Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Beckett
“Tell me something good,” my grandmother says.
Tell me something good.
I had sex with Daisy, and if I could live inside her sweet, tight pussy, I would.
As it stands, I plan to keep on having sex with her until I’ve screwed her out of my system, and I’m free to move on.
But I have a bad feeling this won’t end well and that the break won’t be so clean and simple.
Tell me something good.
I sold my company today.
I’m richer. Grayson is richer. We’re free and unencumbered, in a prime position to start a new venture.
But the company we built will be swallowed up by a huge corporation, and all but a handful of our employees will lose their jobs.
In the end, it wasn’t even our choice. Our board would have ousted us if we hadn’t agreed to the deal.
So we sold to the highest bidder—a holding company we turned down last year when they tried to buy us out but refused to negotiate or meet our terms.
Our attempts to protect our employees backfired, and we came out looking like the villains.
I flick on my turn signal and merge onto the exit ramp.
All the good things in my life are weighed down by the not-so-good. You gain one thing but lose another.
But it shouldn’t be this hard to come up with an answer to appease my grandmother. She’s not asking for much. Just one good thing. She’s been doing this since I was a teenager.
Tell me something good, Beck.
So I tell her, “Not a lot of traffic today. I got in and out of the city in record time.” Unfortunately, I got roped into a “celebratory” dinner, so I ended up leaving the city much later than I’d anticipated.
She laughs. “You’re hopeless. Who cares about the traffic? If you get stuck in traffic, you can use that time to listen to an audiobook or some good music. I’m asking about you . I want to know how you are.”
“I’m good.” And it doesn’t feel like a complete lie. “I’ve been working on the vineyard and helping out in the winery. We’re getting ready for the harvest in a few days.”
“Now we’re talking. That’s what I want to hear. You used to be so happy on that vineyard. I knew you would come around.”
No point in mentioning that Harold forced my hand. Let her think it was me.
No point in mentioning that I’m going to sell the vineyard to my father’s enemy.
And there is absolutely no point in mentioning that I’m breaking every speed limit to get back home to Daisy.
Unfortunately, I spoke too soon.
As soon as I cut the call, the traffic slows to a crawl and then grinds to a halt.