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Thank God. Thank fucking God.
“That’s the point,” Dad said. “You’re the only one who can do it well
and easily give it up when Logan gets settled.”
“Married,” I said. “You mean married.”
“Joe says you haven’t bought another property.” Dad spoke to Byron as
if I wasn’t even there. “Correct?”
“Correct.”
When had my work lost its value?
When had I lost control of my own fucking life?
“Will you do it?” Dad asked Byron.
“If I don’t?”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes,” my brother said. “I got it.”
Fuck him. I was going to shred his ass and write an apology to Olivia
when I was done.
“So,” Dad said to me. “Go out. Have fun. Meet people. Learn what you
can from Byron.”
“How long?” I barely had enough air for two words.
“If you’re not married by your fortieth birthday, we’ll revisit.” Dad put
his hands on the desk and stood. “Meeting adjourned.”
“What? So I don’t come to the office anymore? You’re firing me for
working too hard?”
“I’m asking you to wait,” Dad said as he slid the door open. “Become
the man you’re supposed to be.”
I knew exactly who I was.
I was Logan Crowne, and Logan Crowne was Crowne Industries.
I just had to prove it.
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