I'm getting ready for my final days of university. I pull on high-waisted trousers, my long-sleeved black combat boots with a bit of a heel, a basic black crop top that shows just a hint of skin, and a red flannel shirt over it. I leave my hair down.
"Günaydın," I smile, greeting my aunt and my best friend, Defne. My expression hardens the moment I spot my father. I stare at him, stunned by his presence; it's been years since we last spoke.
"Günaydın, Hande. It's been a long time." My father looks me up and down with disdain.
"I was just leaving." I grab a piece of fruit and head for the door, but my father grips my arm firmly.
"Not before we talk."
"I think the last time we spoke, you made it very clear you didn't want to see me."
"I want to speak with you," he looks at my aunt and friend at the table as if they don't belong in their own home, "alone."
"You're not going to ask them to leave. I'm going out, and you're coming with me."
My father follows me to the gate. I cross my arms, signaling him to be brief. "Speak."
"I have a proposal for you. I heard you're graduating."
"Yes. It's nice to know you keep track of me through the university and not through me personally."
"I want you to come work with me."
"What?" My father had never wanted anything to do with me, and now he's offering me a job at his massive company?
"Yes. Not as an intern, but as a shareholder. As you know, you and your brother are entitled to certain percentages."
"What's in it for you?"
"The presence of my children," he smiles, but if he really wanted that, he wouldn't have done what he did. "Well, I'm retiring, and I want to propose a little competition between you and your brother to see who earns the larger share."
"I'm not interested." I head down the apartment stairs toward my motorcycle.
"You have a motorcycle?" My father looks aghast.
"You'd know that if you spoke to me. Oh, right—you forgot you had a daughter years ago."
"Hande, think carefully. I have a very good offer for you. You could help the people you love." He glances back at the house. He's right; we need the money, and this would mean stability.
"What do I have to do?"
"To start, I want to close partnerships with top architecture firms to promote our hotels and developments. And you know... I have my eye on this man: Serkan Bolat from Art Life."
I laugh in my father's face. From what I'd read in magazines, Serkan Bolat was insufferable—arrogant, conceited, and a snob, just like my brother and father.
"Sounds like someone my brother would get along with. Give it to him."
"I want you to go," my father says sternly. "Listen, if you don't want your aunt to lose that flower shop—which I know is failing—you'll do me the favor of meeting him today in three hours. It's up to you."
I look at him, dead serious. "Why now, Dad? Why did you decide to show up just now to give me a job and talk to me?" I needed to know. No matter how strong I acted, it hurt.
"Settling scores, daughter." He says nothing else, remaining enigmatic. "And Art Life will be a major part of it. But I think it's high time we started being a family again."
"You should have thought of that sooner."
I'm riding my bike, and even though I have class, I can't stop thinking about his proposal. I accelerate aimlessly through the streets. Should I go to class, even though I've already passed, and fail to concentrate? Or should I accept the offer and help the people I love?
Before I know it, I'm at his company. Even though I didn't work for him, I followed the business closely through reports he sent monthly via email. I never replied, but I always read them. Maybe he was counting on that. I also knew Art Life very well, but Serkan Bolat was a total wildcard.
"Merhaba." A short-haired secretary smiles at me; she looks incredibly stressed. I think there's still time to back out. Serkan is insufferable, I imagine.
"Merhaba, I'm here to see Serkan Bolat," I try to sound decisive and confident.
"Regarding?"
"A partnership with Sanat."
"You may go in. Through those doors, turn right, and go to the end of the hall."
"Merhaba—"
Serkan is facing away in his chair and swivels around to face me. He's with a blonde woman with straight hair and blue eyes. She was standing, showing him some papers, and stopped when she saw me. She looked at him, then looked me up and down, and left without a word. She seemed to be mocking my outfit—of course, compared to her designer clothes, my thrift-store finds didn't stand a chance.
"Merhaba, I am—" Before I can finish, Serkan raises a hand to silence me and picks up the phone.
"Deren, I told you I would only speak with the owner of the company. If he sent me an intern, I won't speak with them. This is disrespectful. Get her out of here."
I can't believe this. Finally, he looks at me.
"You may leave. Next time, bring your boss."
The secretary signals for me to go. I refuse and step closer to Serkan.
"Who do you think you are? You arrogant, spoiled, conceited, egocentric man!"
Serkan stands up. He is much taller than me and muscular. I swallow hard as he glares at me with terrifying intensity.
"Serkan Bolat. And you're an intern, right? You didn't even bring a portfolio. If you had any experience, you'd know you need one." He stares at me, both serious and curious. "What is your name?"
"You don't deserve to know my name, and you never will." He looks intrigued and irritated by my response.
"I'll repeat myself clearly: you are not capable of working in architecture. You didn't bring a portfolio, and the hysterical way you're handling this shows you have no behavioral control. What kind of company with Sanat's reputation lets this happen?"
"And you're a very proud and presumptuous person to assume I'm not capable. Honestly, how does someone as arrogant as you become so successful?" I look around, and Serkan stays quiet. "Oh, right, I remember. You didn't earn any of this. This is something your father built. I wonder if you'd be this successful without your name, your social status, and your personality? Yeah, I didn't think so."
I finish my speech and turn my back on him. As I walk down the hall, Serkan yells:
"Get this crazy woman out of here and never let her back in!"
"I would never set foot in here again anyway! Arrogant, presumptuous, spoiled daddy's boy!" I scream back.
Everyone in the office looks at me in disbelief. I stand outside the building, pacing back and forth.
"Who does he think he is? Judging someone by their clothes? I'm just as capable as he is. Idiot!" I yell at the building.
The door opens, and I try to hide behind the first bush I see. It's Serkan. He's leaving in a mega-expensive sports car.
"Oh, I'm not letting you treat me like that." I follow him for a few minutes until he stops at a hotel. I could let it go, but first, I was pissed, and second, I needed that money.
I park the bike a bit further away to avoid the insane parking fees and follow him inside. I could give up and tell my dad I won't do it, but Serkan pushed my buttons. I'm going to show him how to do business. I hide behind a sofa where I can hear him talking to the receptionist.
"Merhaba, I'm looking for Hayat Bey."
"Merhaba, he's in the restaurant."
Perfect. Before he can get to the elevator, I pull a pair of handcuffs out of my bag—handcuffs I'd taken from Defne one day as a joke and forgotten to return. I snap one cuff onto Serkan's wrist and the other onto mine.
"Are you insane?" Serkan looks at me, incredulous. "Take this off right now. I have a meeting."
He tries to keep his composure in the hotel lobby. Good. He won't make a scene.
"Not until you listen to me."
"You are problematic, seriously. Take this off before I sue you."
"Sue me, and I'll tell the journalists how I handcuffed myself to one of the richest men in Turkey. You'll be the laughingstock of every millionaire you know."
"You..."
"Lost for words?" I laugh. "That's what I thought."
"Fine. Take this off, and I'll listen. Okay? You're crazy."
"I don't have the key." I just remembered that detail. That's what happens when you're impulsive.
"WHAT?" Serkan bellows, and everyone in the hotel stares. He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I have a meeting right now. A very important one. Allah!" Serkan is turning red.
"Take me with you," I smile. It was the least I could do; there was no other way.
"No, no, no. Seriously, whoever hired you was not in their right mind."
"I technically started today," I smile at him as we step into the elevator.
"Allah, Allah... I'm controlling myself, seriously. Do not embarrass me."
"Sure thing, Robot-man."