Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“No, Dad,” I interrupt, speaking clearly over his voice. “This isn’t a joke. I appreciate the work you’ve put in to lay a straight path in front of me, but it’s not a path I want to follow.”
Dad walks up behind the podium, pushing me out of the way. He nervously chuckles into the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, clearly I need to have a word in private with my son. In the meantime, we’ll cut the birthday cake. Please enjoy it, and we’ll be back shortly.”
Dad grabs my arm and yanks me out of the ballroom into the mansion’s foyer.
He glares daggers into me. “You want to tell me what the hell that was about, Maddox?”
I whip my arm out of his grasp. “Dad, you never once asked me what I want to do with my life. You just assumed I was going to follow in your footsteps because I’m a Hathaway. Because that’s what we do.”
“Yes, Maddox. It is.” He gestures around the lavish decorations. “Do you like all the bells and whistles? The pomp and circumstance? That doesn’t come for free, son. Our name commands respect, power even. It’s our duty to use that for the common good.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dad. You don’t care about the common good. You care about collecting checks and paying for your luxurious lifestyle.”
“A luxurious lifestyle that has kept you in the best clothes, the best schools, the best upbringing that money can buy, Maddox,” Dad says. “I’m afraid this choice is out of your hands.” He grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “Now you are going to march right back in there and tell the invited guests that you were making a joke, one that fell flat on its ass.”
I turn back around, glaring at him. “No, Dad. I don’t want this life.”
Dad scoffs. “Then what the hell are you planning on making of yourself?”
“I’ve thought it over, Dad. And I want to take over Uncle Stephen’s old shop. The haberdashery in Uptown.”
Dad drops his jaw. “You want to spurn politics…for men’s fashion?”
“The shop has been abandoned for nearly a decade. It’s just sitting there, gathering dust. The family already owns the property. I want to bring it back to life.”
Dad runs his hands through his hair. “You realize your Uncle Stephen was a bitter old queen, right? The black sheep of the family?”
“I don’t care about that. I share his love for menswear, for looking good. Is that so awful?”
Dad takes a deep breath in. “Maddox, are you…like him?”
I scoff. “No, Dad. Not that it should matter either way. But you don’t have to be gay to care about how you present yourself to the world.” I eye the Armani suit he’s wearing. “You certainly dress nicely.”
“I dress this way because that’s how I’m expected to dress, Maddox.” He runs his hands up and down the label of his jacket, scowling. “Believe me, I’d spend every day in a T-shirt and sweatpants if I weren’t the goddamned mayor.”
“Regardless, Dad, this is what I want.” I grab the lapels of my own jacket. “This is my passion. Not politics. I’m sorry.” I turn back toward the ballroom. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a slice of birthday cake with my name on it.”
And a gin and tonic, even though I’m underage. I’ve been drinking all night. It’s my party, after all.
Dad grabs my shoulder. “Maddox. You’re eighteen now. I’m no longer legally obligated to provide you food and shelter.”
“I never asked you for a damned thing.”
“Good. I’ll happily sign over the deed to that old haberdashery to you in exchange for half of your profits, if you make any. But that will be it. If you want to throw away your future, I certainly won’t be financing it.”
I jerk, nearly stumbling, but I catch myself. I won’t let the old bastard see that he got to me. “So you’re cutting me off?”
He sears his gaze into mine. “Yes, Maddox. I’ll cut you off. If you need seed money for the new business, you’ll have to take a small-business loan, which you’ll be responsible for. You’ll be responsible for all your own expenses, and I wouldn’t expect any inheritance to come your way when your mother and I die.”
“Dad…”
“Or…you can go back in there, tell the guests it was all a joke. You’ll go to Yale. Tuition is already covered because of your legacy status, but I’ll cover your room and board for four years. And then three years of law school. You’ll leave school debt-free and ready to pursue your own political career. Carve your niche in the Hathaway family legacy.” He narrows his eyes sternly. “It’s not too late to fix this, son.”
Defiance flares through me. “You’re right, Dad. It’s not too late.”
And I did it. I fucking did it.