My stomach sinks at her question. “I don’t know. Start over… For tonight, I plan to just check into a motel.”
“A motel? No way! Move here.”
“What?” She can’t be serious. She lives in New York, almost a thousand miles away.
“Our CFO retired unexpectedly, and Lucas and my dad have been interviewing people to replace him. It’s perfect timing! You’ve spent the past four years working for a construction company. You’re more qualified than anyone they’re interviewing.”
“Brianne, you’re crazy! A CFO? Me?”
“Yes, you! You’re a freaking math genius! You could move here and start fresh. Plus, you know how much I miss you. And you would love living in New York.”
She’s lost her mind. That has to be it. I can’t possibly pick up and move my entire life to the East Coast. At the same time, is it really such a crazy idea? Not to work for her family’s architecture and construction company because there’s no way they would actually hire me, but to move to New York. I’ve only been there twice, but she’s right. I did love it.
“I’m a licensed CPA in Tennessee,” I point out.
“So, you’ll transfer it to New York.” She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “I texted Lucas, and he said he can interview you tomorrow.”
“I can’t fly out there tomorrow!”
Brianne laughs. “Through video chat, silly. Although I hate the idea of you staying at a motel and am tempted to get you on a flight out tonight. I’m not sure if the company jet is in use…”
“One, I’m fine staying at a motel.” I’ve lived in worse. “Two, are you serious? He’s willing to interview me? This isn’t a pity offer, is it?”
“Savy, you’re practically the smartest person I know, and when it comes to math, you might as well be an alien. You can do math in your head quicker than I can with a calculator. You got your degree and MBA in the time it took me to get my single design degree. Sharp Architecture and Construction would be lucky to have you. This is not a pity offer. This is a smart business decision with the bonus of having one of my best friends living in the same zip code as me.”
I can’t be considering this. It’s insane. Absurd. Senseless. Yet…
“I would have to find a place to live.” New York isn’t cheap, and it’ll take time to save—
“Shut up! You’d live with me, of course! I have the extra room, and my father owns the building, so if you want to live on your own once a place opens up, you can. He would rent to you for cheap since you work for the company. And before you argue, he does it for all of our employees. There’s also a garage where you can park your vehicle. Though I would recommend you sell it since having a car here is kind of pointless. It would give you some extra cash in the bank.”
“Bri.” She has this all figured out, and I can’t think of a single reason to say no. I might not have the marriage, or the family, or the love, but at least I could have a career, which would allow me to create my own future without depending on anyone but myself. Maybe I set my expectations too high. Instead of looking for love, I should’ve been working for security. Love got me a broken heart, but a career will give me stability, which is more important.
“Eeek!” she shrieks when I don’t come up with a new argument. “It’s totally happening. You’re moving here!”
“You don’t even know if your brother and father will hire me.” She might be a part of the company, but her brother and father own the other two-thirds. Brianne focuses on what she loves—design—and leaves them to make the business decisions.
“Oh, I know they will. The interview is just a formality. What do you say?”
“I don’t know. Let me think about it. I’ll interview with your brother tomorrow and let you know.”
“Fine.” She sighs. “I want to beg, but I know this has to be your decision. If you need anything, call me. I’ll just be over here pricking my Lois and Neil voodoo dolls with needles.”
I laugh as we hang up, totally imagining her doing just that, and then once it’s quiet, I stare at my phone for a moment. Could I really do it? Move to New York? Tennessee is all I’ve ever known. It’s where I’ve lived my entire life… but at the same time, what life have I actually lived?
My screen flashes with a notification I missed while I was on the phone. I click on it, and it takes me to a post. It must be the one Brianne was talking about. It’s a picture of Lois’s ring finger with a big rock on it, and in the caption, it reads: It’s official! Neil and I are engaged! #longtimecoming
I exit out of the post and shoot a text to Brianne.
Me: If your brother thinks I’ll be a good fit, I’m in.
Then I pull my ring off my finger. Wonder how much I can pawn this for?
Chapter One
Benjamin
On most mornings, my eyes open before the alarm goes off. I look over at my phone and see it’s 5:59 a.m. Before it changes to six o’clock, I quickly switch off my alarm, preventing me from being forced to listen to the ridiculous loud buzzing sound. I’m not even sure why I set it since my brain and body know I wake up every morning at six.
Getting out of bed, I head to the bathroom to begin my daily routine. After I take a quick piss and brush my teeth, I wake Brody to get ready for his first day of school. Once I know he’s half-awake, I throw on my workout clothes and head down to the gym located on the basement level of the building where I live.
I enter the gym and grab a towel from the rack to wipe down the treadmill. Then I click on the television to watch the morning news on the big screen in front of me as I start my warm-up. Before I step it up to a run, I check my emails. How is it possible I already have forty-six new emails? I checked them before I went to bed not even three hours ago. Exhaustion sets in when I think about my lack of sleep. I always say I’m going to go to bed earlier, but then insomnia keeps me awake. Before I know it, it’s after three in the morning, and I’m prying my eyes from my laptop and forcing myself to get a few hours of shut-eye.
Scrolling through the emails, I see one from my sister with Valentine’s Day on the subject line. I click it open and quickly skim through it, noting it’s about the upcoming event happening at Lush—the restaurants/nightclubs I own. Next month is Valentine’s Day, and since Amalia oversees all the events for my clubs, she’s planning a big event to celebrate the holiday. I notice my on-site managers are copied in the email, so I ignore it, clicking on the next one. It’s from Moti, the assistant manager at the Las Vegas location, asking about the food and beverage report. Some numbers aren’t adding up, and he’d like to seek clarification. He’s emailed my dad, who is the accounting manager, but hasn’t heard back… Weird. My dad’s always on top of his shit. I forward the email to my dad, then put my phone back into my pocket. I’ll deal with the rest later.
The biggest hurdle I’ve had to overcome in the past fifteen years since I bought my first club is delegating and trusting that they’ll do their job right. I’m a firm believer that if you want something done right, you do it your damn self, so letting go of the reins has been challenging. While I’m justified in my need to manage everything myself—the mother of my son handling the birth control herself, only to lie and get pregnant, as just one example—I also understand the other side of it. When you own a half dozen nightclubs and restaurants, it’s impossible to control every detail. I can’t be everywhere at once, especially not now.