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Staring out of the large window panel in complete thought, Y/N's gel-covered nails tapped against her black skirt, waiting for the eventful to happen. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew something was about to happen that would make her stomach churn for the worst. It was always like that, and Y/N knew not to take the worrying feeling and shove it to the back of her mind. She had to embrace it, and that was one of the characteristics that her father wanted her to have.
Her tired eyes roamed below her as her fingers sped their tapping on her thighs. Her mind was racing, and she couldn't help it. She took medicine for it, but was out and made a mental note to have her assistant pick it up later. She wished she could trade places with one of the city-goers. The city's streets were filled with them tending to their daily lives, and cars honked through traffic to reach their next destination. A thick glass only separated her from them, but she felt worlds apart.
Did they feel as lonely and anxious as she did?
Y/N looked up at the darkening sky and sighed. She was so busy scheduling meetings and tending to her career that she didn't consider the forecast. She couldn't even remember the day, let alone know if it would rain.
But then again, did she need an umbrella when everyone here was at her beck and call? Even with her anxious personality, they were scared of her. She wanted it not to be that way, but she understood their fear. After all, she was the one who wrote the checks and signed off on them.
Chuckling to herself, Y/N turned her attention to an older man with a gray suit. He slowly approached a food stand and grabbed a menu from the counter. With one hand empty and the other holding the menu, she could see him gazing at the words in thought. She wondered what he did for a living as she noticed his eyebrows raising at the options. Was he a lawyer? Was he a sales clerk? Did he feel content with his life? Did he have children? She wouldn't be surprised if he had grandchildren, as she noticed the silver streaks in his curly hair.
Y/N slowly came from her thoughts, as she watched him mouth something to the lady behind the stand, causing her to pull her hand to her mouth to hide a giggle.
He was funny. Something that she easily was not.
'Miss Y/N," her assistant walked into the room with an iPad, causing Y/N to draw her attention from the window and swivel her chair around to face the dark-haired woman. She was glad they were on a first-name basis with each other. They had known each other for five years, and she was tired of the formalities. She got pushback from her family, but she shrugged and didn't care. She was not a machine, and she craved normalcy. "Your father is here," Y/N saw the grimace on her assistant's face. Her father was a handful, and they both knew it.
"Did he say what he wanted?" Y/N asked with a frown coating her brown lips. He wasn't there to make small talk with his only daughter.
She knew he had an ulterior motive.
"No ma'am, he did not," the younger female shook her head. She knew the relationship between the father-daughter duo, and it wasn't a good one. She didn't think this meeting would end with laughs and an invite to an impromptu lunch. Those meetings never did. "Should I send him in?"
Moving her eyes towards the clock over the door, it read 11:18. Her next meeting didn't start until the top of the hour.
"Tessa, if I could, I would have already told you no," Y/N's red-coated lips turned upward as she stood up and pushed down her skirt. She could feel her white blouse sticking to her warm skin, and she hoped the meeting with her father wouldn't take too long.
Her next meeting was too important to miss.
Y/N pulled out a compact mirror from her desk and looked over her appearance. No hair from her head was out of place, and her makeup was minimal. The only products were lip gloss and mascara. She was still struggling with the concept of make-up. Her hands couldn't move fluidly like the ones she saw on YouTube. They were pros and made no mistakes. She wasn't, and the wiping of blush from her cheeks this morning was evident.
"You can send him in," Y/N mumbled as she looked down at her desk. It was clean, no papers in disarray, and all her pens were placed in a coffee cup gifted to her by one of her kids at the women's shelter. She felt at home there, and she always made time for them. No matter how busy her schedule was, she always volunteered her time every Saturday.
With baggy pants and a baseball cap, no one noticed who she was.
No one noticed that she was Y/N Y/L/N—the CEO of Y/L/N's Enterprises, which caters to the wellness and skincare of the black and brown community. No one knew, and she wanted to keep it that way.
"Hi, Dad," Y/N forcedly smiled as a middle-aged man appeared. Tessa left the pair alone to discuss whatever they needed to discuss. The father was adamant about coming to see his daughter, the daughter he had to give up his company to for medical reasons.
"Please take a seat," Y/N waved one of her hands to the two armchairs before her.
At least one of us would be comfortable. She thought as the sperm donor, who looked just like her, took a seat in the tan chair.
The tension in the room was thick. It could be cut with a knife.
"This won't take long," Y/N's father plopped down, and he remembered that he was once the owner of this room. He looked around the room, and his shoulders sagged. The place he once called home was different. Instead, green plants were scattered across the room. A humidifier hummed in the background, and a pink, fluffy rug was below his tailored cover feet. The mahogany desk was now jet-black. Little plushies littered the edge of it. His tired eyes stared at the colorful mug filled with gel pens. Y/N was always fascinated with those things. "How are you?" He asked, and Y/N sighed.
