Page 75 of Five Years
“It’s reality for many companies. I can give you an example from last week. Odette is real. She’ll lure your father into a deal he thinks will benefit everyone. He’ll believe he’s leaving a legacy—a good, solid business for his clients. But it couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“I could never let that happen!” Leah’s voice tightened.
“Does it make you angry?”
“Yes!”
“Does it make you wish you could do something about it?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“Then there’s your answer.” Ariana’s tone turned smug. “You clearly care a lot about the business. So do something about it. Be the one to continue the legacy.”
Huh.
“I don’t know if I’m good enough,” Leah admitted.
“You have the ability to adapt and excel in any situation. It’s one of the things I used to love about you. You always had a plan. You were always three steps ahead. And you had this way of bringing people along with you. I think you need to start believing in yourself.”
Leah wanted to feel worthy of following in her father’s footsteps. But CEO of a multi-million-dollar business? She didn’t need to panic—not yet. Douglas wasn’t planning to retire in the next five years, but the inevitable day would come. Shefelt like a fish out of water, still only months in, her knowledge limited.
The question she had to ask herself: could she do it one day?
Yes.
“So...is it how you remembered?” Leah asked. “This place.”
Ariana nodded enthusiastically.
“The pizza is exactly how I remember.” The crust was thin, but not too thin––crispy, but soft enough to fold. The slice folded effortlessly in Ariana’s fingertips.
The table was cluttered with half-eaten slices and a shaker of parmesan.
“It’s weird...because...this place has always felt like a part of us. I don’t know why, but I guess I was hoping I might find something if we came back here,” Ariana exhaled through her nose, looking intently at her hands.
Leah nodded, her gaze fixed on the table. “I get that.”
The pizzeria itself was a little worn, but it was the kind of place that felt like home, where the food was always perfect, and the company wholesome. It never seemed to lose its charm.
“I never came in here with Hannah,” Ariana admitted.
Leah traced the edge of her slice with her fingers. “Why?”
“Would it be strange if I said it felt like a betrayal? This idea I had of us in my head, it was locked away in this place––our place,” there was a long pause. “When Hannah asked my recommendation for pizza, I suggested the best reviewed place on the internet, not this place.”
“The idea of us?” Leah swallowed hard. It was all she heard from what Ariana had said. She recalled the social media picture of Ariana and Hannah eating pizza, she assumed the white box was from their pizza place, but maybe she was wrong.
Ariana leaned back, nodding slowly. “Of who we used to be, of what we used to be to each other, this was a sacred space for us, filled with memories, this city was filled with memories. The first twelve months I was here, it felt like every few weeks our history caught up with me, like a ghost on every street corner, waiting and lurking, ready at any given moment to jump out and remind me of all the things I’d given up.”
The soft light in the corner flickered. The conversation slipping into deeper waters.
Leah glanced up at Ariana with a quiet sigh. “I can’t help but feel bad for Hannah.”
Ariana set her pizza slice down, folding her hands in her lap. “Don’t––”
Leah raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in her chair, unsure where the conversation was going, but willing to let it unfold.
“I...” she stopped herself, unsure if she was ready to delve into that particular topic of conversation. “I think Hannah has always liked the idea of us, more than us, if that makes sense?”
