Chapter Twenty-One
It’d been five days since Sara had left him. Ignoring his mom’s advice, he’d been convinced that Sara would regret her rash move and return to work things out, so he hadn’t groveled. In fact, they’d only spoken the day after she’d left.
“I’m sorry I left the way I did, but I felt like I had no choice.”
“You had a choice.” They both had choices in this marriage, and if she planned to cast up his shitty decisions, he’d call hers out, too.
“I guess I made it, then.”
He’d worn his heart on his sleeve long enough; now he’d hide it until the bruising healed. “I guess you did.”
In the silence that followed, his heartbeat intensified until it seemed to be pulsating in his throat. He waited for some glimmer of hope—an opening that would signal a desire to come home. He’d take any crumb she offered, but he wouldn’t make the first move. Not when she’d been the one to tear it all apart.
She finally spoke . . . more of a whisper, really. “I don’t want to argue anymore. We both deserve better. We deserve to be happy.”
“Are you happy now?”
“Not yet.”
Just like that, hope died. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind, so I won’t fight you. You want to separate? I’ll pack your things and send them to you. You want a divorce? I’ll give you whatever you need to be ‘happy.’”
“Hunter . . .”
“What? Is that wrong, too? Am I not giving you what you asked for? Sorry I’m not perfect. Sorry I can’t read your mind. Sorry that the ways that I’ve loved you haven’t been the exact ways that you’ve needed. But as insensitive as you think I’ve been this past year, at least I didn’t quit on us.” He hung up, unwilling to prolong the painful confrontation.
Unable to process the reality of his crumbling marriage.
Unprepared to face a future without Sara.
With each passing day, the truth sank in. Sara meant every word in that note, and she probably wasn’t coming back. The pain of that reality had carved near-permanent frown lines around his mouth and eyes. If his marriage were his only personal relationship in crisis, he might be able to eat or sleep.
Unfortunately, it had also been five days since he’d ousted his father as CEO. The initial thrill of one-upmanship had faded. He couldn’t put a name to the mash of emotions that hijacked his soul. The only good outcome of what he’d done was the fact that Jenna steered clear of him.
His power play had shifted the mood of the office, provoking whispers among the employees. Now that he had Pure Food’s formal letter of intent in hand, he’d be derelict if he sat on it. Besides, holding off on a board vote would only tighten the knot in his stomach.
“Are you sure you want to do this today?” Bethany handed him the stack of bound pro formas he’d requested. “You’re in control now. Why not stall until you have deal terms from King Cola?”
“I have to do right by the company, the employees, and the shareholders. If I can’t do that, I don’t deserve the title.” He didn’t look forward to facing his father today, whom he hadn’t seen since the blowup with Gentry. Colby had kept him apprised of his dad’s condition, which had neither improved nor deteriorated. Hunter had expected a call after the argument with Jenna, but his dad had gone underground. “I’ll round back with you after the meeting.”
“Good luck. I’m pulling for you. I’m sorry Sara isn’t here for support, but if things don’t go well, and you need a shoulder—”
He raised his hand. “I’ll be fine.”
A lie, but in this instance, it worked. No need for her to think he couldn’t handle himself, or to give her false hope that Sara’s absence left an opening for something more personal than their collegial rapport, if that’s even what she wanted.
He raised the stack of materials. “Here goes nothing.”
“I have faith, Hunter. CTC has to remain a Cabot family business.”
He nodded, hoping her faith would be satisfied.
Haru knocked on the doorframe. “Excuse me. Everyone’s in the conference room when you’re ready.”
He nodded sharply, then forced his feet to move. Along the way to the conference room, people watched and whispered. His father’s arrival had heralded a lot of speculation. Hunter wasn’t ashamed of the decision he’d made regarding the bylaws, only of the way he’d gone about it. He should’ve talked to his father first—another mistake to add to a growing list.
His father caught his eye through the glass wall before Hunter entered the room. He’d taken his normal seat at one end of the table, flanked by Jenna and Gentry. Hunter almost stumbled, having forgotten that he’d also be dealing with his sister today. He wondered if she even cared about the damage she’d left in her wake.
Stay calm.
