Chapter 25
Personnel file in hand, Aaron ascended the steps to Martin’s office.
A meeting with the owner hadn’t been part of his busy agenda today, but when the boss texted and asked if you were free, it was prudent to juggle your schedule and say yes.
He reached the landing and started toward the windowed office, which gave him a clear view of the interior—and the occupant.
Unlike on his last visit, Martin wasn’t fixated on the blank wall beside his filing cabinets. He was focused on whatever was on his desk.
Good.
If his boss was busy too, this should be a short meeting.
Aaron ran the pad of his thumb along the edge of the file he’d grabbed from his office and picked up his pace.
In all likelihood, Martin was following up on the situation with Wade, confirming that all the i’s had been dotted and the t’s crossed. He may have stepped back from hands-on involvement two weeks ago, but his out-of-pattern willingness to loosen the reins had no doubt been short-lived.
At the open door, Aaron stopped. Knocked.
Martin looked up, closed the folder in front of him, and motioned toward a chair on the other side of his desk. “Come in.”
“Sorry it took me a few minutes to get here.” Aaron entered and sat. “I was in the middle of helping one of the guys pin down a hydraulic leak on the band saw.”
“You get it taken care of?”
“Yes. We figured out it was—”
Martin held up a hand. “The important thing is that the problem was addressed. You can give me the details later.”
Not his boss’s typical modus operandi, but fine. He’d go with the flow.
“Okay.” Aaron opened the file. “I assume you want an update on the situation with Wade. It took a week or so to sort everything out, but Peg and I—”
“You can give me the details later on that too. I have another business matter to discuss with you.”
Aaron closed the file. “About the new edger I researched for you?”
“No. This is much more important than a piece of equipment.” His boss leaned forward and linked his fingers on the desk. “I’ve been mulling over the conversation we had a couple of weeks ago, about career demands versus family priorities.”
Doing his best to maintain a neutral expression, Aaron remained silent. It would be too easy to put his foot in his mouth, given Martin’s rocky situation with his wife.
After several beats, his boss continued. “Do you remember asking me that day if management assistance here at the mill would ease my workload?”
Uh-oh.
Maybe he’d already put his foot in his mouth.
“Yes.”
“I’ve been mulling that over too, and I believe your idea has merit. I think creating an assistant supervisor position will do the trick.”
Aaron frowned, trying without success to fathom the logic of Martin’s idea. “I’m not certain how that will help you, and I’m more than capable of handling the supervisor role.”
Unless . . . had he messed up something?
No. His boss had been complimentary in their prior meeting.
This wasn’t adding up.
Why would Martin—
“Yes, you are, when you do it forty or more hours a week . . . but that wouldn’t be the case if you became my partner.”
He stared at Martin.
Partner?
Where had that come from?
Before he could formulate a coherent response, the other man tapped the folder he’d been perusing earlier.
“The details are in here, but I’ll give you the topline.
I always expected Lucas to join me in the company.
I now realize that’s not going to happen, and I’ve made my peace with his choice.
But I do want more time with my family, and dividing duties with a partner will give me the breathing space to make that happen.
Are you interested in teaming up with me? ”
Aaron somehow found his voice. “I might be.”
“Then take this.” He picked up the folder and held it out.
“I asked Eric Nash to put a legal agreement together. With all the high-stakes business law he practiced at that fancy firm in Portland before he moved here, I assumed a document like this would be a piece of cake for him. If we proceed, we’ll hire an assistant supervisor you can train before stepping back from the supervisor job. ”
Aaron slowly reached over and took the folder. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“I hope you say yes. But take a few days to review the terms and think it over. I realize this is a big step, as well as a long-term commitment.”
Yes, it was. From his own business experience, he could guess what would be involved. An outright equity purchase, or one spread over a set period, that would give him a share of ownership and a permanent stake in the company.
“I assume the cost, percentage ownership, long-term plans for disposition of the company, and delineation of duties are addressed in here.” He lifted the folder as his brain kicked into gear.
The hint of a smile tugged at Martin’s mouth. “Exactly the sort of comment I’d expect from a potential business partner. And yes, they are. All open to negotiation, of course.”
