chapter twenty-seven

 

“What’s this about?” I ask once the door to Mark’s office closes behind Jason.

They asked me if they could speak to me in private once the initial excitement wore off—not the other way around. I figured I’d talk to them at some point the second I saw them standing at Mark’s front door, but I didn’t realize it would be quite so soon. I wonder if Mark did this on purpose—invited them here, didn’t tell me or them we’d each be here...it all adds up to Mark and Reese’s team efforts to get me back to where they both must know I want to be. Even though Mark said he was done and he washed his hands of my company, he’s still making moves to put me in the driver’s seat, and I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve that aside from being born to the same parents.

Gratitude.

I think that’ll be my word for the new year.

I decide to let them do the talking since they have no idea Mark gave me FDB back yet. I’ll navigate this conversation as I would any business deal, but a brand spanking new part of me will also take the human side into consideration. These guys are—were—my best friends. They were more than just business partners to me, and they didn’t deserve the lies, the omissions, the half-truths.

The three of us stand on equal ground—no one goes behind any desks in any sort of power move. I lean on the back of Mark’s desk casually, but the two of them stand tall in front of me.

Becker clears his throat and glances at Jason, who nods just slightly. Neither of them look at me during their silent conversation, and I remember with regret I used to be at the center of those sorts of conversations with them. Now I don’t even know what they’re saying. I’m lost. Left out.

And it’s my own fault.

“What you did was really shitty, Brian. I’ve watched you lie to other people, use them, manipulate them for a long time, but you never once did that to me,” Becker begins. “At least that was what I thought. I never liked it and never supported it, but you were my best friend, so I accepted it as long as I knew you were straight with me. When it turned on me and affected my future, my well-being, my life, I couldn’t accept it anymore.”

“I get that,” I say. “And I’m sorry for withholding financial information from you about FDB. At the time, I thought I was acting with good intentions.”

Jason holds up a hand to stop me from continuing. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive what you did with Tess behind my back,” he says. They’re the first words he has said directly to me since he arrived on my brother’s front porch. “But Tess and I are in a good place now. I want to try to move past it because FDB needs you back.”

I draw in a sharp breath of surprise. “What?”

“We need you back,” Becker says, echoing Jason’s words.

“There’s a reason we formed that triangle,” Jason says. “I’m IT, Beck is creative, and you’re business. We’ve tried for the past six months to find someone who could step into your position without you there, and we’ve failed. Miserably. There’s too much knowledge in that ugly mug of yours to just hand the reigns over to someone else. Just before we took a break for Christmas, I studied the financial reports. It’s a total disaster.”

“Three contracts are due for renewal in January,” Becker continues, “and all three have threatened to terminate with us if they can’t renegotiate with you.”

“Everly, Masonite, and Dutch?” I ask, naming the three large contracts I know expire within the next month, and Becker nods. “What did they say?”

“They all said basically the same thing. They signed the contract with you, you understand their needs, and they will shop around for other companies offering solutions if they can’t get the best deal from you directly.”

“Did you tell them I no longer work there?” I ask cautiously.

Becker shakes his head. “We told them you still have a stake in the company.”

“That I was willing to give up if you guys asked me for it, but you couldn’t even be bothered to reply to my email.” I don’t try to mask the raw hurt in my voice.

“We didn’t know what to say,” Jason says. His voice is cold and hard. “You told us between the three of us, we didn’t even own the majority of our own company anymore. That was the part that pissed me off the most. I trust Mark, I do, but he had the power to do whatever the fuck he wanted with his stake and we couldn’t have stopped him.”

“I’m sorry I signed over so much control to someone who was only ever supposed to be a silent investor,” I say. This seems like my chance to mention I actually own sixty percent of the company now. The old part of me wants to hold off, to pocket the information until they beg me to come back, to swoop in and save the company, to retain our big clients. But the new part of me just wants fucking honesty, and so, in order to prove I’ve truly changed, I go that route. “But I want you to know Mark signed over his stake to me a few days ago.”