“Dad,” he said upon entering the room. Standing a short distance from him, he asked, “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.” His father laid his hands flat on the table, staring at him with no small amount of resentment. “I’m surprised you invited us here so quickly after hearing from Pure.”
“Are you? And here I thought my loyalty to the family and company had been proven year after year after year.” His snappish tone could be blamed equally on his sleepless week and his own hurt feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge Gentry or Jenna.
At least he had Colby on his side. She and Alec had been checking in on him daily, quietly reminding him he wasn’t completely alone. He kissed her hello and took the seat at the opposite end of the table, facing his father.
“Let’s just vote so we can leave,” Jenna said.
“Hold up.” He kept his gaze on his dad. “There’s more to examine than just looking at Pure’s offer.”
“Is there?” His dad sat back and crossed his arms. “I’m almost afraid to learn what else you’ve been up to this week.”
Hunter met his father’s leery gaze.
“As you know, I’ve no interest in selling. I believe in this company and its future.” He took a breath, looking at Colby because he needed to see a friendly face.
“We’ve all heard this song and dance,” Jenna said, but his dad covered her hand with his to back her down.
“Last year I’d brought up the idea of ready-made tea, but you put me off. For the past several few weeks, I’ve done additional research and had some off-book discussions with King Cola. I haven’t had enough time to nail down specifics, but KC is exploring the possibility of a partnership of its bottling division with CTC to produce ready-to-drink iced tea.”
His dad waved him off. “Hunter, a whole new product line is a monumental undertaking.”
“It would be if we were going it alone, but pairing up with a bottler and its distribution infrastructure makes it less risky. The compounded annual growth rate of this billion-dollar market in the past five years was sixteen percent. In North America, eighty percent of tea drinkers drink iced tea. This continent is also the fastest-growing region for ready-to-drink tea. Doing this will not only diversify CTC’s revenue stream but also give us a big boost in a high-growth market.”
“Why would King Cola be interested?” Jenna asked.
“The soda market is losing ground due to increased health concerns and shifts in consumer habits. Noncarbonated drinks, like water and sports drinks, are gaining market share. King Cola doesn’t have a tea product or expertise, while we have a nationally recognized name and beloved flavors. It’s a perfect marriage.” Not long ago he believed himself an expert on perfect marriages, he thought dimly.
“It’s still risky. The Pure deal is money in our pockets today.” His dad leaned forward. “As you’ve made abundantly clear, I’m not in a position to lead this company, am I? So why should I care about this idea?”
“Everyone, including me, hopes you’ll be back here soon.” That was an undeniable fact. “If you don’t want to come back in a full-time capacity, I’m ready to lead, Dad. Let me take us to the next level.”
Jenna rolled her eyes.
“That’s unnecessary, Jenna.” Colby leaned forward. “Hunter’s dedicated himself to this place and its future. We owe it to him to consider his plan without dismissive eye rolls and pouting.”
“Thank you.” Hunter squeezed her hand. “After Pure’s due diligence review—”
“Which you sabotaged,” Jenna interrupted.
He ignored her, keeping his gaze on his father. “Pure has revised its offer down to one hundred twenty million. You said at the outset that, if they materially changed the initial offer of one hundred forty, it wouldn’t be a slam dunk. And now, if we hold on to the company and make a deal with King Cola, the value of the company should increase by twenty percent in a few years, maybe more. Why let Pure buy us cheap and waltz off with that value?” He passed out the projections and analyses he and Bethany had put together, which included a side-by-side comparison with the Pure deal. “Take a few minutes and look at these numbers.”
He noticed Gentry eyeing him, but she didn’t flip through the spreadsheets. She wouldn’t be able to read them, anyway, so he supposed it didn’t matter.
He met her gaze and held it, hiding any emotion. He hated the fact that he needed her today, but she was the tiebreaker. He wanted this so badly he was tempted to kiss her ass. Then he thought of Sara’s pain—of his failed marriage—and he couldn’t do it.
“I think this is an exciting idea.” Colby closed the binder. “I also have complete faith that Hunter can run the company.”
“I don’t.” Jenna’s nostrils flared. “This stunt he pulled this week shows a certain immaturity, don’t you think?”
