you mean, ‘maybe someday’?” Harry Springford all but growled. “Holly, marriage is not an option for you. It’s a duty. You’ll be the one running the business when I’m gone, and—”
“Exactly,” Holly cut him off, unable to keep her tongue any longer. “ I ’ll be running the business. Me , not my future husband. So what difference does it really make whether I marry or not?”
“You know what difference it makes.”
Her father didn’t say any more, but he didn’t need to. He was right; Holly knew exactly what difference it made. In their high-end social circles, a “spinster” was not well received. If Holly did not marry, the Springfords would lose some powerful alliances indeed.
It wasn’t that she was adverse to the idea of marriage per se; it was just that she didn’t want to marry because social rules dictated that she did. And she sure as hell did not want to marry someone that had been chosen for her by somebody else.
“Whatever,” she finally said. “I still don’t want to marry Tim Sutherland, of all people. I’ll be marrying for love, and I’ll be marrying somebody I choose.”
“Holly—”
“ Listen , Dad!” Holly snapped again. This wasn’t going well. She had rehearsed the whole speech for days, and it was supposed to sound nothing like this. It was supposed to sound calm and mature, cool and collected. Presently, she was just all over the place and blinded by rage at the unfairness of it all. “I’ve made a decision. I know you love me and that you want the best for me…” She wasn’t entirely sure, not anymore, but she said it anyway. “…but I have to live my own life. I have to choose my own path. This is not what I want. I don’t want to marry at twenty-one, and I don’t want to run the family business.”
Harry Springford’s sun-tanned and weather-marked skin paled gradually. “What did you just say to me?” He asked, his voice almost breaking.
Holly swallowed hard. She had expressed her wishes of a different life to her parents from time to time, but never so directly…and never in such a way that implied she would indeed not be taking the reins of the ranch in a near future—or in any future, for that matter.
“I love you,” Holly said, and that much was true. “But I’m not you. I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I want to see the world and work as an artist.”
“Oh, Holly, for God’s sake!” Her father finally snapped, slamming a fist down on the desk. “Not this again!”
“Yes, Dad, this again,” Holly replied, unfazed. “I know you thought it was a phase, but it’s not. I want to paint. Which is why I came here tonight to tell you that I’ve made a decision to apply to art school in New York.”
“No, you will not.” Harry Springford stood up and walked around the desk. He didn’t advance upon his daughter, however, merely standing by the desk like a towering figure of barely contained fury. “I forbid you to actively chase such nonsense. You will stay here, and you will do what you were born to do. You will marry, and you will have children, and I will teach you everything you’ll need to know about running our family’s business. Is that understood?”
Holly gulped. She clenched her jaws together so hard that she could hear her own teeth screeching against each other. “No,” she heard herself say, surprising even herself with this refusal to be intimidated. “It’s not. I will not marry, Dad, not right now. I sure as hell won’t marry Tim Sutherland. I won’t take over the family business. It’s not what I want.”
“Holly, you’re my only child,” Harry Springford said, his voice hard. “You’re the only one who can take over.”
“No, I’m not, Dad,” Holly tried to reason. “You can hire someone. You can nurture them and make them grow, professionally. You can teach them.”
“I won’t have a stranger
“Exactly,” Holly cut him off, unable to keep her tongue any longer. “ I ’ll be running the business. Me , not my future husband. So what difference does it really make whether I marry or not?”
“You know what difference it makes.”
Her father didn’t say any more, but he didn’t need to. He was right; Holly knew exactly what difference it made. In their high-end social circles, a “spinster” was not well received. If Holly did not marry, the Springfords would lose some powerful alliances indeed.
It wasn’t that she was adverse to the idea of marriage per se; it was just that she didn’t want to marry because social rules dictated that she did. And she sure as hell did not want to marry someone that had been chosen for her by somebody else.
“Whatever,” she finally said. “I still don’t want to marry Tim Sutherland, of all people. I’ll be marrying for love, and I’ll be marrying somebody I choose.”
“Holly—”
“ Listen , Dad!” Holly snapped again. This wasn’t going well. She had rehearsed the whole speech for days, and it was supposed to sound nothing like this. It was supposed to sound calm and mature, cool and collected. Presently, she was just all over the place and blinded by rage at the unfairness of it all. “I’ve made a decision. I know you love me and that you want the best for me…” She wasn’t entirely sure, not anymore, but she said it anyway. “…but I have to live my own life. I have to choose my own path. This is not what I want. I don’t want to marry at twenty-one, and I don’t want to run the family business.”
Harry Springford’s sun-tanned and weather-marked skin paled gradually. “What did you just say to me?” He asked, his voice almost breaking.
Holly swallowed hard. She had expressed her wishes of a different life to her parents from time to time, but never so directly…and never in such a way that implied she would indeed not be taking the reins of the ranch in a near future—or in any future, for that matter.
“I love you,” Holly said, and that much was true. “But I’m not you. I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I want to see the world and work as an artist.”
“Oh, Holly, for God’s sake!” Her father finally snapped, slamming a fist down on the desk. “Not this again!”
“Yes, Dad, this again,” Holly replied, unfazed. “I know you thought it was a phase, but it’s not. I want to paint. Which is why I came here tonight to tell you that I’ve made a decision to apply to art school in New York.”
“No, you will not.” Harry Springford stood up and walked around the desk. He didn’t advance upon his daughter, however, merely standing by the desk like a towering figure of barely contained fury. “I forbid you to actively chase such nonsense. You will stay here, and you will do what you were born to do. You will marry, and you will have children, and I will teach you everything you’ll need to know about running our family’s business. Is that understood?”
Holly gulped. She clenched her jaws together so hard that she could hear her own teeth screeching against each other. “No,” she heard herself say, surprising even herself with this refusal to be intimidated. “It’s not. I will not marry, Dad, not right now. I sure as hell won’t marry Tim Sutherland. I won’t take over the family business. It’s not what I want.”
“Holly, you’re my only child,” Harry Springford said, his voice hard. “You’re the only one who can take over.”
“No, I’m not, Dad,” Holly tried to reason. “You can hire someone. You can nurture them and make them grow, professionally. You can teach them.”
“I won’t have a stranger
Similar Books
DARE THE WILD WIND
Kaye Wilson Klem
Glass Ceilings
A. M. Madden
The Girls of No Return
Erin Saldin
Shirley
Charlotte Brontë
Spellscribed: Resurgence
Kristopher Cruz
Inside the Shadow City
Kirsten Miller
Without Mercy
Belinda Boring
Her Lucky Love
Carrie Ann Ryan
Wildlife
Fiona Wood
A Foolish Consistency
Tim Tracer