Both Jason and Becker’s heads whip over in my direction.

“What?” Becker says.

I nod. “I own sixty percent of FDB. He told me he washes his hands of the company. He won’t give us more money. We’re on our own.”

Neither of them say anything. They just stare at me with wide eyes.

“How big of a disaster are we talking?” I finally ask.

Jason clears his throat. “Pretty big.” He pulls out his phone and taps a few buttons then flashes the screen at me.

I glance at the report he opened, and I blow out a breath. “Jesus,” I mutter. FDB is back in the red, but much further into the red than I’d gotten us. And with the promise of no more money from Mark, which I fully believe this time, I’m not sure how we’ll get out of the mess.

And then I’m struck with a crazy idea.

Navigation.

An idea so crazy it just might work.

Gratitude.

“What would the two of you say to thirty-thirty-thirty and ten?” I ask.

They exchange a glance, and Jason nods. “We only have twenty percent each now,” Becker says. “So obviously thirty would be preferred. But who would the ten be?”

“The only person I know who has a one hundred percent success rate taking companies from the red back to black.” I grin. “A fixer, if you will.”

“Vivian?” Jason asks.

I nod. “I’m marrying her, and we already decided we’re moving back to Vegas. I’d like to be able to offer her a permanent position if she’s interested.”

“And if she isn’t?” Becker asks.

“Then we’ll do thirty-three-point-three-three-three percent each.”

“Where will the final point-zero-zero-one go?” the mathematical Jason asks.

I chuckle. “We’ll flip a coin for it.”

“Or whoever downs five shots of tequila first without puking,” Becker suggests with a laugh.

I laugh along with the two guys I’ve missed more than I realized. Things may not be perfect between us quite yet, and there may be a long way to go to repair the damage I caused, but at least I have the chance to fix it.

 

* * *

 

Vivian squints at the computer screen in Mark’s office. She scrolls the mouse, studies the numbers, and thinks. She switches between some tabs, studies another page of the spreadsheet, and nods a few times. She squints some more and twists her lips before flipping back to a different tab.

Becker, Jason, and I stand behind her, watching her every move, her every reaction to the latest FDB financial reports, with bated breath.

She finally swivels the chair around to face the three of us. She shakes her head and sighs. “It’s a real mess, boys.” I can tell both Jason and Becker are holding their breath beside me, and my own heart is racing as well. She pauses and clears her throat. “But I have a few ideas.”

All three of us exhale at the same time.

“You do?” Becker asks, and I just smile at her with pride. My heart is so full it practically feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.

She nods. “More than likely we’ll need to apply for a business loan to get us through the next couple months. If I take the ten percent you’re offering me so I’m part owner of the company, I can take care of the loans and Brian will be free from the financial burdens to talk to clients and ease their minds that everything is okay with FBD.”

“If?” Jason asks.

“Before any of us sign any paperwork or even verbally agree to anything, I just need to ensure this is something all three of you want,” Vivian says. Her blue eyes shine with excitement, but I only detect it because I know her so well. She’s all business, her face serious as she gives us her concerns before agreeing to anything. “Without reservation. I don’t want to step into something that already has a messy past. I want assurance you’re all willing to work together, that you’re ready to forgive the past and move forward. I really believe FDB is the way of the future, but you can’t dwell on the past if you want future success.”

I hold my breath again as my former—and possibly future—partners think through her words.

“I’m in,” Becker finally says.

“Me, too,” Jason says.

“All in,” I say.

Vivian nods and a huge smile breaks out on her lovely face. “Then congratulations, my fellow business partners.” She shakes Becker’s and Jason’s hands, and then she reaches her hand out to shake mine. I take it then pull her into me and plant a kiss on her mouth.

“Hey, none of that in the office,” Becker protests good-naturedly.

We all laugh, and it feels like the perfect way to close out the old year as we look toward navigating the future with hearts full of gratitude.

We might not have started in the right place, but we certainly ended there.