Luca Chessman has been longing for love his entire life. The only problem is-he can't seem to find a guy that likes him the same way.
With his family cafe, Chessman's, struggling to keep afloat and no help from the bank, he's slowly accepting the d...
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Considering I am thirty-three years old, my father still treats me like a child. In many ways we're similar, he has always wanted me to go down the business route. He said that I was going to be an amazing entrepreneur when I was younger because I had an eye for things he didn't.
But as I got older I realised the last thing I wanted to do was work with or for my father.
He's extremely successful in his own field, having started an investment company when he was in his twenties and now it's flying.
I decided to take a different route. At first I created my own insurance company, it was easy and will always be needed in society today–so there will always be customers. My only issue is that I found it incredibly boring as time went on, little space for creativity, little space for progression into something bigger. Always the same shit at the CEO, day in, day out.
So I sold it four months ago. It's safe to say that my father wasn't very happy.
But he was right, I'd make a very good entrepreneur as I'm always onto the next thing. I have ideas flowing out of my mind, left, right and centre and sometimes I can't sleep because I am overwhelmed with so much damn thinking.
The last four months I've been taking some time out for myself, figuring out what I want my next steps to be. I want to invest in another business or property and make a project out of it, anything to challenge myself and build new skills. I'm always up for learning.
Although today, my father, John, has requested to see me over his lunch period. Which to me is strange because he barely has time to even call my mother when she asks, no doubt he's going to be shoving his own ideas down my neck about what I'm doing now that I don't have anything to focus on.
He's always got to worry about what other people are doing instead of himself.
Nosy fucker.
I can tolerate my father because I know that him and my mother brought me up right, along with my brother, Nicholas. They gave us everything, they've given me this life in which I live freely and happily–sort of.
Most of the time I keep my relationship with my father for the sake of the family but sometimes I don't know if it's worth it because he's such a grump, I don't even know if he values me as a son sometimes. Yet I'm over it at my big age.
I make my way to his private offices and greet his young secretary who tells me to go into his office as he's available now. My knuckles raise and I knock before I enter because I've learnt the hard way that I should still wait for his summoning.
"Yes?" His deep voice rumbles through the door.
My fingers press to the handle and I step inside. He doesn't even look up when I enter, his eyes are glued to his laptop screen and his greying brows start to furrow at whatever he's reading.
