Love Expectations (Season 1 of Nata and Phillip's Romance) ✔️

16. 'I'm on it'

Phillip

Me working from Dad's office is supposed to make everyone feel like there's control at the helm. As if Dad's temporary absence is nothing more than him letting go of his tight clutch on the reigns. Those in the know play along joking about Dad finally enjoying a little rest as I assume the position of leadership I have always been destined to take.

"Phillip." Dustin, my new assistant comes through the open door. "Your 3 p.m. is here."

I tear my mind away from the research paper about the possible use of a device that the doctors can implant into Dad to help with Parkinson's. The machines we manufacture and distribute are highly regarded in the medical and research community, but I'd have to rely on someone else's expertise for Dad's intervention. If he'd even want one instead of insisting he needs no help.

"Who is it?"

"Mr. Mallard," Dustin says.

I rake my head for the name. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I'm not sure I've ever met that person.

Canceling the meeting might be best. It's probably the legal team again, insisting we update the language on more documents now that I'm signing on the dotted lines. Maybe if this were a regular transition, when all I had to worry about were work, I would've been more interested, not that the CEO job has ever been my dream. But it's Dad's legacy.

Between reading the drafts of the contract my personal lawyer has been sending for Nata and me to agree on, and persuading Dad to accept the meds the doctor recommended, work is the last thing I'm able to focus on.

"Why's he here?" My voice is so high it scrapes the ceiling.

Dustin checks the iPad in his hand. "This is something your father's assistant scheduled last week. Something about UChicago? Maybe the alumni association?"

The name clicks into place. "Professor Mallard." The internships offer I gave to Dean Kaas. I no longer have bandwidth to deal with starting a new internship program, but the guy's here. I can at least see him, schmooze, and promise something in the future. "Right. We can talk here. It'll be short."

"Sure."

Dustin brings a white-haired man in before I tighten my tie. My new assistant hasn't made any egregious mistakes, not enough for a reprimand, but plenty for my mounting irritation.

I round Dad's desk to greet the professor. His dark eyes are on the same level as mine. I'm not used to seeing people as tall as me. I reached my Dad's 5'11" by the time I was fifteen. By twenty I was the 6'4" I'm now, well over Mom's six feet, and taller than my grandparents who dies before I was old enough to ask them questions.

I extend my hand his way. "Phillip Van der Heuvel."

"Professor Mallard." We shake hands. An unsteady smile tugs at his lips. "I must confess, I was expecting to meet your father."

We walk to the desk. I point at one of the arm-chairs for Professor Mallard to sit. I take Dad's. The man's face looks younger than his completely white hair suggested at the start. "Have you worked with my dad before?"

Professor Mallard isn't looking at me. His eyes are glued to the photos of Dad, Mom, and me, Dad has around the office. "No." The shake of his head is barely there as he pivots and finds the next photo, then next. "I don't know your father, but your mother..." He finds the last photo and his eyes return to my face, as if he can figure out which facial features, I inherited from her. Most of them, has been the consensus.

I'm skinny like Mom as well. Skin-and-bones has been Mrs. Buckingham's name for me for the longest time, she still calls me that on occasion. I wish I inherited Dad wider build, but my personal trainer assures me I could gain some mass if I ever cared to pay attention to the supplements and work out more. I'm not built to be a gym-rat. After days and nights spent inside office buildings or restaurants with artificial light and air-conditioning, I'd much rather use my rare free time hiking, camping, or swimming outside.