Fallacy

by K. A. Berg

  He’ll tell me we have a meeting to attend with a client, and it will turn out to be dinner with Jordan’s family. He’s been pulling this shit for a good six months now. My dad has them all fooled, pretending to care about Martin’s condition. I can’t believe Martin’s this naïve though. My dad and he have never been more than business acquaintances, or at times, rivals.

  Other times, we do actually have meetings with clients, which forces me to show up to his requests because I never know if it’s a real meeting or a setup. He even got me on Mother’s Day last weekend. He told me we were having a brunch with my mother and Grandmother, but it turns out it was with my mom and Jordan’s mom. My grandmother wasn’t there. The old man’s fucking crafty; I’ll give him that. He knew I wouldn’t show up for just my mother, but I would for my grandmother.

  “Why would you let him think this is going somewhere? I’ve told you a hundred times I have no intention of going through with this shit,” I question.

  Turning his head toward me, he gives me a small smile before he answers. “All my dad really cares about is seeing me happy with a family. I don’t know how much longer I have with him. I don’t mind painting him a picture he wants to see.”

  “Why does he want you to marry before he gives complete control of the company anyway?” I blurt out, not actually thinking before I speak. Damn liquor.

  Jordan’s eyes go wide and then he narrows them at me. “How do you know that?”

  “I told you how the first time we met. My dad told me when he informed me I was to date you,” I remind him.

  “You left that part out,” he notes.

  “I thought you understood. That’s why my dad concocted this whole thing. Your father said once you settled down, he was handing you over control, but not until then. My dad probably figured with your dad’s illness, you’ll marry just to get the business before he dies and leaves some clause in his will or something.” I try to explain my father’s uncompassionate thinking. “That’s the kind of fucked up shit my dad does.”

  “That’s not the reason I want to get married before he passes away,” he denies shaking his head. “I want…”

  “Wait,” I interrupt him. “You actually do want to get married?”

  “Yes, Quinn. You might’ve known that by now if you stopped hating me for a minute and had an actual conversation with me. I’m not the bad guy here. I know your dad has his agenda, but it has nothing to do with me,” he sighs. “Getting married would give my dad some peace of mind before he goes. All he’s ever wanted for me was a happy life. His definition of a happy life is family. He wants me to have it all but doesn’t think I’m ready to control the business until I’ve settled down and started a family. He thinks you don’t learn to be truly responsible until you have someone to hold you accountable.”

  “Wow,” is all I have to say in response to his revelation. “Your parents are much different than mine. My father defines happiness by his wealth and material possessions.”

  “My mother and I are the most important things in his life,” he smiles. “Don’t get me wrong; his business means a lot to him, but not as much as family.”

  Huh… I wonder what it’s like to have a family who cares. I suddenly have a new-found respect for Jordan and his dad.

  Maybe Jordan’s right, if I stop blaming him for my dad’s douchebaggery, I might actually like the guy. We’re a lot alike. We have a lot of this in common. He seems like a good guy. It can’t hurt to give him some civility while we wait for this thing with my dad to blow over.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Quinn

  It’s a Saturday morning at the beginning of June, and all I want to do is hit the beach. Instead, I’m heading to the damn office because my father has “important business” to discuss. I’m sure this is just another way for him to jerk me around. Otherwise he would’ve made time to talk to me about it yesterday before I left the office. I know he was still there when I left.

  Stepping off the elevator and heading to his office, I try to tamp down my disdain so I don’t pick up the potted plant on his secretary’s desk and bash him over the head with it. I knock and head in, not waiting for his invitation.

  “Good morning, Quinn,” he says from his place behind his desk. An overly fake smile on his face. Here we go. This can’t be good; he never smiles at me. Not anymore.

  “What can I do for you?” I ask, trying to get right to the point.

  “How are things going with you and Jordan?” he asks, proving my point that nothing good was going to come of this meeting today. “Martin says Jordan has nothing but wonderful things to say about you, and you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  “There’s no Jordan and me,” I remind him. “Yes, we’ve developed a friendship, that’s all it is. I still have no intention of marrying him.”

  Standing from his chair, he sighs. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “Why?” I ask confused. “I told you from the beginning I wasn’t going along with this.”

  “And I told you, you are going to do this. I told you there was an easy way or a hard way. I shouldn’t be surprised you’re taking the hard way. You never seem to do anything the right way.”

  The balls on this motherfucker. I try to recall all the ways the killers got caught in every crime drama I’ve ever watched so I can get away with bludgeoning him to death right here in his office.

  “Is there a point to this conversation?” I ask, deciding this man isn’t worth spending the rest of my life in prison for, even though it’s pretty tempting.

  “Mario isn’t working out as well as I thought he would as VP,” he shares. Maybe because he was never suited for the position in the first place. He only got the promotion because my father wanted to teach me a lesson. It was a lesson I got loud and clear, though.

  “If you want the VP title attached to your name and to keep a roof over your head, you’ll marry Jordan,” he continues.

