Chapter 8 Aunt Janet?
Greg remained seated long after Carry disappeared from view.
The cafeteria noise slowly returned around him piece by piece, conversations blending back together while his barely touched breakfast sat cooling in front of him.
But he barely heard any of it. Her words kept replaying instead.
‘If you truly want me, you are going to have to win my heart.’ Not an accusation.
Not manipulation, just the Truth. And somehow that hurt worse.
He could feel it now, pulsing through him like a shockwave.
For the first time in years, Greg Garrelson realized he wasn’t the one in control of where things stood anymore.
He leaned back slowly, rubbing a hand across his face before letting out a long breath.
Veronica. Carry. Erica. Pimico. Somewhere along the line he’d convinced himself he could keep balancing all of it until the right answer became obvious.
Now everything felt like it was collapsing into one unavoidable question.
‘What do I actually want?’ He knew that he was going to need help in solving this, but who could he talk to that he hadn’t already discussed things with?
“Greg?” The voice calling him snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up slowly as Thomas approached the table carrying a manila folder tucked under one arm and a coffee in his other hand. “You look like somebody just ran over your dog,” Thomas observed as he stopped beside the table.
“Morning to you too,” Greg muttered tiredly.
Thomas pulled out the chair across from him and sat down without invitation. “Well, considering you’re staring at eggs like they personally betrayed you, I figured honesty was the better route.”
That almost pulled a laugh out of Greg—but not quite. He just gave a dismissive wave as if the eggs had betrayed him. “Maybe not the eggs, but something did.”
Thomas noticed immediately. “That bad, huh?”
Greg let out a slow breath. “Carry was just here.”
“Ooooh,” Thomas replied, leaning back slightly. “Yeah, that explains the existential crisis face.”
Greg shook his head faintly. “She didn’t yell. Didn’t accuse me. Honestly, I think that made it worse.”
“Women are terrifying when they’re calm,” Thomas nodded knowingly. “Greta does that thing where she gets quieter, and suddenly I start confessing crimes I didn’t even commit.”
Despite himself, Greg let out a short laugh through his nose. “Haa!”
“There it is,” Thomas pointed. “Still alive.” He slid the folder across the table. “Speaking of terrifying women, Mallory Jensen wants another update request on the Tashugi account revisions before the weekend. Apparently she called twice looking for you.”
Greg closed his eyes briefly. “Of course she did. I’ll bet the Teachers Union are all down her throat trying to figure out what to do with the money they’re making off the Mid-Pacific Project.”
“She specifically told me—and I quote—‘Tell Greg Garrelson if he fails to get me those numbers again, I will personally drag him back into functional adulthood.’”
Greg rubbed his forehead. “That sounds exactly like her.”
Thomas took a sip of coffee, then tilted his head slightly. “You know… for what it’s worth, you always do this when you’re lost.”
Greg looked up at him. “Do what?”
“Try to solve everything yourself until your brain catches fire.” Thomas shrugged lightly. “Back at Christian Academy Prep, Aunt Janet was the one that straightened you out afterward.”
That landed immediately. Greg sat there quietly for a second, his thoughts shifting throughout his head. ‘Of course, Aunt Janet.’ He looked up, “Thanks Thomas.”
Thomas replied absentmindedly, “Anytime.” He was thinking about the numbers they were going to have to dig through yet again, just nodding his head when it suddenly hit and he snapped up. “That face right there means I just accidentally solved your problem.”
Greg leaned back slowly, exhaling through his nose as the thought settled more firmly into place.
“…Maybe you did.” He grabbed his fork and dug into the eggs, scooping a bite into his mouth.
“We’ll finish breakfast, then head up and hit those numbers.
Janet will probably have a head start on them anyways. It is good to have her back.”
“But, you are missing Carry,” Thomas prodded.
“Yeah, but I’ve got to focus now. IF I mess this up, it’s going to all be over but the crying,” he said. “I’ll ask Molly and Lisa to give us a hand.”
The next few hours disappeared into spreadsheets, projections and revision reports.
The profit statements from Tashugi Enterprises weren’t an easy thing to decipher, but they were experts now at understanding all the reporting and making the connections to the Oil Market for the gross profit projections.
Greg sat behind his desk with his sleeves rolled up while Thomas worked from the end of his desk, sitting nearby.
Molly and Lisa moved in and out of the office carrying printouts and updated figures while the four of them rebuilt the Tashugi projections line by line.
