Chapter 174
**Tom**
I pulled into my reserved spot at Blackwood Industries, killing the engine of my car. The familiar glass and steel building loomed above me - Dad's pride and joy, now run by my younger brother while I played professor. Not that I minded. Teaching suited me better than boardroom politics.
The security guard nodded as I crossed the lobby. "Mr. Blackwood, good to see you, sir."
I straightened my tie and headed for the executive elevator. My shoes clicked against the marble floor, echoing through the space. The familiar scent of coffee and expensive cologne filled the air—some things never changed.
The elevator whisked me up to the top floor. My stomach lurched - not from the rapid ascent, but from knowing I'd have to sit through another mind-numbing quarterly review.
The doors slid open with a soft ding. Leo stood there, arms crossed, wearing that insufferable smirk he'd perfected since childhood.
"See who eventually chose to honor us with his arrival." Leo adjusted his designer tie. "Did they revoke your professor card, or did Dad's threats finally work?"
"Neither. Just fulfilling my familial obligations like the dutiful son I am."
"Right, because teaching corporate finance to hormone-driven college kids is a noble pursuit." Leo fell into step beside me as we walked toward the conference room.
"Hey, someone's got to shape the minds of tomorrow's business leaders. Besides, not all of us get kicks from hostile takeovers and merger meetings."
Leo stopped, placing his hand on my shoulder. "You need to start showing up more regularly, Tom. Dad's getting antsy about succession planning."
I shrugged off Leo's hand. "Dad's always antsy about something. Last month was my love life; now, it's succession planning. Next month, he'll probably want me to run for president."
"This is different." Leo lowered his voice. "He's planning to restructure the entire executive board. You're getting bumped up to Vice Chairman."
"I'm what now?"
"Don't act so shocked. You're still a Blackwood, whether you spend your days grading papers or not."
The conference room's mahogany doors loomed ahead. Through the glass panels, I could see Dad holding court at the head of the table, gesturing emphatically at some poor soul who'd probably suggested the wrong investment strategy.
"I can't be Vice Chairman. I have classes to teach, students to-" My mind flashed to Sara, and I quickly redirected. "Research papers to grade."
"Relax. You'll only need to be here twice a week. Keep teaching if you want - Dad's compromising."
"Dad? Compromising? Did someone swap him with a body double?"
"He figures if you get a taste of real power again, you'll dump the chalk and come running back full-time."
"Manipulative old bastard."
"Takes one to know one. Ready to face the firing squad?"
"As ready as I'll ever be. Though I have to ask - is Dad planning to spring this vice-chairman thing on me today?"
"Nah, you're safe for now. He's waiting a few months, probably hoping you'll prove yourself worthy by showing up to more than one meeting per quarter."
"How generous of him." I glanced through the glass again. Dad was now stabbing his finger at a PowerPoint projection. "You know, for someone who claims to want me more involved, he sure loves making these meetings as painful as possible."
"That's his love language - death by spreadsheet."
I snorted at Leo's comment and pushed open the conference room doors. Dad's voice boomed across the room, making several board members flinch.
"Thomas!" Dad's face lit up with that predatory smile I knew too well. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence."
The board members turned to stare at me like I was some rare specimen in a zoo exhibit. I recognized most of them - Dad's loyal soldiers who'd been here since I was in diapers.
The next two hours dragged by in a blur of charts, statistics, and investment strategies.
"That concludes today's agenda," Dad announced finally. "Thomas, a word before you dash back to your... academic pursuits."
The board members filed out, several patting my shoulder as they passed.
The boardroom emptied until only Dad, Leo, and I remained. Dad's leather chair creaked as he leaned back, fixing me with that calculating stare I'd grown up dreading.
"Thomas, you can't keep treating these meetings like optional social events."
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Yes, after three missed meetings." Dad drummed his fingers on the polished table. "Your brother manages to run this company and still finds time for board meetings."
"Leo lives for this stuff." I shot my brother a glance. "Some of us have other commitments."
"Ah yes, your noble pursuit of molding young minds." Dad's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Speaking of commitments, remember our discussion about your... personal life?"
"How could I forget?"
"One year, Thomas." Dad held up a finger. "You promised to introduce someone within one year. The clock's ticking."
"I'm working on it." I shifted in my chair, avoiding Dad's piercing gaze. Sara's face flashed, but I pushed the thought away. Whatever we had - this complicated, messy, exhilarating thing - wasn't something I could explain to my father. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"Working on it?" Dad's eyebrows shot up. "What exactly does that mean? Are you browsing dating apps between lectures?"
Leo snickered. "Maybe he's conducting a statistical analysis of potential mates. You know how academics love their research."
"Very funny." I loosened my tie. The room felt suddenly too warm, too cramped. "I'm exploring my options."
"Options?" Dad's voice rose an octave. "This isn't a stock portfolio, Thomas. We're talking about your future wife, the mother of the next generation of Blackwoods."
"Speaking of portfolios," I tried changing the subject. "Those Quarterly numbers looked promising-"
"Don't deflect." Dad's hand slammed down on the table. "And don't think I haven't noticed you missing these meetings. Three in a row, Thomas. Three!"
"I had finals to grade-"
"Finals?" Dad laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You know what I had during finals week? A merger in Tokyo, two board meetings in London, and your mother's charity gala to attend. Did I miss any of those?"
"No."
"Damn right, I didn't." He leaned forward, his designer suit crinkling. "From now on, you'll attend every meeting. Every single one."
Leo cleared his throat. "Dad, maybe we could work out a schedule that-"
"No schedules. No compromises." Dad stood up, towering over the table. "You're a Blackwood, Thomas. Start acting like one."
"What if I have a class during-"
"Get a substitute." Dad waved his hand dismissively. "That's what they're for, isn't it? To fill in when real responsibilities call?"
I bit back a retort about what constituted 'real' responsibilities. "Fine. I'll be here."
"Every meeting?"
"Every meeting."
"And this mysterious woman you're 'working on'?" Dad made air quotes with his fingers. "When do we get to meet her?"
"When the time is right."
Dad's face darkened like a thundercloud. "And when exactly might that be? When the hell freezes over? When pigs fly? When your brother finally learns table manners?"
"Hey!" Leo protested through a mouthful of leftover meeting cookies.
"The year's not up yet." I straightened my spine, meeting Dad's gaze. "You gave me twelve months. It's barely been one."
"Eleven months." Dad jabbed his finger at me. "That's all you have left. Eleven months to find someone suitable, someone who understands our position in society, someone who-"
"Someone who'll look good in family photos?" I couldn't help the sarcasm. "Someone who knows which fork to use first at charity galas?"
"Don't get smart with me." Dad gathered his papers, sliding them into his Italian leather briefcase. "Just remember - these meetings are non-negotiable now. I don't care if you're teaching quantum physics to monkeys; you will be here."
"Corporate finance," I corrected. "I teach corporate finance."
"Whatever." He snapped the briefcase shut. "And Thomas?"
"Yes?"
"Wear a proper tie next time. That thing around your neck looks like something from a discount bin."
I glanced down at my perfectly acceptable tie. "It's designer."
"It's blue." Dad's lip curled. "Blackwoods wear power colors. Red, burgundy, classic stripes. Not... whatever that is."
"Yes, Dad. I'll wear an appropriately threatening shade of red next time. Maybe accessorize with some skulls and lightning bolts, too."
"Your attempts at humor continue to disappoint me." Dad checked his watch. "I have another meeting. Remember - every meeting, proper attire, and tick-tock on finding a suitable partner."
He strode out, leaving behind the lingering scent of his custom cologne and decades of expectations.
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