  I knew when he offered to pay my rent way back when I decided to move from the dorms it would come back to bite me in the ass. I hate that he pays for it, but the way I see it, if I have to put up with his degrading, demeaning, behavior, I might as well take him for all he’s worth. I just never imagined he’d use it to force me to marry someone.

  “If you want to continue having a career as a venture capitalist, you’ll marry Jordan.”

  “What is that supposed to mean exactly, Father?” I didn’t know it was possible for the man to shock me anymore, but I guess I was wrong.

  “You marry the man, or I’ll make sure you never have a job in this city again.” His true colors pouring through his sneer. “I’ll have you blacklisted. I’ll tell everyone how you misappropriate funds. You make bad investments. You lie to clients. Everyone will think you break every rule in the book.”

  “You have no proof of any of that. You can’t make people believe those allegations without anything to back your story up,” I argue, knowing I’ve not done a damn thing he’s claiming. He can’t prove shit. My hands are clean.

  I thought we’d reached the limit of his malevolence, but again, I’m proven wrong. The look playing across his face is pure evil. “I’m Louis Taylor, little girl, I don’t need proof. My word has more clout than any paper trail. And even if I did, all the proof I need is firing my own daughter. Who would fire their own blood? I would, when she is doing things to jeopardize my empire. Go ahead and test my theory.”

  I smile at him and turn to walk out the door. I won’t give him the satisfaction of my anger. That’s what he wants.

  “This isn’t a bluff, Quinn,” he calls out as I reach the threshold of his office and the lobby. “You will do this, or you’ll find yourself with no place to live and no career options.”

  “Fuck you.” God that felt good.

  “No, daughter, it’s you who could be fucked. Do you know how easy it would be to log into your account? Do you know easy it would be to change a few things around and then drop a cal
l to the authorities? No one would ever know. Don’t push me, Quinn. I really don’t think orange is a color you’ll be happy wearing until you’re fifty. I want this merger. I don’t care what I have to do to get it. If you choose to become collateral damage, so be it. The only thing that matters to me is taking my legacy to the next level. One way or another, I’ll get what I want. I always do. You know that.” His face completely feral. I have no idea who this person in front of me is. This man has no resemblance to the father I used to know. He’s the devil.

  I turn and leave his office without muttering a single word because I don’t know if I can control my mouth. The desire to scream at him and tell him to go fuck himself again is overwhelming. I have no doubt he would follow through and have me investigated. Something illegal would turn up in that digging.

  I love my condo, but I can live without it. I make very good money and have a sizable savings. I can easily pay my own way. But it was easier to let him continue paying for it. He has more money than he knows what to do with.

  But I don’t love it enough to have him hold it over my head.

  The company and my career, on the other hand, is a different story, and as much as I hate to admit it, he does have the power to obliterate me professionally. He could easily orchestrate a case that would send me to prison. All I’ve worked for is to be better than him. I can’t do that with him promising to ruin my reputation completely and threatening criminal investigation. VP is one step under him. One step closer to pushing him out the door. So close yet so far.

  I was already considering doing this whole charade to help Jordan out, but I still wasn’t entirely sold on it…marriage is a long way to go to help a friend. But now with this slimy asshole vowing to ruin my entire life, I’m screwed either way.

  I could walk away from it all, calling his bluff…assuming he’s bluffing, but then he wins. He wins either way. But he’d win more that way than he would if I just married Jordan. And I can marry Jordan and push my father’s ass right out the door. Jordan and I can build an empire together. We can merge the companies together and make it all contingent on having me in charge rather than my father. There are ways to manipulate this situation to benefit us while completely destroying him, or at least getting his ass the fuck out. Two can play at this.

  Besides, people marry for things like this all the time. I like Jordan enough. We get along just fine. We can find a way to make this work. It’s not like I have anyone holding me back from this stupid farce. What little faith I had in relationships went out the window when Alex’s true colors shone through. I’m dead inside and it’s best if I stay this way. You can’t hurt if you can’t feel.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Alex

  “That’s an incredible offer, Alex,” Tiffany squeals in excitement as she jumps up to hug me.

  “It is,” I agree, hugging her back.

  “You know what else this means?” she smiles up at me with a devilish look in her eye.

  “What?” I ask, thinking I have a good idea where she’s headed with this. Tiffany has been my best friend here since I found her sobbing her eyes out in the breezeway after her girlfriend Lena moved the last of her things from their apartment. I knew just how she felt at that point in her life, and I hurt for her.

  It doesn’t mean I didn’t try to sleep with her. I kept telling her I was going to get her back into dick. “It’s not like I don’t enjoy men. I enjoy both men and women but if I had to choose one for the rest of my life, I’d have to go with women,” she explained one night over burgers and beer.

  “Could be because you haven’t met a guy worth keeping,” I countered. I mean, what the hell did I know anyway? I was pretty buzzed and just wanted to get laid. I finally came around to realizing chasing Quinn clones wasn’t the smart thing for me to do. Tiffany was the exact opposite from Quinn. Brown hair, brown eyes, tiny, and honestly, she’s hot. I really wanted to be the one to sway her back to men. I think it’s every guy’s ignorant dream when they meet a lesbian.