He wasn't here for small talk.
"I'm good," She said, sitting in her gray chair and leaning back. Her father was aging, and she wondered what he could possibly want. "How are you?" She asked, and the question was loaded. She wanted to know if his chemotherapy was going okay. She knew her father. He hated the idea of being weak, but in her eyes, she always saw her father as being strong.
Strong enough to battle his sickness and still lead with an iron fist.
"Better," he perked up and leaned closer to the desk. He could smell the wallflower plugged into one of the outlets. The room reeked of vanilla and cinnamon. "But I didn't come here for us to talk about me. I have a proposal for you."
"A proposal?" Y/N cocked her head to the side. "A business proposal?"
"You can say that," her father beamed with excitement. "What if I told you I got us a deal. A deal that will push the company into new heights?"
"What do you mean?" she furrowed her eyebrow.
"Would you happen to know Jackson's Enterprises?"
"I am aware of them." Y/N quirked up at the name. She was familiar with the company and the CEO. Would she say they were arch enemies? Not necessarily. Were they competitors? More so.
"The CEO is looking for a bride," her father smiled, and Y/N/'s shoulder sagged at where this conversation was going. Was he here to play matchmaker? She did not need a man, nor did she want one. She was okay with being by herself.
"And what does that have to do with me?" Y/N grabbed her glasses from the drawer where her mirror was. She took them out of the case and put them on. She was getting a headache. A headache that will linger with her for the rest of the day.
"Because you're the perfect match."
"I'm not."
"You are," Y/F/N clasped his hands together. He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and had one more item up his sleeve. "And I have already set up a meeting for you to meet this afternoon."
"You didn't," Y/N adjusted her glasses. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. What more did her father want from her? She did not cause any drama and always gave her 100% regarding the business. Why was her love life being examined under a microscope?
"I did."
"But it's not fair," Y/N got up from her seat and slammed her hands on her desk. "I give my everything to this company, and you decided to do this? I can't, Dad, and I won't."
"You can!" Y/F/N started to raise his voice as he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "You know how much this would mean to me to see my daughter walking down the aisle, and I give you away? Before I---."
"Before you what?" Y/N gritted her teeth, feeling her walls caving in.
"Before I die," Y/F/N's voice dropped, and Y/N's heart sank. She hated it when he used that card. "You know the doctors have said that stress is not the way to go. You being alone stresses me out."
"But I'm only 27."
"Yes," Y/F/N mumbled as he rubbed his temples. Why couldn't she understand his reasoning? This collaboration could strengthen their company. They could reach new heights. "But I was already married to your mother with you on the way when I was 25."
"Everyone has different ambitions, "Y/N whispered to no one in particular, moving away from her desk to clear her thoughts. She walked over to the window and noticed the man from the stand was long gone. "I just don't think marriage is on the table for me right now. I have a lot going for me right now."
"Y/N, I know that you are independent. That's what I love about you, but I can see that you are lonely. You work non-stop, but what do you have to show for it? When you leave this place, what are you going home to? A cold, lonely apartment?"
"I'm fine." Y/N turned to look at her dad as the rain splattered across the windowpane. "I'm okay with being alone. I enjoy my safe space."
Y/F/N looked down at his aging hands, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why was she so stubborn, and couldn't she see that he had her best interests at heart?
"If you get married to Mr. Jackson, we can merge with them and become unstoppable."
"So, this is what you wanted," Y/N frowned. She could cry at how greedy her father could get. They were already wealthy and successful. What more could he ask for? "This is all for the company. Not because you're sick or want what's best for you."
"No," Y/F/N violently shook his head. "I want to set you up for success."
"You're contradicting yourself."
"But----."
"But nothing," Y/N chuckled darkly. The rain was hitting the window harder, and she hoped the clouds wouldn't be able to produce any more by the time she left this place. "I won't go along with this plan. How could you use your sickness to try, and persuade me?"
Y/F/N gave her a look.
"Cat got your tongue?" Y/N quirked an eyebrow.
"You will see in the future that I only want what is best for you."
"I'm sure, Dad," Y/N smiled sadly. He couldn't get it through his thick skull that she didn't want to marry. "If this is what you want from me, you already know the answer."
"Maybe I could persuade you?" Her father looked hopeful at Y/N, who sat back in her chair. She was tired and ready to go home. A place that was her comfort.
"And by doing what?" She leaned back in her chair and gave her undivided attention to her dad.
'He's here."
"Who's here?"
"Mr. Jackson," Y/F/N got up and approached the door. "Maybe he could persuade you," he finished off, and Y/N could have shitted her pants.
Why did everyone and everything go against her?