"I'm tired of you waving the carrot in front of me, then holding it out another twelve months," I admit.

He chuckles. It's loud and riles me up more. He replies, "Well, I guess your patience is about to pay off."

"Bullshit," I utter.

"Watch your language."

"Dad, I don't have time for this. What are you going to hold over my head now?" I inquire, not convinced he'll actually retire.

"I'm not holding anything over your head, son. But you've got two choices."

"Here we go," I say and turn onto the main road where my office is located.

"Son, your mother's upset. It's the holidays. You should be here with your brothers and sisters and us. Plus, you haven't seen your nieces or nephews in a while. You need to come home every now and then," he states.

"I don't like it there. There's nothing in your small town I need," I tell him for the millionth time.

He sighs. "The oil wells are here. So are the cattle and all the employees who run the ranch. Seems to me like you need that to run the corporation."

I point out, "They do their job, and I do mine, so they still have one."

"Sebastian, you have to come home for the Christmas holidays. You're going to be here December 1st, and you aren't leaving until January 1st," he informs me.

My gut dives. "No way!"

"Did I stutter?"

"I'm not coming home for a month. That's ridiculous."

He drops another bomb. "Then I guess I'll name Alexander as the new CEO on January 2nd when I announce my retirement."

I can feel the blood draining from my cheeks. I seethe, "So this is what you had up your sleeve? You know Alexander isn't anywhere near capable of doing what I do here in Dallas."

"Maybe not, but your brother understands family values. And Cartwright Enterprises was built on family values," my father says matter-of-factly.

I sarcastically laugh. "So I don't have values because I don't like to come home?"

"Part of family values is spending time with your family. And especially on the holidays."

"Dad, a lot is going on here. I can't do my job if I'm there instead of in Dallas."

"That's not true. There are video meetings and all sorts of technology nowadays, as you always point out," he throws in my face.

My gut dives further. "These meetings are better handled one-on-one."

"You can go back to Dallas for a meeting or two if I approve it. But my guess is you won't have to," he claims.

"You can't be serious," I mutter, cringing at the thought of having to spend a few days, much less a month, in the small town.

"I'm not making your decision for you. It's your choice. But, Sebastian, come home for a month and spend time with your mother and the rest of the family, or I'm naming your brother as CEO."

"That's ridiculous," I protest again.