Chapter Twelve - Fletcher

“We’re meeting with the Capellos at 7,” Dad said. I looked up from my phone to the nonchalance on his face. We’d spent the entire morning scheduling meetings with potential buyers, and pickups with suppliers. It wasn’t as if I needed a reminder about tonight. I’d been dreading it all week. “I’m not looking forward to this,” I said. Dad didn’t look up from his phone when he said, “You’ll get over it. It’s better to deal with it now.” I stood and glanced at my watch. “I can’t imagine it’s going to go well. Do you think the Capellos will retaliate?” Dad put his phone down. “And if they do? I’m not afraid of Georgie Capello, son—” “It’s not about being afraid but starting unnecessary problems. We’re taking on new suppliers and don’t need anyone getting in our way." Dad’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do, Son. We’re getting this meeting over with and we’re letting them know you’re married. The deal was if you weren’t married by thirty-five. You are. Deal done.”