Untitled

Surely Stockholm Syndrome shouldn't suffice

Ryan's POV

"C'mon son, there must be one that catches your eye. Look at that chick - banging body."

I glance at my father in disgust over the vulgar comment about the woman 30 years younger than him.

"No. There isn't." I reply simply.

"Find one boy, or I'll make it happen."

"I don't find it necessary sir. I'm only 19." I answered shortly.

"2 years behind schedule boy! You choose one today or I will."

I look around the cafe where we sit, then back down at the uneaten eggs in front of me. Sighing deeply.

"Let's go look then."

"That's the spirit!"

My father springs up eagerly and I follow reluctantly, on our way out of the cafe someone knocks into me at full force.

I look down to see a frenzied girl, hair pulled up messily - evidently in a rush.

"Ah, shit. Sorry that was my fault." She rushes out, her pace not slowing.

"N-no worries," I mutter, trying to catch a good look of her face. "No worries at all." I continue, more to myself than her.

Once she has disappeared from view I find myself snapping back to reality, realising I had been watching her walk away for too long.

"That one." I claim, turning towards my father.

"No."

"What?" I returned dumbly, not expected to be shut down so quickly.

"What do you mean 'what'? Son, in this business a girl like her wouldn't fit. Not confident enough to be one our whor-"

"Sir!" I cut him off abruptly, "if I finally decide to find myself a partner I will not allow her to become a fucking company whore. Would you have let Mum entertain those hungry wankers? Would you?"

"Don't talk like that to me boy. You know how far I'm willing to go for respect."

"What? Are you going to kill me dad? Give the leader title to someone who isn't blood, would you be willing?" I spit, using as much venom as I could muster.

"Find someone else." Was his reply.

•••

"I told you she did." I murmur to my father who was seated across from me at the same cafe we were situated in this morning.

"Fine, so she does work here. We need to talk about how we are going to do this. It's tradition for the heir to plan it out."

Before I could tell my father my two cents about the 'tradition', the girl walks up to us, wearing a black top with matching, skinny jeans and a rich blue apron secured around her waist.

"Hi, welcome to the Bluebird cafe, are we ready to order."

I can get a proper look at her face now, she's smiling revealing a small dimple on her cheek. I feel bad about what she could soon be exposed to.

"Would you like to start with drinks?" She tries again.

"Two cokes."

"Of course." She chirps with a slight frown etched onto her face.

"Sir." I grind out. "She could be my new partner and you want to act like that around her. How do expect her to agree to anything when you're acting like that."