“It could’ve been handled with more sensitivity, but his rationale wasn’t flawed. If I were general counsel and unconcerned with familial relationships, I’d have advised that he follow the bylaws.” Colby grimaced. “Sorry, Dad. But the company needs a leader, and you aren’t well enough now.”
His father nodded at Colby, then sighed and looked at Hunter. “Let’s be truthful. Our family has had a rough time lately. I’ve been sick, Gentry’s decisions have had some harsh consequences, and now your marriage is in trouble. I’d like to think that we’ll work through these issues, heal, and move on at some point—sooner rather than later. But right now, the wounds are fresh. Given what’s going on with Sara and you, I’m not so sure you’re in the right frame of mind to lead the business, let alone lead it through a major overhaul like this King Cola deal would require. And that’s the other thing. This isn’t a done deal. They’re interested, but there will be due diligence and other negotiations that need to fall into place. If we pass on Pure and the KC deal falls through, then what?”
“I’m not just saying this because it’s what I want, but I really don’t think the deal will fall through. King’s highly interested, but it’s a huge company, and just like with Pure, things can’t move at lightning speed. Even if it does fall apart, there are other soda companies and bottlers out there. It’s a solid idea, and we’re in a perfect position to pitch it,” Hunter responded.
The room fell silent for what felt like a year. His father’s gaze wandered out the window. Jenna impatiently tapped a pencil eraser against the tabletop. Gentry’s head bowed, but her forehead wrinkled as if she was concentrating. Colby’s wan smile indicated she was bracing for his inevitable disappointment.
He dad heaved a long sigh, then met Hunter’s gaze. “I’ve always been proud of you and your work. Of your commitment here and elsewhere in your life. I know I’ve made you promises, and that I’ve let you down. I’m sorry about that . . .” For a moment, elation filled Hunter’s lungs; then he saw his father rub his forehead. “But at the end of the day, I still think the safest move is to sell. Who the hell knows where the economy will be in a year or three? Right now we can all walk away with the money to do whatever we want. You can start something of your own, Hunter. Build your own legacy.”
“So that’s it.” He couldn’t feel his body. “You’re voting to sell?”
“I’m sorry, but yes. I’m voting to sell.” His father’s gaze dropped to the table.
“I vote to keep the company.” Colby pressed her lips together.
Jenna looked right at him. “Sell.”
So this was it. Just as he’d thought when he first walked through the doors. All the work he’d done meant nothing. The sacrifices he’d made, and their costs, for nothing. Unexpectedly, he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Jenna asked.
He lifted his pro forma. “This is probably the biggest and most complex business decision we’ve ever had to make as a group, and the deciding vote goes to the person in the room least qualified to analyze the options. The one person without a full-time job, who now, because she’s about to be a mom, has a very personal motivation for wanting a windfall of cash.” He let the binder fall before he stood and paced in a tight circle. “How does that make sense? In what kind of crazy universe should all my hard work and talent and knowledge count for nothing more than Gentry’s opinion?”
“She owns as much stock as you do,” Jenna snapped.
“I don’t have an issue with that, but at least admit that she’s the least qualified person in the room to make this decision.”
“Stop it, Hunter.” His dad coughed, and everyone turned to him. “We’re not going to continue to tear into each other. I’ve always taught you that fair doesn’t mean equal. I understand your frustration, and obviously you are one of the most qualified people in this room when it comes to understanding this industry and our company. But both your sisters will be affected by the outcome, and they both get a say. We’ve heard from Colby. Now it’s time for Gentry to make a decision.”
Gentry visibly shrank in her seat. He had to admit her lack of attitude today surprised him. He held his breath, waiting for the ax to fall.
“If we don’t sell, I still get dividends like always, right?” Gentry asked their dad.
“Of course.”
She looked at Hunter. “And those payments should go up if you’re able to branch out into the iced tea business?”
“Yes.” He stood completely still, every hair on his body vibrating in anticipation of her decision.
“You and Colby both have said that you think I’m good at PR, and launching a new product line would require a lot of marketing and PR, right?”
He rocked back on his heels, surprised. “Yes.”
“Would you consider giving me a full-time job in the marketing department?” She sat up a bit, not looking at her mother, whose eyes had gone as wide as sand dollars.
