Page 32 of Fake It Till We Fall
Because as much as I’d always thought this was what I wanted, for the first time, I wasn’t so sure.
Not with Grandma depending on me.
Not with Grayson back in my orbit.
Grayson
I satacross from my boss, Ollie Holbrook, in the cramped office in the back of the shop. It felt odd to be behind the desk, despite the fact that ever since the older man broke his hip a few years back, the office had become mine. First, unofficially, as I took over the day-to-day operations while he recovered, and then officially, when he gave me the promotion to manager.
Ollie hardly even bothered to come into the store anymore, trusting me to make the right decisions with the running of things. It was strange to see him perched on the folding chair across from what used to be his desk.
“I’m getting ready to retire, Grayson,” he said, just like that, with no preamble.
Not that I expected anything different. I’d been waiting for this conversation.
I was ready.
“It’s time for me to put this chapter behind me. It has been for a while, truth be told.”
With a nod, I smiled. “You deserve it, Ollie. More time for fishing and enjoying those grandkids of yours. Sounds good to me,” I said, despite the fact we both knew that’s exactly what he’d been doing for the last few years while I kept things running.
“You mean evenmoretime?” He laughed. “I do appreciate all your hard work all these years, Grayson,” he said. “Especially the last few. Don’t think I don’t.”
“I don’t think that at all,” I said truthfully. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to sell.”
My chest tightened, but I leaned forward, careful to keep my voice even. “I figured as much. You’ve never asked for that level of reporting before.” He nodded, and I swallowed hard, sensing my opening. “Since you’ve decided to?—”
“I have a few options, Grayson.”
“Options?”
The word landed like a stone in my gut.
“Unwinding a business like this can be complicated,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “There are lots of things to consider.”
“What kind of options are you talking about, Ollie? Because I was thinking?—”
A crash from the store pulled my attention.
Ollie and I both turned toward the door, but before I could move, a sharp knock rattled the office door.
“Uh, Gray?” Ben’s voice came muffled through the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have a bit of a situation out here.”
I closed my eyes and counted to three before I forced a steady breath. “Can it wait?”
“Not unless you want five gallons of deck stain soaking into aisle five. Tommy dropped the cans when he tried to carry both at once.”
Damn it. The kid had been told more than once not to try to carry too much in one go.
“Can you please handle it, Ben? I need to?—”
Before I could finish, another voice cut through, sharper and louder. “Does anyone work here? I’ve been waiting ten minutes to get some help with sandpaper. What kind of place is this?”
Perfect. A spillandan angry customer. Just what I needed in the middle of the most important conversation of my life. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sucked in a breath.
When I turned back to Ollie, he was watching me with the quiet, unreadable expression he’d perfected over the years. I could never tell whether he was testing me or whether he was simply amused.
