The entire drive to the garage, I feel like I’m in a daze. Like I’m floating on a cloud. I think this is what people refer to as being on cloud nine, but I have no fucking clue because this is the first time I’ve ever felt anything like this.
I’m so sure nothing can sour my mood, not even the awful customers we sometimes get—until Wade opens his stupid mouth.
“I got a new job,” Wade blurts out while we’re wandering through the shop flicking on the lights.
I freeze in my tracks, positive Jaron has done the same. “What the fuck do you mean you got a new job?” I ask, turning slowly to my brother, the expression on my face murderous, no doubt.
“With an accounting firm. As an accountant. You know, the thing I went to school for,” Wade continues haughtily.
The self-satisfied smirk on his face makes me want to punch him to wipe it off.
Maybe I will.
Jaron grabs ahold of me before I make it halfway across the garage to where Wade stands in front of his office. His expression is slightly terrified.
Good.
“You didn’t even tell us you were looking for something outside the garage,” Jaron says, his voice angry.
Well, at least I’m not the only one pissed at Wade about this.
“I hate this place,” Wade growls, pointing to the floor.
His words make me reel backward in Jaron’s arms, as if my oldest brother just sucker-punched me in the gut. How can he say that? This place was Dad’s. He put his blood, sweat, and tears into this place. This garage is where my father’s heart lies, and for Wade to say he hates it, is devastating.
Both Jaron and I knew Wade didn’t like being here, and thus the basis for wanting to buy him out. I’m not sure either of us realized how vehemently he detests the place, until those words come out of his mouth, though.
“Fine,” I whisper. “We’re buying you out, then,” the words fly out of my mouth unbidden. I probably should have conferred with Jaron before divulging the plan.
“No way,” Wade scoffs, looking to Jaron for the truth.
I can feel my brow furrow with confusion at his protest, then I realize how fucking greedy my brother really is. “What did you think? You’d get another job and you’d still get a cut of the profits here?”
His face says it all. That’s exactly what he though.
“No way,” I growl. “You hardly do any work here as it is. You don’t get to walk away and expect a third of the profits.”
“That’s not how it works, Wade,” Jaron says, backing me up.
“Neither of you have the money to buy me out,” Wade sniffs, that self-satisfied smirk on his face again.
“Actually, we do,” Jaron counters.
Wade’s mouth hangs open in shock for a moment, his gaze darting between the two of us. “You’re trying to fuck me over,” he accuses.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Completely on the up and up. You’ll get a third of the value of the business. Not a penny more and not a penny less.”
“I’ve got a lawyer drawing up the paperwork now,” Jaron admits.
“You—you’ve been planning this?” Wade asks, dumbfounded. “You two conspired behind my back to take my share of the company from me?” A look of betrayal crosses his features. “Fucking hypocrites. You’re pissed at me for finding a new job when you were planning on pushing me out?”
I feel a pang of guilt at his words, he’s right. But I still don’t feel guilty enough to back down. I’m not about to watch this place tank because he doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to do the work, but wants money we could otherwise put back into the shop.
“Nobody’s taking anything from you. You’ll get paid for your third,” I attempt to calm him.
“You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you both,” Wade growls, stalking toward the door. “You can have this shithole, I’ll sign your damn papers, but don’t expect to hear from me after that.”
The door slams behind my brother, and I look to Jaron. His face shows the same expression of shock I’m sure is plastered on my own. We say nothing as we continue to go through our opening routine. Guilt begins to gnaw at me again. I keep wondering if things would have gone differently if the three of us had sat down months ago and discussed buying Wade out as an option. Then he wouldn’t have been so miserable, and we might still be on speaking terms with him after everything is all said and done.
Letting out a big sigh, I turn on the ‘open’ sign in the front window and unlock the door, ushering the first few customers inside. I hope today is busy, because I could use the distraction from my guilt-ridden thoughts.
The day speeds by in a frustrating blur of lack of information. After shuffling through papers on Wade’s desk, I find sticky notes with customer appointments, instead of entries in the computer scheduling system. I find half-finished maintenance notes jotted on scraps of paper, and worse yet, I can hardly make heads or tails of most of it.
“J, this is all fucked,” I tell Jaron after we finally flick off the ‘open’ sign and start sifting through papers on Wade’s desk.
“What do you want to do about the paperwork piece?” Jaron asks, inching toward the door—which tells me he’s got plans with Angelica tonight.
I should be pissed that he wants to stick me with all this shit tonight. But, I could always tell him we’ll figure it out in the morning. I won’t, though. It’ll probably take us weeks to sort through the clusterfuck that is Wade’s desk, but at least tonight, I can get a head start.
“Why don’t you head home,” I offer with a sigh. “From the way you’re dancing around, either you have to take a leak, or you’re itching to get out of here.”
He at least has the courtesy to look contrite. “Angelica and I are supposed to be having dinner with her brother,” he informs me, a frown on his face. “I can reschedule.”
“No,” I say, waving him off. “But you are going to help me with this shit tomorrow,” I tell him. I’m not letting him completely off the hook.
My phone chimes from my pocket and I pull it out while Jaron slips into his coat. It’s a message from Nolan asking me if I’ve got plans tonight. Of course. Because I have shit to do.
“Everything okay?” Jaron asks, peering over my shoulder at my phone.
“Yes,” I squeak quickly, flipping the phone over so he can’t see who the message is from.
His face takes on an odd expression and I wonder if he saw Nolan’s name on the screen. “Okay. If shit looks like it’s too much, just leave it and we’ll go through it together tomorrow,” he advises as he slips out the door. “Good night, Ry.”
“Good night, Jaron,” I call after him, locking the door behind him with a sigh.
Stalking back to the office formerly belonging to Wade, I flop down into the desk chair and read Nolan’s message again, then type out my reply.
I can’t tonight, I’ve got some paperwork to do at the shop.
He has to understand, he’s got a business of his own. He knows exactly what it’s like having to stay after hours to get shit done.
I survey the mess of papers in front of me. I would much rather be spending the night with Nolan, doing anything but this.
“Fucking Wade,” I growl to myself before digging in to the pile of papers and sorting them into new piles that actually make some sense.
This is going to take forever.