“Would you be willing to start at the bottom—part-time, until you finish your degree—like I did?” Hunter folded his arms, unsure of whether he really wanted her here every day. He was still angry, and now he’d have to watch her belly grow with the child who was supposed to be his and Sara’s. But she did own part of the company, and it might be a small price to pay to keep it in the family.
“As long as you don’t plan to shove me in a storage closet.” Her customary smirk popped into place for a second, but then she must’ve thought better of it.
“You’d start in a workstation in the marketing department, just like your mom did.” He remembered Jenna from way back then, when he’d been a kid playing on the floor by his dad’s desk, pretending to be a businessman.
“Then I vote for your plan.” She looked at her shell-shocked parents. “Sorry.”
No one spoke for a moment.
He ran his hands through his hair because he didn’t know what else to do. “Thank you.”
Colby grinned. Jenna shook her head. But most puzzling was the way his dad looked at Gentry with a proud smile.
“Well, well. I didn’t expect this. Who knew you could negotiate?” His father patted Gentry’s hand before looking at Hunter with a shrug. “I guess you have your answer.”
He felt disembodied, because deep down he’d been expecting the worst despite believing with every fiber of his being that this was the right call.
“Dad, I truly hope that you’ll be back, so together we can take this company ahead like we’d always planned.”
His dad pushed himself up, wincing and rubbing his knee. “We’ll see. We’ll see.”
Jenna sat still, as if paralyzed by her disappointment. His dad tapped her shoulder. “Come on, don’t look like that. Maybe you should thank Hunter for the fact that he’s created an opportunity for you to work with your daughter.”
“I can’t believe this.” She looked at her husband with dismay and displeasure. It would take her a while to process the loss.
“Gentry, I’ll let Ross Hardy in HR know to expect you tomorrow morning. Jenna, why don’t you think about where Gentry should start, and get together with Ross to discuss it.”
She managed a cordial tone. “I’ll call him later, after I get your father home and settled.”
Hunter walked around the table and extended his hand to his dad. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I promise I won’t fail. I’ll make you happy that it turned out this way.”
“I hope so, Hunter.” His dad pulled him into a hug. “Maybe this will be a first step towards bringing the family back together.”
Hunter patted his dad’s back, still not quite reconciled with forgiving Gentry, and unconvinced that he and Jenna could ever be completely civil.
Colby gave him a big hug on her way out the door. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Me too.” He hugged her. “Should we celebrate at Gab-n-Eat?”
“I wish, but I have to get to the restaurant now. I’ll talk to you later.” She waved and followed their dad and Jenna into the hall.
Gentry stood a distance from him. “Just so you know, I didn’t do this so you’d forgive me. I know you’re pissed, and maybe you’ll never be able to look at me without being mad, but I won’t keep defending myself. I voted like I did for myself, and also because I think Sara was right when she said this place is your baby. It is, and you deserve to keep it, just like I deserve to keep mine.”
In typical fashion, she breezed past him, leaving him standing there with his mouth hanging open.
When had Sara said that? Probably while complaining about his schedule while Gentry was living with them.
He strolled back to his office, his mind racing with thoughts about his victory, his sister, his wife. He should be popping champagne instead of sitting alone at his desk staring at his fish. He stroked the wood desktop with his palms and glanced around his office. His second home. He’d always liked it here, but today, at the pinnacle of his career, it just felt big and empty.
He picked up the phone and called Sara, but it went to voice mail. He hung up without leaving a message. She’d hardly be pleased to learn about what’d he’d done this week. She hated his commitment to CTC and might even take his news as some kind of snub.
Sara rolled up her yoga mat and wiped her neck with a towel. “That felt great. I’m glad I came.”
“Me too.” Lisa nodded, tossing her towel in the wire basket in the corner of the locker room before taking hold of Sara’s hand and dragging her to the fitness center’s café. “It’s great having you around. Not as lonely.”
“Lonely? You always act like you’re having the time of your life.”