“I’m flattered by your offer, and I understand your motivation—but why me?”
The man’s lips contorted into a wry twist. “If you have to ask, I’ve fallen short in the communication department.
” He leaned back, rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, and steepled his fingers.
“You’re more than qualified for the job, Aaron.
You’ve got the business creds, you know the mill inside and out, and unless I’ve misread you, you like the lumber business almost as much as I do. How could I find a better partner?”
At Martin’s praise, a rush of pleasure surged through him. “I appreciate both your confidence and the opportunity.”
“Good people deserve good things. And there’s a selfish motive too. If I want my wife and son back, I have to convince them I’m serious about balancing work and family.”
“This is proof of that.” Aaron held up the folder again.
“It’s a start, anyway. Let me know if you have any questions as you review the paperwork.”
“I will.” He rose. “Good luck on the personal front.”
“A visit from Lady Luck would be welcome.” Martin straightened the paperweight on his desk. “I could also use a prayer or two.”
“Done.”
“Thanks. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Guaranteed.” Aaron grinned, tucked the folder under his arm next to the personnel file, and exited the office.
His smile remained in place as he traversed the hall, clattered down the stairs, and strode to the tiny office tucked near the grading line where he did paperwork.
Once inside, he stowed the personnel file but continued to hold the folder from Martin.
What a strange and unexpected turn of events this was.
When he’d left the corporate world behind and returned to Hope Harbor to take the supervisor position at the mill, he’d had no ambitions beyond that.
The job suited him to a T, a perfect mix of mental and physical work.
Best of all, it didn’t dominate his life.
Once he was off duty, he was free—barring an occasional emergency.
But a partnership held a lot of appeal. Sharing the duties of running the place with Martin would give them both backup and should allow them to maintain a solid work/life balance. And it would provide him with some new challenges that would keep his work fresh and interesting.
As far as he could see, it was a win-win.
Depending on the terms, obviously. And the price had to be manageable.
He played with the corner of the file.
The temptation to open it and dive in was strong.
But he had a job to do here. When he sat down to review the proposal, it deserved his full and undivided attention.
So he’d wait until tonight, after he put Isabel to bed, to read through it—and hope the offer was as good as it sounded.
He slid the folder into a drawer in his desk and let out a slow breath.
Funny how life worked.
During the last several months of her life, Olivia had become more and more vocal—and critical—in their private moments about his lack of ambition, grousing that he’d never be anything more than a blue-collar mill grunt, as she’d called him, who was letting his brain atrophy.
Yet his so-called grunt job had led to a potential partnership.
She would have been impressed.
Or not.
While she’d found the physical signs of Martin’s success notable—his grand house in particular—any work involving heavy equipment and sawdust lacked prestige in her book. The opportunity his boss had dropped into his lap would likely have produced nothing more than a shrug.
But he was happy about it, and that was all that mattered.
He closed the drawer and walked toward the door, his step lighter than it had been in a long while.
And not just because of Martin’s offer. He also had an entire evening with Devyn to look forward to.
Making this one of the best weeks he’d had in years.
Assuming the agreement Martin had drafted was reasonable, and he didn’t make any missteps either literally or figuratively on Friday with Devyn.
As the enticing aroma of Charley’s tacos wafted through the window of her Focus, tickling her nose, Devyn slowed.
Maybe she should stop for lunch. Her errands were finished, the groceries were all nonperishables that could wait to be stored, and Lauren was sharing pizza tonight with the costume committee members at Grace Christian while they altered and modified the outfits Diane had sourced from the resale shop.
And tacos would be far preferable to foraging for leftovers later at the house.
She pulled into the first available parking spot, slid from behind the wheel, and ambled over to the stand.
“Well, if it isn’t the famous ballet dancer.” Charley wiped his hands on a towel and beamed a welcoming smile at her. “You must be in need of a taco fix.”
“Guilty as charged.”
He set the towel aside and opened the cooler. “One order or two?”
“One. Lauren’s eating dinner with the costume crew tonight.”