“Well?” I say, spinning around in a circle. “What do you think?”
I’ve got my iced caramel macchiato in one hand while the other gestures to the empty office space. Sure, the carpet has some stains that we’ll have to strategically cover with furniture. And the walls need a bit of a repaint, but the view looks out on downtown Jacksonville.
Ilmari and Caleb stand in the doorway, glancing around with confused looks on their faces.
“What am I looking at?” Mars mutters.
“If I had to guess, I’d say this is a modern art installation titled ‘Dreams Unchased,’” Caleb replies, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Okay, A, fuck you,” I say at Caleb. “You weren’t even invited. You’re officially crashing a business meeting right now.”
“Mars invited me,” he replies with a smirk.
“You invited yourself because you wanted to get out of taking Jake to the dentist,” Mars replies.
“Can you blame me?” says Caleb. “You think he’s a prima donna about his sheet thread counts? Go with him once when he has to get a cavity filled and see how quickly you wanna file for divorce.”
I just roll my eyes. Ilmari was strict with me that we only had until 10:00 a.m. to get this done because they leave for an away game this afternoon. “Guys,” I call, snapping my fingers their direction. “Focus here. Look at the space, Mars. Yes or no?”
“You haven’t explained why we’re here.”
I glance between him and Caleb. “I can never tell when you’re serious.”
“He’s always serious,” Caleb teases.
“Mars, why the hell else would I be dragging you downtown at 9:00 a.m. on a Thursday morning?” I cry, gesturing around again. “We’re picking an office space for Out of the Net.”
“That name is fucking adorable, by the way,” says Caleb, taking another sip of his coffee as he does a half-spin. “Do I know why you guys need a physical office space?”
“Uhh, maybe to conduct business out of,” I say, not even bothering to keep the incredulity from my tone. “You need a space to meet with clients, train volunteers. Not to mention that if we want to be taken seriously by local government officials or the conservation orgs, we have to have an identifiable presence. Plus, it’s just kind of nice to have a place to send the mail.”
“And you think this place is the right fit?” asks Caleb, glancing around.
“I think it’s the right price,” I correct. “And anything can be the right fit with a little polish.”
While Ryan and I were up late watching TV last night, I was feverishly looking up ideas for simple office makeovers. I’ve already got a few things ordered, and as soon as Mars gets back from this trip out to Vegas, I’ll drag him over to IKEA to help me pick out some furniture pieces.
“Trust me,” I say. “You give me a week, and you won’t even recognize this place.”
“I’d hope not,” Caleb replies.
I glare at him. “You wanna take the stairs back down to the car, or you want me to push you out this window? ‘Cause I’m not picky.”
Still wearing his smirk, he slips behind Mars, using him as a shield.
I turn my attention to our patron. “Mars, what do you think? I have all the specs right here,” I say, whipping out my phone. “I can walk down the leasing terms with you if you want. I’ve already asked the landlord for a couple adjustments. He was charging a huge fee for phone lines, and who needs that when we can just use a cellphone? Want me to email you the rental contract or—” I huff when I glance up and see he’s walked right past me and is now looking out the window. “Or I guess I can keep looking for locations,” I call over to him. “But Mars, we really need to get this ball rolling so—”
“I hired you to make these decisions, did I not?” he says at last, his tone icy.
I go still, eyeing him warily. “Yeah, but I just thought you might want to—”
He turns sharply around. “Don’t bother me with this kind of thing again, Tess. If you think it needs to be done, do it. I put you in charge for a reason.”
Even Caleb looks surprised as he stomps past us, heading for the door.
“So, you just don’t care, then?” I call after him, flapping my arm in exasperation. “You’re gonna front all this cash, and then just wash your hands of all of it?”
He stops at the door, shoulders tense, not turning around.
“I suppose you don’t care about Joey or Nancy or Cheryl either,” I shout. “No, frigid Mars Price, Mr. Man of No Freaking Words, has zero opinions about how the nonprofit he’s single-handedly funding will operate. You don’t want anything to do with any of it—”
“I can’t have anything to do with it,” he shouts, spinning around. He glares from Caleb to me. “What the hell am I going to do?” he says, glancing between us again. “I have no college education, Tess. I never even graduated secondary school before I went pro. You’re all pushing me to think about what comes next after I retire, but there is no next. I play hockey. It’s the only thing I know. I have no expertise in conservation or dune restoration. Caleb is more qualified to assist than I am,” he says with a wave of his hand. “At least he has a degree in chemistry.”
Caleb blinks at his partner. “Mars—”
“Don’t” Ilmari glares at him. “Don’t make light of this.”
“I would never,” Caleb says gently.
“I am useless to you in this endeavor,” Mars says at me. “I gave you the only thing I can offer: capital. The rest is up to you.”
“Mars, you have so many gifts, so many talents—”
“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Mars, I don’t—”
“I hired you to do the work I am wholly unqualified to do,” he says over me. “I need you to do this for me. Will you?”
