getting in his
face “Explain why you were laying across a desk, not working and your lack of
respect for the dress code.” He spat.
“The girl was pretty and an easy target.
I’d done all my work, I didn’t think taking five minutes out of my day to enjoy
a little banter was a world ending crime and the dress code is bullshit. I
don’t see clients therefore I see no reason to wear a tie and even if I did see
clients, the fact that I was minus a tie wouldn’t reflect on my ability to do
my job.” Paul spat back. “I’m tired of you trying to put me down all the time.
I’m just as good at what I do as Tessa and Matt, perhaps even more so. I bet if
you take a good hard look at the figures, you’ll see that Norm and I have
generated far more profit in the last quarter than you three together so
perhaps you should lay off a bit and actually thank me for keeping the company
afloat.” He challenged.
Michael was astounded that one of his
children would talk to him this way. He clenched his fist, preparing to take a
swing when Paul stepped closer and he looked up into the almost black eyes of
his youngest child. That was when he noticed that he was looking up and had to
ask himself when the boy got so tall. Paul’s anger and frustration was clearly
written on his face and Michael didn’t doubt for a second that he would sorely
love to release his rage and slam his fist into his face.
Swallowing, taking a deep, calming breath,
Michael took a slight step back, knowing he wouldn’t win this fight. The boy
had parried his every move with skill and had called him out on his dubious
attempts to lay the blame at his feet. He silently commended Paul on his
courage but also knew the boy only showed his backbone as they had an audience.
Now was not the time to pursue this, he would let him have this small victory
and come at him from another angle at a later date.
“Don’t get ideas above your station boy.
You are a parasite and a burden, not financially but emotionally you pull this
family in several directions at a time, it is extremely wearing. You need to
think very carefully before you open your mouth to speak in future.”
“Huh, yeah alright, whatever you say Dad.
There’s only one emotion you have for me and we both know what that is.” Paul
answered to his father’s retreating back. He turned away and reached for his
freshly ironed shirt “Thanks Mum.”
He knew Michael wouldn’t physically attack
him unless he knew for certain that he could win which meant he wouldn’t
physically attack him unless he was sure his son was in a weakened position and
then Paul had no doubt his next hospital stay would once again be at his
fathers’ hands. Although he had the physical advantage, he was in no way as
vicious as Michael, he would defend himself but he doubted he would retaliate.
He would have to proceed cautiously now where his father was concerned. Michael
had let him walk away with this victory. When retribution came, it would be
swift and violent.
“Dude! What the fuck! You very nearly got
yourself grounded.” Matt burst out when Michael was no longer in the room.
“Matt, how about giving me a slap on the
back and congratulating me for standing up to the old bastard?” Paul answered
him. The argument had shaken him though he wouldn’t outwardly show it. He
pulled Matt’s t-shirt over his head and replaced it with his favourite shirt,
smoothing it over his body before fastening the buttons.
“We both know how stupid it was to do
that. You are going to have to work for your congratulations.” Matt grinned at
him. “Still have the pulling shirt I see?”
“Yep.”
“The pulling shirt?” Monica asked. She
wasn’t going to mention what had just happened; it had been brewing since Paul
had been home and she was simply glad it was over and no blood had been
spilled.
Paul nodded. “I love this shirt and
apparently so do the ladies.” He had spotted the shirt many months previously
and bought it
face “Explain why you were laying across a desk, not working and your lack of
respect for the dress code.” He spat.
“The girl was pretty and an easy target.
I’d done all my work, I didn’t think taking five minutes out of my day to enjoy
a little banter was a world ending crime and the dress code is bullshit. I
don’t see clients therefore I see no reason to wear a tie and even if I did see
clients, the fact that I was minus a tie wouldn’t reflect on my ability to do
my job.” Paul spat back. “I’m tired of you trying to put me down all the time.
I’m just as good at what I do as Tessa and Matt, perhaps even more so. I bet if
you take a good hard look at the figures, you’ll see that Norm and I have
generated far more profit in the last quarter than you three together so
perhaps you should lay off a bit and actually thank me for keeping the company
afloat.” He challenged.
Michael was astounded that one of his
children would talk to him this way. He clenched his fist, preparing to take a
swing when Paul stepped closer and he looked up into the almost black eyes of
his youngest child. That was when he noticed that he was looking up and had to
ask himself when the boy got so tall. Paul’s anger and frustration was clearly
written on his face and Michael didn’t doubt for a second that he would sorely
love to release his rage and slam his fist into his face.
Swallowing, taking a deep, calming breath,
Michael took a slight step back, knowing he wouldn’t win this fight. The boy
had parried his every move with skill and had called him out on his dubious
attempts to lay the blame at his feet. He silently commended Paul on his
courage but also knew the boy only showed his backbone as they had an audience.
Now was not the time to pursue this, he would let him have this small victory
and come at him from another angle at a later date.
“Don’t get ideas above your station boy.
You are a parasite and a burden, not financially but emotionally you pull this
family in several directions at a time, it is extremely wearing. You need to
think very carefully before you open your mouth to speak in future.”
“Huh, yeah alright, whatever you say Dad.
There’s only one emotion you have for me and we both know what that is.” Paul
answered to his father’s retreating back. He turned away and reached for his
freshly ironed shirt “Thanks Mum.”
He knew Michael wouldn’t physically attack
him unless he knew for certain that he could win which meant he wouldn’t
physically attack him unless he was sure his son was in a weakened position and
then Paul had no doubt his next hospital stay would once again be at his
fathers’ hands. Although he had the physical advantage, he was in no way as
vicious as Michael, he would defend himself but he doubted he would retaliate.
He would have to proceed cautiously now where his father was concerned. Michael
had let him walk away with this victory. When retribution came, it would be
swift and violent.
“Dude! What the fuck! You very nearly got
yourself grounded.” Matt burst out when Michael was no longer in the room.
“Matt, how about giving me a slap on the
back and congratulating me for standing up to the old bastard?” Paul answered
him. The argument had shaken him though he wouldn’t outwardly show it. He
pulled Matt’s t-shirt over his head and replaced it with his favourite shirt,
smoothing it over his body before fastening the buttons.
“We both know how stupid it was to do
that. You are going to have to work for your congratulations.” Matt grinned at
him. “Still have the pulling shirt I see?”
“Yep.”
“The pulling shirt?” Monica asked. She
wasn’t going to mention what had just happened; it had been brewing since Paul
had been home and she was simply glad it was over and no blood had been
spilled.
Paul nodded. “I love this shirt and
apparently so do the ladies.” He had spotted the shirt many months previously
and bought it
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