Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
The look in her baby-blue eyes when she spoke that sentence haunts me. The pain was evident. Her sadness was palpable. I wanted to pull her onto my lap and hold her close until she understands that she’s nothing close to a disappointment.
How could she be?
She started a business. She took her future into her own hands. The woman had the courage to come to me for a job, something that many grown men are too cowardly to try.
“Gan?” Tate asks, prompting me for a response.
“I haven’t made up my mind.”
He sighs. “Will it really hurt that much just to let her work a few hours a week?”
Maybe more than you know.
“I mean, hell. Take her wages out of my check if it’s that big of a deal to you,” he says.
“Why don’t you just hire her yourself? Buy some plants and let her go play with them at your house?”
“That would be charity, and even if she would accept it, I wouldn’t offer because it would kill her. It would make her feel incapable and shitty, and some of us don’t like doing that to other people.”
“What are you saying?”
“That you’re an asshole, but I still have hope that somewhere beneath the ice, you can find your heart.”
He’s not here, so I don’t hide my smile. You might be annoying, and I might give you shit, but you’re a good man, Tate.
“Look, I don’t love the idea of you two knowing each other,” he says.
“Well, you introduced us.”
“Under duress. But, now that it’s done, she needs this, Gannon. She’s trying so hard to grow this business that she believes in, and she just needs some help.”
I scratch the top of my head, my frustration mounting.
“Please, Gannon?”
I roll my eyes and heave a sigh, ensuring my brother knows I’m irritated. “I’ll think about it.”
“You can’t keep her on the line forever. She has to make money for her rent and if you’re going to be a complete dickhead and turn her down, she needs to know so she can find something else.” He huffs. “I’m being beckoned to the silent auction table, so I gotta go. Think about this, Gannon. Do the right thing. I know that you know what that means.”
“Goodbye, Tate.”
“Ugh. Bye.”
I end the call and immediately pull up my texts. I casually scroll through them as if I don’t know what I’m looking for. Meanwhile, my mind races.
If I keep her away from my office—from the executive level altogether—what will it hurt? It doesn’t matter that I think it’s a waste of time. Brewer Group can afford it, and God knows we blow money on more trivial things.
When I put it like that, it sounds selfish not to give in. Although I don’t give a damn what other people think of me, and I can be a selfish prick, it does seem wrong to deny her this opportunity. She’s not even asking for enough money to matter.
Besides, I’ll hardly interact with her. She can do her plant stuff downstairs and report to human resources. It’ll be fine.
It will have to be.
Me: Are you still interested in saving our plants?
Her response comes in right away.
Carys: I’ve worried about them all week.
Me: Then you really need a hobby.
Carys: Why are you texting me at eight o’clock on a Saturday night? Sounds like you need a hobby, too.
Me: I’m working. Working is my hobby.
Carys: That’s boring.
Me: That’s no way to talk to your boss.
Carys: Ooh, does that mean what I think it means?
I grin, my fingers flying over the keys.
Me: I accept your proposal.
Carys: You don’t want to negotiate?
Me: Do you?
Carys: No one ever just accepts proposals.
Me: No one ever argues when you accept proposals.
Carys: I’m one of a kind.
“You can say that again,” I mutter.
Me: Can you start Monday? Be there at nine in the morning?
I have no idea why a date and time are so important because it truly doesn’t matter. But maybe knowing when she’ll be in the office will have some unforeseen calming effect on me for the rest of the weekend. Not likely, but there’s always hope.
Carys: Absolutely. I’ll need to know how many days you want me to come because I gave you two different packages in the proposal—one for two days a week and one for three.
Me: We can hash out the details on Monday.
“No,” I say, but ignoring my sensibilities. “You can’t set this up to be alone with her already.”
Carys: Sounds great. Your office Monday morning.
Me: Yes.
“You damn fool,” I mutter.
Carys: This is so great, Gannon. Thank you SO MUCH. I owe you.
I turn my phone off and toss it on the counter before I can continue this conversation. We need to keep things clean. Straightforward. Professional.
“You should hire me because I’m passionate about what I do, and I’m going to transform the energy in your office for pennies on the dollar.”