Page 2 of Man Seeking Woman

“Money isn't an issue, you should know that.”

“It won't matter, you still won't win. Your father was in perfect health when he wrote his will, he wasn't being guided or coerced into anything. This was his decision, his wishes, and that's what the court will see. I have it all documented and recorded specifically for times like this, your father knew what he was doing.”

Fuck, he's right.

It wouldn't matter how much I disagreed with that single line in my father's will, as long as he knew what he was doing when he wrote it, I couldn't fight shit. It was his wealth and business that was falling into my hands, but he held the power to make me work for it, even in death.

Haven't I fucking proved myself by now?

Growling, I snatched the papers off his desk and stuffed them back into my breast pocket. “This is bullshit and you fucking know it. Who allows such a ridiculous request? It's not right.”

Opening his hands, Mr. Stone gave me an understanding nod. “I can see your position on this, August. All I can tell you is you don't have to like it, but you have to respect it.”

Thinking about my options, I wondered if there were any loop holes. “What about my mother? Can't she amend this and make changes?”

“She could have, if she was involved in the original writing, but she wasn't. And since they were divorced for years already when he wrote it, she has no legal rights to his will.”

Son of a bitch. . .

“So I'm screwed, is that what you're saying?”

“No, not if you fulfill his wishes.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that? Do you think I can just pull it out of thin air? Maybe I can order one off the internet, there's always someone selling something out there.”

“Look, I'm just the messenger, that's something you have to figure out on your own. But your dad put it there for a reason, maybe you should think about why he would do something like that to begin with. Maybe there's a good reason.”

Good reason my ass.

Grunting, I took in a deep breath. “Why would he do this. . .” Turning my head to look out the window, I ran my thumb across my bottom lip. “If I had all the answers, I wouldn't be here asking you about it.”

Asking why about some grandiose idea my father had come up with was like asking why the sky was blue and why flamingos were pink. There was probably a simple answer, but it would take a whole lot of navigation to get there.

Figuring out the way my father's brain worked was like trying to figure out why the Nazca lines existed and how they were created. People have their theories, but no one knew the truth, all anyone could do was guess.

Maybe it's nothing more than my old man making it known that he was still in charge. . .

My father and I didn't always see eye to eye. He had his view on things and I had mine. I tried to respect him as my boss, I tried to respect him as my father, but there were certain things I just couldn't get past.

I hated how he rotated through women, I hated how he thought a woman on his arm showed some type of status to the rest of the world. I despised him for choosing a life of freedom over having his family. My father preferred disposable women to a family that loved him unconditionally.

And for some reason, one I'll never get an answer to, my father decided to force me into a life I avoided. Relationships were too much work, with too much baggage and too little space. Love wasn't a real thing. Love was a fictional emotion that people created just to have a reason to not be alone.

Jerrod Burke was a life long bachelor, so why wouldn't he want the same for me?

I had no clue how the hell I was going to do this or if I even wanted to.

But if I wanted what was rightfully mine, then I really didn't have a choice.

Everything I deserved, and wanted, and earned, depended on this one thing.

It was time to plant my seed.