“‘Fake it till you make it,’ sis.” She paused to order two peach-oat smoothies, then resumed the conversation. “Oh, don’t look at me with cow eyes. I’m fine. I mean, I live in a house that’s smaller than your closet, and I haven’t had sex in three months, but I’m fine. I like my freedom. I can pick up and go wherever I want, whenever I want. Maybe you should get a tricked-out tiny home and we could travel together!”
Sara laughed. “No, thanks. I don’t need much, but unlike you, I’m not a nomad. I like a home. A place. If I stay, I’ll need to start thinking about that, and about going back to work.”
Lisa smirked, shaking her head. “I thought you’d finally seen the light and ditched the nine-to-five life.”
“I don’t like having too much free time on my hands.” She thought about Colby’s foundation and the Angel House. Leaving without warning or goodbyes hadn’t been her finest hour. Ty’s face flickered painfully. She sipped the smoothie, determined to focus on the present, and remembered her mom’s plea. “Maybe you should consider getting a second job. It’s a great way to meet new people. As for me, it’d be an important step in starting over.”
She said those words but couldn’t imagine a life, or family, that didn’t include Hunter. Each day they’d been apart, seconds took hours to pass. He’d been so angry when they’d spoken on Friday. Almost taunting her with her hasty decision . . . not that he’d been completely wrong.
She’d thought to call since then, but each time she’d chickened out. Had she secretly hoped he’d miss her so much he’d come down here to drag her back and promise to find balance? Just like her sister, Sara was faking it, too.
“Yoo-hoo . . .” Lisa snapped her fingers in front of Sara’s face. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” She shook her head to clear the fog. “Let’s get back to you. How can you be lonely with Mom, Dad, Mimi, and her kids nearby? Daisy and Betsy are the most adorable things ever.”
“Mom and Dad lecture—you know, they talk about something like they’re having a discussion, but really it’s all about trying to make a point. Usually a point about something I’m doing wrong.” Lisa pulled a lemon face. “I thought living at Mimi’s would be fun, but she’s never up for anything, always complaining about money or tied up with the kids.”
Sara swiveled her stool and shot her sister a wry look. “Maybe you shouldn’t complain about Mimi while you’re parked on her property.”
“I’m not freeloading. I babysit for her sometimes, and I’ve bought the girls some stuff, too. I’m just as hard up for money as she is, though, but I have a better attitude.” She then waved Sara off. “You can’t relate because you’re rolling in money.”
“Not really.” Sara would trade that wealth for a family in a heartbeat. “Hunter’s the one with money.”
“You don’t have a prenup. You could walk away with half of everything. How awesome is that? You’d be a super-rich divorcee.”
Blood money. She had no interest in making off with the profits from the very entity that had caused so many fights with her husband. “No. I’d just take my own 401(k).”
Lisa’s jaw dropped. “That’s ridiculous. You were with the guy for fourteen years. You moved away from home, took care of him and his family, waited to have kids, et cetera, all because of him. He owes you.”
“He doesn’t owe me. We made those choices together. We were young and wanted to enjoy our marriage before bringing kids into it. We didn’t know we’d miss our chance. Trust me, I wanted to marry him. I loved him, and I’m not out to hurt him.”
“And to think you were always the genius of the family,” Lisa teased. She slurped the bottom of her smoothie cup. “You know, if you ditch him, you’ll be better off. I never liked him.”
“What?” Sara’s brows pinched.
Lisa held up her hands. “Okay, okay. That’s a bit overstated. I thought he was bossy and arrogant.”
“He’s not bossy.” She pushed her half-empty cup away. “He’s assertive and confident.”
“A know-it-all.” Lisa shrugged one shoulder.
“Informed,” Sara insisted.
“A geek with those retro specs.” Lisa put her thumbs and index fingers together and peered through the circles like they were eyeglasses.
“He’s gorgeous, and he rocks those vintage glasses.” No one—no one—would look at Hunter and see anything less than sheer beauty. Was her sister blind?
“Huh.” Lisa licked her straw to get the last drop of smoothie. “Well, if he’s so great, then what the hell are you doing here?”
Sara met Lisa’s wry gaze before glancing at the ground. “I’m not sure.”
