment and I can't quite make them leave so I figure the best thing to do is to just hear them out.
“I know that this is your big night, honey,” my dad says. “And I want you to know that we are very proud of you.”
“Thank you very much,” I say, nodding my head.
“The thing is that…The justice department is investigating Tate Media.”
I hear what he has just said but the words don’t make any sense.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I can't go into it here,” he says, looking around the room.
I furrow my brow.
“What are you talking about?” I ask him again.
“Without saying too much,” Mom interjects. “We are fighting against a case that the people in the justice department are building against your father.”
I still don’t understand. My mother motions for me to follow them outside.
25
Aurora
The cold fresh air feels nice against my warm skin. I tighten the collar of my coat and walk in between them. My parents are not the type to take walks at nine o'clock at night, but tonight is an exception.
“Your father doesn't want to tell you this,” my mother says. “But he is in a lot of trouble. It's very serious.”
My mouth drops open.
Despite whatever issues I've ever had with either of them, they have been these God-like creatures in my life, untouchable by anyone or anything.
Looking at them now, I find it hard to believe that things have changed. My hands tremble a bit, but I force myself to focus and to remain calm. I can't freak out before I know what is really going on and I can't let them see how worried I really am.
I have to stay strong.
We walk down one block, and then another. I wait for them to start talking, but they don't. Finally, when we reach the bodega three blocks away, I turn to face my father and ask him flat out, “What is really going on?”
My father looks down at the ground but says nothing.
“The company has been losing money for a long time,” Mom steps in. “We have gotten involved in a lot of investments that did not go as well as we thought they would. A number of the companies went bankrupt, and there were a few financial irregularities with some of the other ones that we had invested in.”
I nod, nudging her to continue.
“We have been trying our best to figure out what to do, and so far, we have not been particularly successful. The best thing to do would be to find a buyer, but it is important to make sure that we can get a good price. And as you know, we can't get a good price if people don't think that Tate Media is worth very much.”
I give her another slight nod just to show her that I'm paying attention.
“We have had a few buyers fall through,” Dad interjects. “We thought that they were going to go for it, but at the very last minute they pulled out.”
“Why didn't you tell me about any of this?” I ask.
“We didn't really wanna bother you with everything that has been going on,” he says.
I shake my head and walk in place to stay warm.
Everything within me tells me to run back to my apartment and just climb under the covers, but I can't. This is very serious and I have to face it head on.
“Here's the thing, Aurora,” my mother says, putting her arm on my shoulder.
“We did find one buyer, and he's very interested.”
“Good,” I say with a forced smile. “So what's wrong?”
“The only way that he will go along with the sale, given how poorly the company has been doing, is if… you are part of it.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Well, you have apparently made quite an impression and he wants you to…” Her voice trails off.
My gaze goes back-and-forth between her and my father.
My father is looking down at the ground, and she is looking somewhere past me.
“What is going on here?” I ask both of them.
“The thing is…” Mom starts to say, but then her voice trails off.
“Just tell me," I insist.
“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath.
Mom starts again, but again she is unable to come out with it.
“He wants you to marry him,” my father says, cutting her off. “He wants you to be his wife.”
“What? No,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“See,” Dad says, turning to my mom. “What did I tell you? There's no way she'll do it.”
“Why would he want to marry me? Who is he?” I ask, tugging at his overcoat to get him to turn around. “Tell me everything.”
“It's Franklin Parks,” my mother says softly.
I stare at her.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Franklin is the buyer.”
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “He works for you.”
“It's more complicated than that,” my father says, taking a step away from me.
His eyes won't meet mine.
I
have never seen him so defeated looking.
I shake my head and tap my foot on the ground.
“What is going on?" I ask both of them over and over again.
“Franklin is running the crime division because he wanted to get some experience and learn a little bit more about the culture of the company and how we do things here,” Dad says. “He also wanted to be involved in the hiring process of all new employees. It's a test case for him. But in reality, he's a very wealthy man who is ready to buy Tate Media, for the right price.”
“So, why doesn't he just buy it?” I ask.
My mother raises her chin a little bit into the air, focusing her eyes directly on mine.
“He has heard a lot about you,” she says after a long pause. "Saw pictures of you, watched you on social media.”
“And he's very interested in what he has seen,” my father adds.
My skin starts to crawl.
I hate the way that they talk about me as if I'm some sort of commodity.
"Wait a second,” I say, shaking my head. "Is that why you asked me to go to that gala with him?”
“Yes, of course,” she says. “He wanted to get to know you a little better and, apparently, he liked what he saw.”
“How could he?” I ask. “I rejected him. I told him to go fuck himself, in so many words.”
“I don’t know,” Mom says.
“Why is he even interested? He told me that he didn't care about dating anyone in particular, let alone marrying someone. Why the hell does he want to marry me?”
“I don't know,” my mother says. “We don't know. He has his reasons, I'm sure. The one thing that we know is that the only way that he will purchase the company and make this justice department investigation go away is if you agree to marry him.”
We can’t talk inside in case the place is bugged so I talk to my parents for a long time standing on that street corner.
I keep asking them why, why, why, but they keep repeating the same thing over and over again without giving me anymore information.
Eventually, I give up and go home. I tell them that I'm going to consider it but, in reality, I have no interest in doing anything like that.
There must be another way for them to sell the company, if that's even what they want to do.
I still don't know if that's the right decision.
They have spent their whole lives building it from scratch, so why sell it now?
All of the things that I don't know about this deal could fill the contents of the New York Library.
When I ask them to explain more about what's going on with the company itself, they decline. They argue that it's for my own safety because the less that I know, the less that the justice department can accuse me of knowing.
But where does that leave me?
