Be My One Regret

be my 1 regret / 25

LADY BOSS....girl power and all that bullshit....are nothing compared to a kiss...

A knock on my office door snaps my head up from my laptop. I un-squint my eyes letting the technology haze clear and refocus my 20/20 vision at the real world in front of me. But the second I do, I wish I hadn't looked up. There in all his couture suited glory,  filling the entire expanse of my open door frame,  was my dad. It's an unexpected visit that sails my heart into a flurry of erratic beats. And the stony expression on his face doesn't help the jitters that climb in my pulse.

"Hey, dad. I wasn't expec-"

"I know you weren't." He interjects unapologetic-ally then straightens his striped silk tie while scanning my office space with circumventing eyes. "So, this is what B&B gave you for your office? Kind of small for a future owner, don't you think?"

Again, my heart clambers heavily hard. Painfully. Tightening my lungs into my rib cage. Not because of his disapproving once over on my non-corner, non-spacious office. And definitely not for his condescending tone when he interrupted me. Nope. That was the easy stuff. That was what I knew. What I could expect. Those trivial issues were the least of my worries. And totally irrelevant to my squirrel-y nerves. Because as I really look at my dad, my head, heart, and gut agonize over the decisions ahead of me. It was going to be a complicated mess. For me. For him. For all involved in it. And I hated the trust and pride that had lined his face when I had agreed on his offer. The guilt was eating at me. Even after only a few days since I had spoken to him about taking on my new position with his company, our company, my company, I was on the brink of canning the idea. It was still new, confusingly weird, and distressing my strength to remain fearless in this undertaking. Especially when I was secretly undermining a plan for the direction I wanted to take it. One that was less pushy. Less ruthless. And somewhat Jones friendly. The tactical scheme was nothing like what my dad would do. But it was my olive branch effort to keep his hard-earned legacy intact while playing nice with other companies, including Townsend Jones. Albeit, the plan was still a work in progress. Slightly rough around the edges, but I was within a hem and a haw in timing out it's delivery. And the apprehension inside of me was killing me. Utterly. The angst was real. Keeping me from good sleep. Keeping me from eating. Keeping me from talking to anyone. Because I knew he was going to lose it.

I knew this. Was certain of it.

Yet, here I was, still planning on a take down coup while being a dutiful daughter.

Gawd. I feel dirty.

Fighting back a nauseated shiver, I weakly smile. "Um, yeah I guess it's not that big, is it?"

"Not exactly." He spares the room another rueful glance before slipping me a half smile. "But we all start somewhere, right?"

"Right." I bob my head a little more than I should. Perspiring like a runaway misty fog under my blouse. "Um, so what brings you to B&B today? Another meeting?"

Cautious gray eyes drill into mine, and the half smile disappears. "Does it matter? You're not the boss yet."

The six foot three, gracefully aging well man in front of me was not in 'dad mode'. Nope. There was an air to his slant. A commanding stiffness in his square jaw. A power play of coolness in his broad shoulders. And the sometimes 'kind dad' underneath his classic but custom tailored suit was definitely not present. This man was all business. The exact personification Tucker warned me about. And it was throwing me off my game, uncomfortably, into a awkward new territory. One that had my young, barely 24 year old inexperienced self freaking out over. We had never been head to head before, and I was floundering in panic deep inside for feeling way out of my league. It was like I was getting a front row seat to what I avoided my whole life. A bullish, decisive, take no prisoners man who just happened to own one of the largest companies in America and also be my father. It was not the challenge I needed at 11 am on a Wednesday. But there he was. In my office door. Staring down at me. Expectant. Surly. And bold. So much so, that I fidget in my swivel chair not knowing what to say without sounding more small than I already feel.