  Tiffany and I did wind up in bed later that night.

  I thought it would be weird the morning after, but it wasn’t. Tiffany came over later the same evening with pizza, and we had an adult conversation about the night before. “I like you, Alex, I do, but last night was just a fluke thing I don’t see happening again. I tried the dick again as you suggested,” she laughs, no malice in her voice whatsoever, “But it’s just not for me.”

  “Damn, way to kill a man’s ego, Tiff,” I remember pouting at her.

  “Oh, shut up, the two orgasms you pulled from me were enough of an ego boost for you,” she said slapping my arm. “But it’s not all about the sex to me. While I can look at you and say you’re a gorgeous man, you’re too hard and muscly for me. I like the soft curve of women’s bodies. The sweet perfume. The nurturing nature. It’s not just about who can fuck better. Besides, women are better pussy eaters than men. I know from experience.”

  Our friendship only flourished from there. She shared her heartache with me which led me to spill my guts to her. She’d guessed I was running from something. But I wasn’t running from anything. Quinn had run from me. Tiff kept asking why I wasn’t doing anything when I was still so wrapped up in her. So, I told her all about how Quinn is not a big commitment girl. I told her about Quinn’s trust issues. How I loved her and how she left me.

  “Now you can fight for Quinn. You keep saying you can’t from here, and now you’ll be there.” She has been pro Alex-fighting-to-get-Quinn-back. She has said it from the beginning.

  “I knew you were going to say that,” I chuckle, dropping my arms from around her.

  “Alex, do you want her or not?” she says, stepping back to level me with a stare which tells me we're entirely seriously here. “You’ve spent two years here pretending to move on. You say there’s no way to get her back from a distance. Here’s your opportunity. What are you waiting for?”

  “I wish it was that simple, babe.” I exhale. “I could take this job, go out there, and things could blow up in my face. Whatever I did was enough to make her leave me and drop off the grid to avoid me. I must’ve called one hundred times. Know how many calls I got back?” I run my hands through my hair and pull slightly because all of this makes me so nuts. I glance at Tiff, who is looking at me with sympathy in her eyes. She knows I got zero calls back from Quinn.

  Everyone wants me to fight, but nobody is stopping to think about the fact Quinn has made it clear she doesn’t want to be fought for. At least, it’s how it seems to me. If she wanted me to fight for her, she would’ve told me what she wanted that she wasn’t getting. She just left. No nothing. I’m pretty sure that speaks volumes on its own.

  Tiffany wraps her arms around me and sighs. “I know it’s scary. But what if you don’t take this job? What if you stay here and live your life always wondering how good things could’ve been if you took a chance? Even if things don’t work out with Quinn, your family and friends are there. Your wife could be waiting for you at any turn. Quinn isn’t the only woman in the world. You need to at least let yourself try. Want me to give you the doors and window metaphor?”

  “Nah, I’m good. I get your point,” I chuckle.

  “Good, now stop being a pussy.”

  Smiling I remind her, “But you love pussies.”

  “Asshole.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Quinn

  I trudge up the stairs to Jordan’s place both exhausted and furious. I spent the entire ride from my office trying to explore all my options if I even have any. I’m working over plans in my head of how to beat my father at his own fucked up game. It’s too early for this shit.

  There’s a part of me that’s afraid too. My father’s threat is rolling around inside my head tormenting me. I can’t believe he’s become this derailed. He’s always been a demeaning bastard, but this new version of him is one I’ve never seen before. It’s fucking terrifying. What kind of person threatens their own child with a setup? />
  Jordan opens the door as soon as I find myself in front of it, almost as if he’s been staring out the peephole waiting for my arrival since I shot him a text telling him I was on my way over.

  “Hey,” he greets me with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

  “Hey,” I murmur back as I brush past him on my way inside.

  Jordan closes the door behind me and heads to the kitchen while I make my way to the couch in the living room. A few minutes later he joins me, handing me a glass of red wine.

  “You seem like you need this. What happened now?”

  When I texted Jordan, I told him my dad was up to his shit again.

  “He’s holding the fucking company and my reputation over me now.”

  By the time I finish telling Jordan the whole messed up way my dad is blackmailing me, I’m ready to drink an entire bottle of vodka and sleep for a week to avoid the whole fucking world. This is one position I never thought I would find myself in. I left out the biggest part, though.

  Jordan and I have become good friends since our little talk a few months back. I’ve never held back from him regarding anything having to do with this twisted pairing we’ve been pushed into. But I won’t tell him about the possibility of an investigation. I’m still trying to fully process it myself, but I know no one would want to be a part of it willingly. If I tell him and he decides to change his mind about everything, I’d still be fucked. My father would probably think I did something to scare him off on purpose and follow through with his plan to screw me just to prove a point.

  “He’s even more of an asshole than I thought,” Jordan says, shaking his head. “I mean, I know my parents want me to get married, but it’s different than the shit your dad is doing.”