Right, so listen, Archie,” said Geoffrey Edwards, slapping a pen and a blank sheet of paper onto his desk. “Write your resignation. Right here, right now.”
“Whats this about?” The lad frowned. “Am I not doing well? I closed three deals just this month.”
“Couldve been thirty for all I care! Its downsizing restructuring Whatever. You dont fit the company anymore, simple as that.”
“Or is this about your daughter? About Emily? Ill keep seeing her regardless. Well get married, even if I have to sweep streets for a living.”
“Over my dead body. Not a chance! I wont have a skirt-chaser like you in my family. Therell be proper suitors for Emilyshes a fine girl. You stay a mile away from her!”
When Archie first joined the firm, he hadnt given a second thought to the bosss daughter. He didnt even know Emily then. Fresh out of university with top marks, he was set on building a career in property salesgood with people, sharp with deals. Geoffrey himself had recruited him after his internship. And now here he was, being strong-armed into resigning.
Fair enough, Geoffrey wasnt wrong about Archies past. Hed had his share of girlfriends, dressed well, drove a decent careligible by most standards. But marriage? Not on his mind. He was living for the moment, focused on climbing the ladder before settling down. Plenty of time for all that later.
His parents, of course, kept nudging him toward suitable girls, as his mum put it. Respectable families, but the daughters? Either lacking in looks or witssometimes both.
Take Angelica, for instance. His mum once invited her over under the pretence of finishing some work report. Pretty enough, legs that turned headsArchie was caught off guard. Sensing his interest, his mum pounced.
“Angelicas new in accounting, but everyone adores her. And her scones? Archie, youve no idea.”
“Ill bring some next time,” Angelica purred, batting her lashes. “And I make a lovely chutney”
That mention of chutney killed the mood. Archie pictured a kitchen cluttered with jars, nappies drying on a line, stew bubbling away. Suddenly, he felt suffocated. He wasnt against domesticityjust not now, not like this. Angelica was persistent, dropping off those scones, but Archie made a swift exit, citing a sudden work emergency.
There were others, like Imogen from the local supermarket. Theyd met often enough, struck up a rapport. Once, he invited her to a barbecue with a group he barely knewjust so he wouldnt be the odd one out. They had a laugh, kept seeing each other. He even took her on a work trip, a mushroom-picking outing where most colleagues brought their partners. Geoffrey approved.
“Seems a decent girl. Properly smitten with you, too. Dont dawdleladies like that dont come along often. Time to grow up, think about marriage.”
“Not planning on it,” Archie said, sealing his fate. “Were keeping things casual.”
“Casual wont last forever,” Geoffrey muttered, skewering a sausage. “Your choice, though.”
Eventually, Imogen transferred stores, and that was that. Rumor had it she married some well-off bloke. Archie shruggedno promises made.
Then came Emily. They met at a dog show, bonded over their love for Dobermans. Neither could own oneArchie was never home, and her dad was allergic. He had no clue her father was Geoffrey.
But fate had other plans. They grew closer, Archie walking her homethough never to the door. She wasnt ready for her parents to see him. Theyd say goodbye on a bench in the park, stealing kisses away from prying eyes.
Until one evening, Geoffrey stumbled upon them mid-embrace. Roared doesnt do it justice.
“You know who this is?” he bellowed at Emily, jabbing a finger at Archie.
“My fiancé,” she said simply. “Actually, Ive been meaning to introduce you”
“Weve met! Dyou know how many like you hes had? Ive met a few!”
It spiraled from there. Archie tried reasoning with him, but Geoffrey wasnt having itdragged Emily home like a child caught misbehaving.
Next day, Archie was summoned to the office and forced to resign. Pleading his love for Emily fell on deaf ears.
“Well keep seeing each other,” Archie vowed on his way out.
“Like hell,” Geoffrey scoffed, loosening his collar. “My daughter doesnt need a wastrel. And I dont need a son-in-law like you.”
“Honestly? Im not thrilled about you as a father-in-law either.”
And that was that. True to his word, Geoffrey whisked Emily awayshipped her off to his brothers in another town, cutting off all contact.
But luck struck when a relative left a phone unattended. Emily called Archie, and they plotted an escape during a supervised walk. He rented a flatsomewhere to live without her father tracking them down. A wedding could wait.
They settled in. Then came the newsEmily was pregnant. Joy all around, except, presumably, for Geoffrey. He did relent slightly, allowing his wife to visit in case Emily needed help.
When the time came, little Oliver arrived. Archie hadnt been that nervous since universitystanding outside the maternity ward, flowers in hand, surrounded by friends, his parents, and Emilys mum, who dabbed at happy tears.
Just before Emily appeared with the baby, Geoffrey materialized. He glared at Archie, grumbled:
“Got champagne and fruit in the car. Are we celebrating or what?”
Emily stepped out, spotted him, and smiled.
“I knew youd come.”
He shuffled awkwardly.
“Not for you. Here to meet my grandson. Hand him overproper introductions are due.”
And somehow, everyone laughed.
