Prologue
Kat
It always stressed me out coming here, but when he called I had to answer.
That was the deal after all.
“Hello, Kat,” Lindsay, my father’s longtime assistant, smiled up at me from her marble desk. Even though I wasn’t happy to be here right now, I couldn’t help but smile back at her.
“Hi, is he here?”
Lindsay nodded quickly and turned toward the desk phone, pressing a few buttons and picking up the receiver, “Kat is here.”
She placed the receiver back down and nodded her head towards the hallway to the left, “You can go in.”
I sighed out a thank you and turned toward the long hallway. At the end of the corridor stood a large, proud oak door beckoning me forward. My hand raised in front of me to knock, but then I noticed the faint purple paint stains surrounding my bare nails and I knew he would never let it go if he saw. Before knocking, I scratched at the dried paint to no avail.
It would not budge.
Shit.
With a shake of my head, I finally knocked three careful taps on the hard oak wood and then opened the door. My father’s large office was a corner room and natural light poured in from the floor to ceiling windows on every wall. Sitting at his dark, expensive desk was my father in a casual navy blue suit clearly waiting for me. His desk was immaculately clean. Not a family picture to be seen.
“Hey Dad,” I raised my hand in an awkward wave still standing by the door.
“Katherine, come sit,” He gestured to one of the pristine leather chairs placed in front of the desk.
The leather squeaked against my bare legs when I sat down and I pulled my torn cutoffs down a bit when they rose up my thighs. I placed my fringed black purse that I’ve had since freshman year of university in my lap and clasped my hands together. Clearing my throat, “So, what did you want to see me about?”
Dad sighed like he was already annoyed by my presence and let’s face it, he probably was, “It’s time to get a real job, Katherine, it’s been a year since you graduated and you tried doing things your way. It’s time to grow up.
It has been nearly a year since I completed my degree at the University of Toronto in Business. I originally wanted to be enrolled in Studio Art, but the only way Dad would agree to pay my tuition was if I chose something he approved of.
He insisted on me studying Business, and so, I did. It was painfully boring and I hated it, but my father equally hated the fact that I painted. It was my passion and he couldn’t stand it.
Dad expected me to start working with him at his company, but even thinking of spending mind-numbing hours in an office made me nauseous.
A month before I graduated I made him a deal.
If I couldn’t sell my paintings or make any progress in a year then I would come work for him.
I guess my time was up.
“I can’t keep paying for your expenses anymore,” He continued and my head snapped up at him from where I was looking at a dry crack in my skin filled with a dark purple from the painting I was working on last night.
It’s not like he couldn’t afford to keep helping me, but I knew the real reason he was giving me an ultimatum. He was embarrassed of me. He often was growing up.
“I’ve been painting, Dad. Trying to get into exhibitions, but it’s hard. If you just give me a little bit longer,” I started but he cut me off.
“No, Katherine.” He shook his head at me, “I told you before that painting is going to get you nowhere. Not at your level.”
That stung a little, but I knew how to hold it in.
He continued, “You’ll start on Monday, here, at head office. I have an office ready for you, just come see Lindsay at eight sharp. The press are already talking about how different you are from the rest of the family, we don’t need them thinking you’re some black sheep.”
The rest of the conversation was a blur. I just agreed with whatever he was saying. I didn’t want to disappoint him further, but as my hand wrapped around the doorknob and he called back to me, “And wash your hands, Katherine, it’s disgusting the way they’re always covered in paint. Unprofessional.”
I knew I already had.
Back at my apartment, I had to prepare for Monday and also to pack for my best friend’s bachelorette party we were flying to in a few days. We were going to Las Vegas and I couldn’t think of a better time to get obliterated then right about now.
“God, Kat, I wish you’d just tell him to fuck off,” My pretty, ginger best friend, Bethany, spoke from my FaceTime app on my phone. I called her to get her opinion on a few fancy outfits I was considering for my first day, but once I told her what happened today, let’s just say she was less than pleased.
“You’re literally the most talented artist I know,” Her hand shot out dramatically to point at the camera, “Don’t let him take it away from you. I know you don’t want some boring desk job or whatever else he’s trying to push you into.”
I sighed.
“I have to. He’s disappointed enough in me, I guess the least I could do is check out this job,” I placed down the hangers in my hands and grumbled under my breath, “Especially if he’s going to keep paying my rent until I have steady income.”
“I don’t know how he could be disappointed in you, girl. You’re amazing, I’d be so happy if my kid turned out like you.”
“A starving artist still taking her daddy’s money?” I scoffed, “At least he’s got my sister to make up for me.”
“Enough shitting on yourself,” She gave me a stern look and I knew she wasn’t messing around, “You’re going to wear that hot black skirt with that blouse, and work in your fancy new office to sustain you until you have your big break in the art world, ok?” In the background of her video I could see her fiancé Jordan come in the front door and come over to kiss Beth on the cheek while she playfully shooed him away before continuing her speech, “And then,” A smile took over her freckled face, “You’re going to pack your bags and take that goddamn flight to Vegas so I can finally hug you again, and we can get as drunk as we possibly can while also watching male strippers.”
I could hear Jordan protest faintly in the background and Beth laughed at whatever he said off camera.
“Sounds like a plan, Bethy.”
Jasper
We were broke.
I should’ve seen it coming.
I mean, I noticed the influx of customers slowing down lately, but Mom always did the finances for the ranch. She never wanted any help with the numbers.
They were her domain.
The horses and outside work were Dad’s job.
At least until my sisters and I were born and old enough to help him out.
Now it looked like we would only be able to stay open until the end of the season.
The open suitcase sitting on the floor next to my bed seemed like such a stupid idea now.
I wanted to help as much as I possibly could, but missing Jordan’s bachelor party trip wasn’t an option.
Gritting my teeth, I thought of the flying death trap I’d be stuck in for a few hours. It’d be my first time on a plane and that was by choice. I hated the idea of flying.
The problem of my family’s ranch would have to be put on the back burner for now.
You owe me, man.
I shoved another shirt into my bag with a huff.
