Chapter 20 Yarn
Chapter 20 Yarn
I blinked. Was Mr. Morose, a man that even Scarlett was scared of joking, right now? With me?
What was happening? And where has my father’s lawyer gone? This experience was becoming a bit eerie.
He frowned. “But what do you mean by heir material?”
“I mean someone sure, confident and comfortable taking space without being apologetic about it.” I paused remembering fake Nicholas and even though I hated to admit it, even after he had leveled me with a condescending glare and then tore me apart with just mere words, he was the perfect example of the person I was picturing. “I mean someone that people can aspire to follow and be like. Cold, unaffected, assertive, decisive. Someone who looks and acts the part. Someone who looks like they were born to inherit a multi billion industry like Astor Cosmetics.” I paused, grappling for the best comparison and then blurted out. “Someone like you.”
“You think I’m cold and unaffected?” He snorted. “I had cried at my last wedding anniversary when one of my daughters had crotched a sweater for me. It was her first attempt at making anything bigger than scarves and socks and it looked like it. It was an ugly yellow thing littered with uneven stitches yet I’d bawled my eyes out and none of my perfect cashmere ones can compare to it now.”
“But cashmere ones are always nicer,” I argued. “They seem to know what they are doing.” I murmured. There was also the issue of trying and failing to imagine Mr. Benedict bawling his eyes out as a result of anything. The man seemed like a fortress.
‘Iris,” when I looked at him, his gray eyes were searching mine for a brief moment before they turned back to the road. “Nobody starts out as a cashmere sweater. Do you want to know where I started out?”
I lifted one of my shoulders.
“Right here.” He spared me a glance. “I was once Mr. Astor’s driver. Freshly dropped out of college, my mom was ill and I needed to make money. You need to see me… I was worse than a badly crotched sweater. I was a trembling mess.”
I gaped. My lips were parted and if a fly was ambitious enough it could have made it between them. I couldn’t imagine the man in front of me as a mere driver even though he was currently driving.
He was a senior partner at one of the biggest law firms in New York. He was also an infamous corporate litigator and his monthly retainer cost a decent fortune. I couldn’t imagine such a man being a mere driver.
My brows must be hitting my hairline because he spared a glance at me and smirked. “Shocked?”
I shook my head, still finding words.
“Your father was the one that discovered that I might have a passion for law. He noticed that whenever he asked me to turn the radio, I always settled on legal discourse. I never even knew I wanted to be a lawyer at the time. Forget a sweater, I was just yarn,” he said with a smile. “Trust me, back then I wasn’t assertive. Just a lanky awkward nineteen year old who might have forged some part of his resume, desperate for a job.”
“Really?” I barely managed to splutter.
He nodded. “Sometimes being yarn is just enough.” He stated. “I might even go as far as saying that it can be exciting. You’re brimming with too many possibilities. You can be a hat, a sock, a sweater…”
“I can’t believe that we are using knitting analogies.” I croaked out and only then did I notice something damp and hot on my face. I was crying.
“Can I hold your hand?“ His voice was soft but somehow, it made me cry even harder.
I nodded. His hand was surprisingly warm. I didn’t know why it was a surprise.
“If you were my daughter, Iris, I’d tell you that Mr. Astor doesn’t see yarn but finished products. Instead of a liar and a train wreck of a driver, he’d seen a lawyer. And he had looked at you, seen an innate part of you that you might not even be aware of and had felt comfortable closing his eyes forever with you as his heir, that should count for something, right?” His voice was soft. “Do you know how dull and final life would be if we were all perfect. A full stop?” White flashed against tanned skin. “I don’t even wish for such a life. I’d evolve till the day I die. You should want that too.”
The rest of the ride back home was a quiet one. I was back to being his client’s daughter but I’d a feeling that his words would stay with me forever.
I wondered why I never asked in the past. Why I wasn’t a bit curious when my father had made me heir, just sure that my father had made a huge mistake and Collin was a better choice.
So what if I was yarn. Yarn could still be CEO…
Wait.. the knitting analogy needed to stop.