Lisa tossed her cup in the trash and gestured toward the door. On their way to the car, she said, “Before you go starting a new life thinking it’s going to be so much better, maybe you ought to make sure you’re really done with the one you’re leaving behind. If you’re gung ho about going back to the nine-to-five life, why not work for Cabot Tea? At least that way you’d see Hunter more and be helping him build the legacy.”
Sara hadn’t considered working at CTC since college. When Hunter had convinced her to move to Portland after graduation, his family had offered her a job. She’d turned it down because, although she’d been qualified, it felt like nepotism. She’d needed to prove—to herself and them—that she could get a great job without the Cabots’ help.
As the years had worn on, she’d been thankful for that decision. Had she worked in marketing for Jenna, she’d have been in the middle of turf battles between her boss and her husband.
Now her marriage hung in the balance, and if working at CTC might help her and Hunter reconnect, maybe it was worth consideration—assuming Hunter was able to stop the sale, of course. And assuming that he’d welcome her back.
Did she want to go back?
When they got in the car, Sara pulled her phone out of the glove box and noticed a missed call. Hunter. He hadn’t left a message. Still, he’d called. Her leg bounced nervously the whole drive home. When Lisa dropped her off, she ran into the house, grateful that her parents were still at work.
She went to her room and sat, cross-legged, on the rosebud quilt and stared at the phone. Two yoga breaths later, she dialed her husband.
“Is everything all right?” His familiar husky voice sounded so wonderful that her eyes started to sting.
“Yes. I just . . . I saw that you called.”
“Oh, that.” There was some kind of shuffling on the other end of the line. “It’s nothing.”
“A pocket dial?” Her shoulders slumped and she frowned.
“No. I just, well . . . I did it. CTC won’t be sold, and I have a great plan for expansion.”
She smiled, surprised by her own elation. As much as she’d resented his obsession with it all, she was glad he hadn’t failed. “Congratulations. I’m not completely surprised. There’s never been any goal you’ve set that you haven’t achieved.”
He didn’t respond immediately, then said, “We both know that’s not true.”
She supposed he meant the marriage, or possibly the adoption, but was too afraid to ask. She wished she could see his face. “Well, I know you might not believe this, but I’m glad for you. How will you celebrate?”
No doubt Bethany would be full of praise and eager to “celebrate.” Would he turn to her, now that Sara had gone? The thought wrought another frown.
“Funny thing about that. I don’t feel much like celebrating by myself. Besides, I had to make a deal with the devil, so it’s not all cupcakes and confetti.”
“Oh? What did you promise Jenna?”
“Not Jenna.” He cleared his throat. “Her spawn.”
“Your sister?”
“Yes, my sister, who surprised everyone by negotiating her vote in exchange for a PR job.”
“Wow!” Sara wondered if her plea had swayed Gentry’s vote. She hoped so. She’d like to think that, in some way, she’d ultimately supported Hunter even though he might never know it.
“Even Jenna was speechless.” He chuckled. “That was priceless.”
“How’s your dad? I heard you removed him as CEO.”
“Temporarily.” She heard the defensiveness in his voice. “I stepped up while he’s unable to do his job.”
“I can’t imagine he sees it that way.”
“Listen, let’s not bicker about the company.” He paused. “Can we talk about us?”
“Of course.”
He cleared his throat, then fell silent. “Actually, it’s been a week. I’d rather talk in person. I know you’re hurt and angry, and I get that you needed space, but let’s not end everything with a quick note and a long-distance phone call. Let’s really talk. Can you come home?”
Home. Hearing that word roll off his tongue sent longing tumbling through her. She fingered the pendant around her neck, the engraved coordinates beneath her thumb beckoning.
“Sara?”
If she wanted to end the marriage, she should stay put and send for her things. “I’m here.”
“Is that a no?”
Would he be open to counseling? Might working together help? “I’ll come home . . . to talk.”
“Great. That’s great. I’ll get you a plane ticket so you don’t have to drive.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll drive.” She’d need her car to gather her things in the event she ended up leaving for good. She didn’t say that, though. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that, after all. Maybe this time apart had hit a reset button.
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s a weekday. You have to work.”
“It’s a long drive. I’ll be home before you get there, I promise.”
She smiled. “Okay. I’ll leave around eight, so I’ll be there around five or so.”
“I’ll be waiting.”