Slowly, I nod.
“Good. Then, moving forward, you need not include me in every detail of your planning. Agreed?”
I nod again.
His gaze darts to Caleb. “Come. We must go.” Not waiting for Caleb’s reply, he spins on his heel and leaves the office.
Caleb glances at me, his usual asshole smirk firmly tucked away. “We knew he was stewing about something, but we didn’t know what or why. Don’t be angry with him?”
I shake my head. “No. No, never.”
“I’ll talk to him,” he says, crossing the few feet of carpet to my side. He wraps me in a side hug, kissing my temple. “You good?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s fine, Cay. Really.”
He gives me a half-smile that quickly falls. “Please just…don’t stop trying to be his friend, okay? He’ll never admit it, but he needs one.”
“We all do,” I reply.
He nods. “See you later, Tess.”
With that, he turns and follows after the brooding Finn, leaving me alone in the new head office of Out of the Net.
A few hours later, I’m leaning out the window of my car, ordering some fast-food on my way to the office supply store. A pierced kid with green hair takes my credit card, thrusting a large iced tea out the window at me. I’m juggling my drink and the bag of food as the kid tries to hand me back my card and a straw, which I promptly drop out the side of the car.
“Shit—sorry,” I call up to the kid.
He wordlessly hands me another straw as my phone starts to ring, buzzing in the cupholder.
I juggle everything into place, plopping the tea in the other cupholder and tossing my bag of food on the passenger seat. The car behind me honks, clearly incensed that they’re having to wait 3.7 seconds too long for me to move out of the way.
“Hold your fucking horses,” I shout out my window, snatching for my phone.
The name on the front of the phone glows: CHARLIE PUTNAM.
Shit, my lawyer is calling. Never a good sign.
I answer the phone, turning it on speaker. “Hey, Charlie. Can you hear me? I’m in the car on the prepaid.”
“Yeah, honey,” he calls in his thick Kentucky drawl. “I can hear you real good.”
Charlie Putnam is a peach of a man born and bred near Elizabethtown, and he has the accent to prove it. He stands all of 5’0”, and I think his bowties are surgically attached to his body. But he’s a shark in the courtroom, and he doesn’t nickel and dime me, which I appreciate.
“Did he sign yet?”
“What’s that, honey?” he says. “Oh, no, not yet. His counsel has ten days to respond to our request, remember? It’s only been five.”
I don’t even bother to let myself feel surprised or disappointed. “Why are you calling me, then? Don’t get me wrong, I love the sound of your voice,” I add, and he chuckles.
“Well, honey, it’s like this. I’m getting a lot of calls to the office demanding to know where you are and why you can’t be reached. Frankly, it’s reaching the level of harassment.”
My stomach drops out as I turn quickly into a gas station. “Oh, Charlie, I’m so sorry. I hate that you’re in the middle.” I pull up and park in front of the ice box at the end of the gas station mini mart. “What is he saying?”
“Well, he’s saying he’s gonna go to the police and declare you missing,” Charlie replies.
I huff. “That is such bullshit. Have you told him I’m not missing?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve made it clear we’ve been in regular contact.”
“And you haven’t told him where I am?”
“Of course not,” he replies. “Though he did ask me to make an offer to you. We’ll call it an informal mediation.”
I sigh, rubbing a tired hand against my temple. “What does he want, Charlie?”
“Well, he wonders if you’ll take a call from his mother.”
My heart stops. Shit, this is unexpected. “Bea wants to talk to me?”
“Oh, yes. She’s been desperate to get ahold of you too,” Charlie replies. “I’ve been asked to arrange a call.”
I stare out the windshield at the sign taped to the ice box advertising tackle bait. This could be a trick on so many levels. I could think I’m connecting to Bea and really, it’s him. I could connect with Bea but he’s in the room. They could find a way to track the call—
No.
I try and shut down those thoughts. I don’t want to act paranoid.
“When does Bea want to arrange a call?”
“I’m sure she’ll drop whatever she’s doing to take the call.”
“Do it.”
“Okay. Well, when would you like to—”
“Now,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. “I want to do it now. Call her and connect us.”
This is the only way. If we plan it out in advance, it gives Troy time to act, time to get involved. And as much as I love Bea, Troy has always been her weakness. If a single word of what I have to say gets mediated to her through him, he’ll taint it, and I’ll lose her.
She’s probably already written me off as the daughter-in-law she used to love. The loss of her respect and support hurts more than I can bear. I blink back my tears, trying to center all my heavy emotions and sink them down deep to the bottom of my chest.
“Are you sure, honey?”
“Yes. Please connect me with my mother-in-law.”
“Okay. Give me a minute to chat with Shirley, and we’ll have you on the call.”
My free hand clenches the steering wheel. “I’m ready.”
