The Heir

Mark sat at his desk, going through the company's financial reports. She stood there and knocked as her heart pounded. "Come in," Mark's voice boomed. She opened the door slowly, her eyes down. "Uncle Mark, can we talk?" Mark barely glanced up from what he was doing. "What is it, Amanda?" She took a deep breath. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about Diamond Drive. I'm 25 now and thought maybe I should ... take over." Mark's face closed off. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. "Amanda, you know how complicated the business is,' Mark uttered.

"You are not ready for this responsibility," he added and continued flipping the pages of the reports on his desk. Amanda tried to push her luck one more time, "But I've been studying and learning everything I can, even before the death of my father." Amanda said weakly. "I know, Amanda. That's not enough,' Mark replied dismissively. "Running a company is not just about book-learning. It is about experience, and you don't have any." For years, Amanda had waited, but now it was slipping away again. "But Uncle, I wanted it, that's my legacy. It is my father's wish that I should have it." Mark's eyes narrowed. "Your father told me to run the business for him until you were old enough to take over. From where I am standing, that time has not yet come." Amanda's shoulders drooped. Arguing was pointless. "OK," she said quietly and turned away. But on her way back to her room, she felt like her world was on a hold. She had no control over her life, nor could she pursue her dreams; all she had were false promises of upward mobility. Later that evening, Mark's wife Lydia came to find him in the living room. "Mark, you and I need to talk about Amanda." She began. Mark looked up from his newspaper. "What about her?" "She's been increasingly insistent that she wants to take over the business," Lydia said, her voice almost quiet. "We must not allow that to happen." Mark frowned. "I know. But she's getting older. We need a better excuse. We can't keep telling her the same thing repeatedly," he responded. "What do you think, Lydia," Mark asked. Lydia leaned closer; she flashed her pale eyes. "Tell her the company's not in a good position yet. Tell her it isn't stabilized enough to take on her skills." Mark nodded slowly. "You're right. She needs to stay out of the way." The following day, Amanda approached Lydia in the kitchen; she wanted to ask again, hoping for a different answer. "Aunt Lydia, can I talk to you about the company?" Amanda said, her voice shaking slightly. I looked at her with a thin smile. "Of course, Amanda. What is it?" Aunt Lydia, about the company?' Amanda's voice broke, but she held herself. She was determined to ask whatever comes out of it. Lydia paused, her eyes narrowed slightly as she responded, "Amanda, the company is not something to worry over." She replied, pretending not to understand her question. "But Aunt Lydia, Dad wanted me to run the company; he trained me since I was 14, and I think it's time I take over." She explained, head down. Lydia sighed, slowly laying down the fruit knife. "Your father told Mark he could run the company until you are ready. Your father knew what he was doing. And I believe Mark also knows what he's doing. When the time is right, you will get it." Amanda shook her head. "But I'm old enough," she said, frustration rising in her voice. "I've been training for this for a long time." Lydia's face stiffened. Her tone turned frosty. "No!" she exclaimed. 'No, you're not ready, Amanda. You're too young to run a company like Diamond Drive. You must be more experienced and mature before taking on this role. "I've been studying business ever since I was a girl. Auntie, talk to my uncle on my behalf; I wish to take what belongs to me." She insisted. Lydia pretended a pitiful look, then hardened her face again. "It's not about studying, though, Amanda. Mark and I have agreed – the company's just not in a position for you to take over." Amanda's voice caught in her throat. 'OK. But look, you keep saying that. It's fine if you have a reason, but will you tell me why?' Lydia snapped. She turned and hit Amanda across the face hard; the sound silenced the room, "Get out of here right now!" she yelled. Amanda stumbled back; her hand flew to her cheek to touch the hot, aching slap she just received. Her eyes were wide with shock, followed by a flush of hurt. "What was that for?" she cried at Lydia, who continued to stare back at her with hatred. "You have to stop it, Amanda," Lydia snapped, "The company will never be yours. You have to accept that." Tears of pain and anger welled up in Amanda's eyes. Why did Lydia and Mark insist on keeping her from something she believed was hers? It was as if a boulder was rolled against a mountain, and she could push at it but never get nearer. "I can't accept that," Amanda whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. Lydia swiveled on her heel and walked off. Amanda stood there momentarily while her anger and despair exploded in her brain. For years, she'd harbored the hope that she'd eventually take over from Dad. She'd run his little business with the same panache and love he had. "This is just how it is; I must accept it,' she muttered. It's just the way it is. I have no choice. What do I do now?"