Spices (FIRST DRAFT) ~ An Alejandro and Alfred Story

𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓽𝔀𝓸

Daryll continues to express his irritations for this 'mistake' we made, pacing the room in an annoyed manner and repeating to me, "You really should have Kenneth and his team fired for missing this. We can't let it slide."

I sink back into my chair and rub my eyes, groaning back to him, "I understand... but I don't think it is worth losing him over one slip up. Back in November, he was very helpful with handling all the changes the company went through after I went to Missouri. He's good at what he does." The other employees in the meeting room nod in unison, humming quietly.

Daryll stops in front of me before shaking his head. He keeps walking, but this time, he takes slow steps, staring at the floor and replying, "Consistency is key here when it comes to finance, especially at this company. If that's the only good thing about his team you can report, you still need to do something about him."

"Can you not mess with my company?" I was growing more irritated by the minute and was begging for a moment of peace. It was almost lunch, and Daryll showed no signs of wanting to dismiss the meeting. "Seriously, I've been working on this for over a year, and everything is set up exactly as I need it to be. I don't want you flipping it upside down."

Instant silence surrounds us all. I look up at Daryll, and he's squeezing the edge of the table. I heard it creak. "Messing? I think, my dear son, that you are forgetting that I created this so that you could learn how to do things on your own." I wonder who's preventing me from doing that. "I don't have to do this for you, I already have a handful of companies. You can't do a single thing right, yet you think you've got it all figured out. Think you know everything? Fine, I won't help, then you can do it all yourself."

"That's not what I mean..."

"Speak clearly."

I let out a hard sigh and think of another one of my concerns to touch upon. Or a complaint, I guess, whatever he calls it. As long as I manage to say something about what's bothering me, I can give myself a little pat on the back and go, 'Well I may have half-assed this conversation, but at least I tried.'

"Just one thing, a little off topic," I begin and shift in my seat. The bottom squeaks through the awkward atmosphere. "Can you not bother me outside of the office? You know, to... be more professional?"

Heat swells in my cheeks as Daryll's jaw twitches. Like Pavlov's dog, his silence cues for me to break into nervous laughter and shoot down my own ideas. I wave a hand like removing the suggestion from the air as if it is smoke. "I'm just saying. You don't have to."

Daryll glances over at the other employees who are watching in anticipation of what will happen next. Ah yes, stupid son decided to say something stupid, let's see what verbal abuse he will endure this time for this stupid behavior.

"No," he finally answers with a quick shrug. "I won't do that."

At this point, I wanted to do nothing but leave. Something big and heavy grabbed a hold of my heart and is now swinging from it. It felt harder to breathe from its weight. I needed to rip it off. I spring up and hiss in desperation, "Dad, can we talk privately?" The dozen eyes watching me didn't help at all. I march to the door and hold it open, expecting Daryll to be behind me and walk through. Instead, he sighs and sinks into a chair slowly, shuffling a few papers around the table. On purpose, I stare and wait.

It is a little too late that I decided not to play his game. He got to me. Every time I promise myself I won't lose myself and fall into the malicious game he plays. It is like untangling yourself from a spider web that sticks to another limb the more you pull and running in a dream even though you know it's pointless. I throw myself into inconsequential fights because at least I feel like I'm doing something against him, progress or not. "I'm waiting." The words shoot from my mouth without warning, even I'm taken aback, but Daryll has already caught and hurled them back at me.