Normally Greg thrived in this kind of work.
Today his concentration kept drifting. Carry.
Her voice. Her eyes. ‘You are going to have to win my heart.’
“Greg?” Molly asked carefully. “You want me to recalculate the Pacific overhead adjustment?”
He blinked once, pulling himself back into the room. “Yeah. Sorry. Run it against the revised shipping estimates and see where the margins stabilize.”
“You got it.”
Thomas glanced over the top of his laptop. “You’re doing it again.”
Greg sighed. “I know.”
“Look, we’ve got this. Oil is going through the roof right now, and these profits are so lucrative that we’ve got feelers going out to the Marsdens clients as part of Operation Full Court Press. I can’t wait to see how things go with the Kurile Islands project that he’s going to start in July.”
“I think all of us are looking forward to that one. Nobuko left him all the clues and the equipment. Now, it’s just up to Noboko to determine where to drill next.”
Just before lunch the final numbers were finally beginning to settle into something usable. Greg leaned back in his chair while Thomas handed him the updated packet. “This should stop Mallory from threatening bodily harm for at least twenty-four hours.”
“Optimistic,” Greg muttered as he reached for the phone on his desk. “Do you think I can catch her before she heads to lunch?”
“Should do, she’s always later for her lunch break.” Thomas smirked. “Hey, why not put this on speakerphone. I want witnesses.”
“Us too,” came the unanimous trio of PA’s – Janet – Molly – Lisa.
Greg ignored them and dialed the number for Mallory Jensen’s office at KU. The line rang twice before her voice answered briskly. “Mallory Jensen.”
“Good afternoon to you too,” Greg replied dryly.
There was a pause. “Well look who finally decided to rejoin civilization.”
Thomas immediately covered his mouth trying not to laugh. Greg rubbed his forehead. “I’ve got the revised numbers.”
“You’d better,” Mallory shot back. “The Union board has been circling me like vultures all morning.”
“They’re in your email now. Revised projections, shipping adjustments and updated Mid-Pacific revenue splits.” Silence followed for several seconds. Greg could practically hear her reviewing the files already.
“…Alright,” she admitted reluctantly. “These are actually good.”
Thomas mouthed dramatically, High praise. Greg ignored him again. “We do know what we’re doing.”
“The board would say that’s debatable,” Mallory replied immediately. Then her tone shifted slightly. “You alright, Greg? You sound tired.” That caught him off guard enough to pause. “Thomas said you’ve been off all morning when I got ahold of him earlier.”
Greg glanced toward Thomas who immediately raised both hands defensively. “Traitor,” Greg muttered.
“I heard that,” Mallory replied. “And for the record, you get weirdly quiet when something’s wrong.”
Greg leaned back slowly in his chair. “…I’ve just got a lot on my mind, including those potentials Noboko sent for the Kurile Islands project.”
Mallory was quiet for a second before speaking again. “Have you got another opportunity for us? I’m sure Janet can help me prepare the board for another investment with returns like this.” That landed harder than she probably realized.
“Not yet,” Greg admitted. “Speaking about Aunt Janet, I was actually thinking about calling her.”
“You should,” Mallory said gently now. “She’s been worried about you.”
Greg looked down briefly before nodding to himself. “She has been, huh? You think maybe I need to talk to her?”
“Well,” Mallory replied, her sharper tone returning slightly, “She’s said that Graciella said you have been in a tailspin over there. After you finish emotionally spiraling, send me the supplemental packet before five.”
Greg almost smiled. “Yes ma’am. We’ll have them in your mailbox.” The line disconnected.
Thomas leaned back in his chair. “You know, one of these days Mallory’s just gonna take over the Teachers Union by force.”
“She’s been trying since we recruited Kelly Evans,” Greg muttered as he looked down at his phone again.
Then after a moment, he scrolled through his contacts until he found the number.
Aunt Janet. He hesitated only briefly before pressing dial.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a little privacy for this call,” he said, dismissing them all. The phone rang twice.
“Well,” Janet answered warmly, “either the world is ending or my favorite nephew finally remembered I exist.”
Greg closed his eyes briefly, already feeling some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Hey Aunt Janet. Can we talk?”
“My goodness,” she replied immediately. “You sound terrible. What happened? Let me guess, Mallory is demanding more numbers?”
“That’s business as usual,” Greg replied dryly. “Not like experiments in your chemistry class that would blow up in our faces.”
That earned a laugh out of her. “There’s my boy, Greg.”