He reached out and touched my shoulder, his grip tight enough to press through my blazer. “Are you ready for this, Meline?”
“I have the corporate transfer ready,” I said.
“Do not let them see you hesitate,” Terrence said.
“I am not hesitating,” I said, though my fingers were still tracing the edge of my silver ring.
The drive back to my consulting office in the city took forty minutes through the worsening grey drizzle. I sat at my desk, looking at the system logs for Mercer Data Systems.
The traffic was quiet, just the usual automated security pings from our enterprise clients in Europe. At exactly two o’clock, the landline on my desk rang, the digital display flashing my father’s private office number.
“Meline,” William said, his voice booming through the speaker before I could even bring the receiver to my ear. “We have a situation with the floral designer.”
“What is the situation, Dad?” I asked.
I heard him clear his throat loudly, the wet, rasping sound he made before asking for money.
“The orchids are coming from Hawaii,” William said. “They require a forty thousand dollar deposit by five today, or they cancel the entire order.”
“The florist contract was fifty-eight thousand total,” I said. “We already paid the twenty percent deposit.”
“They revised the terms because of the shipping schedule,” William said. “I need you to transfer the funds from your consulting account.”
“I will credit it back to you next month when the quarterly draws clear,” he added.
“I cannot do that, Dad,” I said.
The line went quiet for three seconds. I could hear his heavy breathing and the faint rustle of papers on his end.
“What do you mean you cannot?” William asked, his voice losing its jovial tone. “It is forty thousand dollars, and you have twice that sitting in your business checking.”
“That money is earmarked for payroll taxes and contractor fees,” I said. “I cannot touch it for personal expenses.”
“This is not a personal expense,” William snapped. “This is your wedding.”
“Your mother has three hundred people coming to the Lakes Country Club,” William continued. “You want us to look like beggars?”
“The contract is in your name, Dad,” I said. “You signed the venue upgrades.”
“I signed them because you said you wanted a memorable day,” William said, his voice rising. “I am trying to protect our family’s reputation in this town.”
“I spoke with Jason this morning,” William said, his voice dropping to that confidential tone he used when closing a bad real-estate deal.
“He agrees that we need to keep the country club board happy,” William said. “He is already looking at the commercial listings for your new office space.”
“My current office lease is secure for two years,” I said.
“You need room to grow, Meline,” William said. “A real firm needs a proper storefront, not some hidden suite in a medical building.”
“We are planning a joint press release for the merger of our consulting arms once the ceremony is over,” William added.
“There is no merger,” I said.
“Do not be difficult,” William said, his voice hardening. “We only want what is best for everyone, and I need that transfer by three, Meline.”