When I get home and curl up in bed, for the first time in a long time I'm actually happy that Henry's not here. I was angry at him for missing my graduation, but given this bomb that my parents have thrown into my lap, I'm glad that I don't have to pretend that everything is all right.
26
Aurora
The following morning I wake up with a throbbing headache and it only gets worse with every passing hour. I drink lots of water, and a few cups of coffee, but nothing makes it go away. Perhaps the coffee makes it even worse? Last night was difficult to handle.
I keep trying to process what has happened, and it's all to no avail. Did they really ask me to do what I think they did?
Did they really ask me to consider marrying Franklin Parks?
Do they even know who he is?
Besides, what century are we living in that this is a realistic proposition?
Still, I know my parents well enough to know that they did not do this with an easy heart. They love me and care about me, even if it's not as much as I would want them to.
Deep in my heart, I know that they would never ask me to do this if they thought that they had another choice.
But why? Thoughts keep spinning around in my mind until I feel dizzy.
I had asked that question over and over again last night, but they couldn't give me an answer that was any better than that which they had already given me.
No, I need to go to the source.
I need to talk to Franklin.
My phone rings and it's Henry. I consider ignoring it and telling him that I'm busy, but another part of me can't bring myself to lie to him about one more thing.
No, it's better to talk to him now because he will probably be busy later.
“Hi,” I say, putting him on speaker phone. “How are you?”
He tells me about his day and about the investigation that he's working on.
I only half listen, waiting for my turn to speak.
“So, can you believe that that happened?” he asks excitedly.
“Wait, what?” I ask absentmindedly.
I had apparently spaced out for a little too long.
“Are you even listening to me?” Henry asks.
The irritation in his voice is difficult to ignore.
“Yes, of course,” I say. “It's just that, well, you know that I graduated yesterday?”
It comes out more like a question than a statement.
“Oh my God, yes, of course! I'm so sorry. I can't believe that I forgot. I mean, I didn’t forget but—”
“You didn’t even text me last night,” I point out, bitterly.
“I’m really sorry,” he says.
“It's okay. I know that you're busy.”
“Still, it's no excuse. I'm such an asshole,” he admits.
Yes, you are, I say silently to myself.
“Anyway, I went out to dinner with my parents and Taylor and it was nice enough,” I say with a shrug.
“Listen,” he says, cutting me short. “I’m sorry, but I really can't talk right now.”
“Weren't you the one that called me?” I ask.
“Yes, but I'm sorry. There’s someone on the other end and I really have to take this call.”
I shake my head in disbelief.
I wasn't going to tell him about Franklin, but I at least wanted to talk to him, have a real conversation for once.
“I'm tired of this,” I say quietly.
“Okay, give me a second,” he says and puts me on hold. When he comes back, he asks, “What do you mean you’re tired of this?”
“I just don't understand what we're doing here,” I admit. "We are so great together when we are actually together, but things have felt off for a long time. Do you agree?”
“Yeah, I guess so," Henry says distractedly.
“It's like we're not on the same page and we haven't been for a long time. What are we gonna do about it?”
“I don't know, Aurora. I just can't talk about this right now. I have a lot of things going on.”
“That's the problem!” I say loudly. “That's the whole fucking problem.”
I hang up the phone and throw it on the bed. This was not what I wanted to happen today and yet suddenly my life seems to be filled with things that I don't want.
A few moments later, Henry calls me back via FaceTime.
I glance at myself briefly in the mirror. I'm not wearing any makeup. My face is puffy and my hair is out of control.
I don't want to, but I answer anyway.
“What do you want?” I ask, fully expecting him to apologize.
“I think we need to talk,” he says.
"I thought that you didn't have time to talk,” I say.
“I don't, but I'll make time."
I don't know what to say so I just wait.
He looks down at the floor and then slowly back at me. He takes a deep breath.
“I agree with you,” he says quietly. "We have been drifting apart, for a while now.”
“I know,” I say.
“I keep thinking that it is going to get better but it's not happening. I was hoping that you would be interested in coming out here after graduation
. I was going to ask you today, before we got into this ridiculously stupid fight.”
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.
“And what am I gonna do there?” I ask. “Just sit around in the hotel room and wait for you like I do here?”
He shakes his head, uncertain as to how to answer.
I'm lost as well. I feel like we have reached an impasse. I want to spend more time with him but all of his time is consumed by his job, which I'm not even sure that he will have for much longer.
I want to tell him this and everything else that has happened, just like I used to when we were first together.
But something is holding me back. I don't know what's going on with my parents and I'm afraid of telling him too much.
I don't know what's going on with the justice department or the investigation or why they are so certain that Franklin is the only way that they can save their company. I’m afraid to tell Henry about any of it in case I can't protect them or him if it all goes to shit, even more than it has already.
Henry and I talk for a long time, going in circles for most of it. He keeps insisting that it's just one more project, but that’s the same thing I’ve heard for the last few months.
A big part of me feels ridiculous asking him to take time off work just to be with me, but another part of me thinks that I deserve a boyfriend who wants to spend time with me.
When I feel our conversation coming to an end, we are no closer to resolving what we have been talking about.
“So, what do you think?” he asks. “Will you come live with me here?”
“In Kentucky?" I ask.
“Yes, of course. Just for the time being. I mean, it's not like you're working right now.”
“Yeah, no, I can’t," I say.
“Why not?"
Because I have to figure out what is going on with my parents’ business and why they're asking me to marry your boss, I want to say. But of course, I don't.
“The thing is that Tate Media is having a few issues,” I say slowly.
“Okay. But what does that have to do with you? I thought that you had no interest in running it?”
Dangerous Engagement (Wedlocked Trilogy Book 1) Page 13
