Page 101 of Winning Match
Marlowe stares at José in disbelief. His eyes twinkle in response.
“The timing is incredible and the offer…” Lou pauses, looking at José.
“I’m getting to be an old man,” José says lightly. But then, his voice turns serious. “I want reliability, credibility, and to work with people I trust. My team is expanding. There is more competition cropping up in Europe. We all need boats.”
“Our company has been family-run for a long time,” Lou picks up the thread, looking at Marlowe. “But I’m an even older man, and I’m tired. Ready to pass the baton.”
Marlowe reaches for my hand under the table. I thread our fingers together and she squeezes tightly. I can’t tell if she’s excited or nervous or overwhelmed by the direction of the conversation.
But no matter what happens next, I know she’s it for me. Even if she stays in America. Even if we have a long-distance relationship for the next couple of years. No matter what, she’s mine.
“There’s a market in Spain,” Lou says slowly. “With José’s connections and with the generous proposal he made…” Lou looks at Marlowe. “We could open a satellite office in Valencia. It would require shuffling things around regarding the organization of the company, but it’s an option, Marlowe.”
I hear the unspoken words: if you want it.
Lou and José continue to speak about the proposal, the opportunities, the future of Prescott Sail. Marlowe hangs onto every word asking thoughtful, pertinent questions.
The Sewing Circle and I clear the table, and Gladys carefully instructs me on how to cut the various pies she baked for dessert.
Once dessert concludes, José insists that he leave as he has some other business to attend to before he flies home tomorrow.
Lou gives him a look of surprise but José grins, tossing Marlowe a wink.
She dips her head in acknowledgement and gratitude. He came here for her. For us.
All because he knew. All along he knew.
After the Sewing Circle departs and the house is quiet, Marlowe faces off with her grandpa.
“You can’t be serious about my moving to Spain. A satellite office? Who would run things here?”
“We would have to hire someone if you moved,” he says simply.
Marlowe gapes. “Who?”
Lou chuckles. “They’ll never be you but I’m sure we can find someone qualified enough in the state of Rhode Island.”
I avert my gaze to hold back my laughter as Marlowe rolls her eyes.
“The choice is yours, Marlowe,” Lou explains. “You can stay here and take over as CEO or you can launch the satellite office in Spain. Either way, I think this is the best step for Prescott Sail, it just depends on where you’d like to take charge.”
Marlowe puffs out her cheeks, the wheels in her mind turning. Then, she asks softly, “What about Dad?”
That’s my cue to dip out of the room. Marlowe and her grandfather need time to discuss particulars. I have no idea where Marlowe’s head is at about the options. And as much as I want her to move to Spain to be closer to me, I want her to pick what’s in her best interest more.
My presence might cloud her judgment, or make it difficult for her to speak freely, so I thank Lou for dinner and retire to the guest bedroom he showed me to earlier.
Pulling out my phone, I heave a sigh at the thread of text messages I’ve ignored all day.
Knowing I should get the most pressing conversation out of the way, I dial Papá. It’s after one a.m. in Valencia, but I know my father will be awake, most likely waiting for my update.
“I was wondering when you would call,” he answers.
“I reached out to Javi,” I offer. “He understood. He wasn’t happy about it. At all. And I have a fine to settle. But he understood.”
“I know. Andrés and Luca stepped up for you and led the blue team on your behalf,” Papá supplies. “You have good friends, Alejandro.”
I grin. I have exceptional friends.
