Page 32 of Pain in the Axe
Thankfully, our overpriced legal team was feeling the same way.
“My client has done nothing but cooperate,” Jessica interjected, or was that one Elizabeth? She was in her forties, with a short, dark bob and thick glasses.
Either way, she was not to be fucked with.
She held up a thick binder. “Thousands of documents have been turned over, and we’ve allowed unprecedented physical access. Without search warrants, I may add. And you haveinterviewed every employee, including Mr. Hebert, here, several times.”
Wearing a snide expression, Portnoy regarded her from across the table. “Of course, but you must realize the position we’re in.”
“And you need to realize the position I’m in,” Chloe said. She’d been mostly silent so far, letting her lawyers talk for her, but her voice was clear and strong. “As a new buyer, having made an eight-figure investment and looking to revitalize the local economy. Surely you understand what I’m trying to accomplish?”
“Yes. But—”
She held up a single manicured finger. “No buts, special agent. We’re here, and we’re cooperating. We have the same goals. No one at this table wants anything illegal occurring on my land or even in this county.”
He nodded.
“So let’s get on with it. I’d like to know what, exactly, you need from us, in detail. In the spirit of partnership, let’s just cut to the chase.”
Portnoy blinked several times, looking chastened. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning.
God, Chloe was awesome. She knew every detail, could recall specific phrases from the police reports, and was throwing numbers out confidently. She hadn’t just done her homework. She’d mentally digested the last ten years of this company’s business—both legal and illegal—and had made herself an expert.
The way she went back and forth with Portnoy sent a thrill through me. She was an active listener, taking notes, asking questions, and circling back to previous topics when relevant.
I was both annoyed and really impressed.
I’d spent my life working hard for this company, learning and absorbing it all I could, just to be held back by my father.
And that had left scars.
Ones I didn’t even realize I had until Chloe and I had taken the ATVs out and had started tossing ideas around. She listened to me in a way my father never had, and she took my decades of experience seriously.
So as much as I wanted to resent her, as angry as I wanted to be that she was here doing the job I had assumed was my birthright, I didn’t, and I couldn’t be. In fact, I was a little grateful it was her in the hot seat and not me. She was better suited to it, and she was certainly smarter than I was.
I’d spent so much time being angry about losing the company. But what if this was the best possible outcome? Not just for the business, but for me?
Perhaps the freedom I’d gained from the sale was a gift and not the punishment I’d believed it to be. And if that was the case, then what the hell was I going to do with this newfound freedom?
Chapter 9
Gus
From my living room, I surveyed the woods, taking in the view of my land with fresh eyes. My house wasn’t big, but it was beautiful. I’d built it myself, using timber I’d harvested from the acreage I’d bought when I was twenty-six.
Back then, I’d been so excited to be a landowner, and it had felt so incredible to own this little slice of the wilderness.
The house had taken years. First, I’d lived in a trailer on the property, thinking it’d take a year to build the house. But boy, was I wrong.
Building a house was like building just about anything of importance in this life—it took way longer than anticipated. It tested a person and challenged them to grow in ways they never could have imagined.
It took seven years, but eventually, I moved into my dream house. Every detail was precisely the way I’d designed it.
I didn’t want a log cabin. It was too on the nose for a professional lumberjack. Instead, I went timber style—post and beam construction, with stone accents. I made sure every piece of granite was mined here in Maine too. The first floor was anchored by a large floor-to-ceiling fireplace, and I’d spent asmall fortune on glass. There were windows everywhere—what good was it having thirty acres of forest if I couldn’t see the trees?
For a time, I thought I’d raise a family here. Build a treehouse out back for the kids and host Sunday cookouts and family flag football games.
But the opportunity never arose. Or, more accurately, I never took any of the opportunities that presented themselves. I’d always told myself it was because I was so devoted to my work and the company. However, it was becoming clearer by the day that my aversion to finding a woman I could settle down with had more to do with my ex-wife than I was willing to admit.
