Page 72 of Pour Decisions
“But now I have so much time to organize stuff around here,” I say, frowning.
She laughs, cupping my face. “Oh, JD. I hope Frank gets back to you. Otherwise I feel like the house is going to get redecorated by the New Year.”
We eat dinner together on the couch, watching some terrible history “documentary” that I fact check. Katrina finds it hilarious, so I don’t stop. After we’ve cleaned up, we curl up, my hands wandering over her body. But we just kiss, taking our time and enjoying it. I don’t feel the need to rush.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, killing the moment. But it’s my email.
“It’s Frank,” I say, opening the message. I let out a breath after I open the email and quickly read it.
Hope you had a nice holiday,his email opens.To be honest, I’m surprised, but pleased. Let’s meet for coffee to talk it over. I’ll come to Jepsen. We’d love to have you.
Beingin downtown Jepsen in the middle of the day on a Tuesday feels odd these days, but I’m glad to see Frank. The café he chose isn’t busy, so I don’t feel as if people are eavesdroppingon us. A waiter comes and takes our orders, disappearing and making our coffees himself.
“You look relaxed,” Frank says with a smile.
“I haven’t slept this much in a long time.” Maybe ever.
“So your decision to quit hasn’t been weighing on you too much?” Frank’s eyebrows go up.
“Mm.” I wish Bubba were here for support, but the café isn’t dog friendly. “It has been, actually. I left abruptly, which isn’t really something I do. But I haven’t had this much time off…ever, really.”
“Makes sense.” He nods. “Can I ask why you left so abruptly? Your plans for the future sounded so concrete, like they were a done deal.”
I blow out a breath through my nose. The memory of that day still stings just as badly as it did a week ago. The pain of losing respect for the man who I once wanted to be like has left an empty gap in who I am.
“My father and I just disagreed on some extremely fundamental parts of the business. Plus, like you said, working with family is hard.” I shrug. He nods, understanding. “But I miss the company itself. What we were doing and what we could have done.”
“That’s very different than how I felt. I was so tired of doing things my dad’s way that I was glad to leave the whole thing in the past,” he says.
“I wish I could have the company back without the baggage,” I admit. “But I’d love to continue to work in the industry with products like yours.”
“Smooth transition.” Frank laughs. “But I’m glad you reached out. We’d love to have you on as a consultant for a few things.”
We talk for a few hours about what they need, and by the end of it, Frank is sending an email to his HR person to drawup a consulting contract for me. It’s a relief knowing I’ll have something to do, but it fills me with a strange ache. They’re doing a lot of things I wanted to do with Stryker Liquors, but couldn’t. And now I never will.
I wish there were a way to have both, but there isn’t. But I have this new chapter to focus on instead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
KATRINA
I should textJD before I call my mother—to have him as my moral support—but I decide against it. I need to call her and rip off the bandage so the questions will stop swirling in my head. I’m in the car, parked outside of the house, while JD is out running errands.
She hasn’t texted me since Thanksgiving where she was “disappointed” in me. Such bullshit.
I take a deep breath to tamp down my anger and dial her up.
“Trina?” Mom says.
“Hi.” I swallow.
“Oh my god, I was so worried,” she says. “I hadn’t heard from you!”
Her tone rings so hollow to me that it makes my stomach turn.
“Did you suggest that JD’s father pay off Raymond?” I ask her rather than wading through more small talk. “And tell him he could use it as leverage to get something he wanted out of JD? Which happened to be dumping me?”
Mom goes quiet for a beat too long, and it says everything.
