Chapter 4

Maxwell

I hear my father dealing with one of the guards. “Please tell the bar owners that I am willing to pay for the damages my son and his friend caused, as long as they don’t go to the media. The last time he did something like this, it was a nightmare.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave them here for longer?” The guard asks.

My dad laughs, “I think that is putting more of a headache on you.”

“It’s no headache, they are just sitting in a cell. I think they both are sobering up. One of them got sick, I don’t know if it was your son or his friend.”

I look over at Taylor, covered in his vomit. My head pounds as my hangover sets in. My father tells the guard, “Please make all the noise you can while you get them.”

I groan as I know my father is going to make me as miserable as he can for the next several hours. The door bangs open. I kick Taylor and tell him to get up, that we are leaving. He stumbles to his feet. “Is your dad finally here?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” I tell him.

“Finally, how long were we here?” he asks.

Annoyed, I say, “I don’t know. I don’t even remember being arrested. Now stop talking, your voice is hurting my head.”

My dad drops Taylor off at his parent’s house, then we drive out of the city towards my father's estate. In a disappointed tone, my father says, “Do you remember anything from last night?”

I shake my head, “No. Can we not talk right now? My head is pounding.”

My dad slams on the brakes. The sudden jerk makes my head pound harder. “Damn it Maxwell! Your fiancé cheated, I’m sorry. For the last two years, I have watched you drink excessively. You have made an ass of yourself on more than one occasion. My PR team is struggling to keep you out of the press. You are going to end up in jail soon! Do you realize that? Do you care?”

“I’m just blowing off steam after work,” I tell him dryly.

“Max, I think it is time for you to be a man.”

I scoff, “Dad, from what I remember, three girls told me that I was a man last night. One even called me, Daddy.”

I can hear the level of anger and annoyance in my father’s voice, “When did you become such a pig?”

“They come to me; I don’t go after them. If you think I’m bad, you should hear what Taylor says.”

Letting out a sigh, my father says, “Your grandfather believes it is time for you to get married.”

I shake my head, “Can we talk about this later? I’m tired and smell like jail.”

My father gets back on the road and drives me to his house. He lives outside city limits in a brick-and-mortar home. I live in a skyline apartment in the heart of the city. “No, we are going to discuss this now. I can’t keep taking care of you.”

“So you want to get me a wife that way you don’t need to deal with me. I understand now, I will call Jessica. we can be married by tomorrow,” I tell him before he can finish talking.

“No!” my dad yells.

I begin rubbing my head, “Dad, lower your voice, we are still in the car.”

Taking a deep breath, my father says, “Your grandfather found a girl that he believes is perfect for you.”

“An arranged marriage?” I ask in disbelief.

My dad looks at me with a look I have never seen from him, it almost appears as he is giving up on me. “Yes. It worked for me and your mom. It got me to take charge and forced me to become responsible.” We pull up to my father’s house.

Angry and hungover, I say to my dad, “Where are you now, Dad? Your only son is a drunk, and your wife and daughter are dead. You live in a huge house by yourself.” I get out of the car, slamming the door. Not caring to listen to my dad anymore, I went straight to my old bedroom with a private bath to shower.

As I take a hot shower, I begin to feel guilty about how I spoke to my dad. After getting dressed, I find him reading in the living room.

Putting down his book, my father says, “The years I had with your mother were amazing. I was against getting married. I wanted to party and travel without being tied to anyone. Then your grandfather had me marry your mother. If I promised to treat her with respect and care for her, then he would hand the business over to me. I agreed. One day, I asked why he picked your mother; he said it was because she was kind. He said the same thing about Uncle Rob’s wife. Getting married made me think of someone besides myself. It taught me work-life balance.”

“Do I not do my job well? Why do you feel I need someone?” I ask, annoyed.

“You’re a better businessman than I, Max. But you’re arrogant, selfish, and irresponsible. You will be thirty in a little over a year. You can be successful in business, and it means nothing unless you have someone to share it with.”

“What if I don’t like her?” I ask.

My dad thinks for a moment, then says, “You can have an out if there is infidelity, she steals or embezzles money, or if she becomes physically violent. If you can prove any of those things happened, then I will allow you to divorce her, but you must try to be a good husband. After two years of being married, if you don’t like her, you can get divorced.”

“Then I get the business without you having anymore control?”

My father nods, “On the flip side, if you cheat, become abusive, or try to run this girl off, then you don’t get the business at all. I will leave it to one of Uncle Rob’s children or it will sell upon my death. Which means, they will likely fire you.”

“Fine.” I say. “None of my mother’s things go to her.”

My dad nods, “Not unless you specifically ask for anything.”