Chapter 6
6
C arlisle poured the wine into the two glasses in front of her. Though Jane had a huge grin on her face and Carlisle had her own, it wasn't quite as carefree as it seemed.
They’d taken themselves out for a nice dinner to celebrate a big milestone. And they’d done it despite knowing it was slightly irresponsible. The milestone was great, but it wasn’t income—they still didn’t have any of that. In fact, as Carlisle thought about the bill, she realized their milestone was in how much they’d spent.
They just had a prototype . Still, the prototype looked damn near amazing. While Jane had been excited, thrilled even, at the small red kit, it had been odd for Carlisle to see her own name emblazoned across the top. The white print on the red vinyl was exactly what they had chosen. But it felt odd, knowing that it was such a good thing but it had been borne of her own worst day.
Jane had insisted it be Carlisle’s name on the logo, even though they shared the business equally. Carlisle was the one who had made the news. Jane insisted, “Your name has ‘car’ in it, and it's alliteration! ”
So they were out tonight to celebrate the first ever Carlisle's Kit.
They didn’t even really have a marketing plan, though Carlisle had been futzing around online with that. While she'd been designing and testing prototypes, Jane had still been going to work full time. She had four kids to feed. Even so, it was mostly her money tied up in the business.
Carlisle’s money had been poured into her house. Though she had savings, it hadn’t been enough to make the prototype and get the first batch mass produced and ready for sale. So, while Carlisle had contributed what she had, it was Jane who had the real money. Or she had . It was almost gone now.
Carlisle smiled and clinked her glass against her friend’s. But if this went “tits up,” as her brother liked to say, it was Jane’s small apartment over the garage that Carlisle would end up living in.
She couldn’t leave her friend in the lurch. Though Jane liked to say it wasn’t her money tied up in the business, it was Joe's. She said it made her happy to think of it that way, and that if it all went to hell? Well, she hadn’t wanted Joe’s money anyway.
But Carlisle didn't think of it as Joe’s. Just because it didn't come in a paycheck, didn't mean her friend hadn't earned it. Losing it would leave Jane without money for her kids’ colleges or . . . her stomach rolled.
“Here’s to both of us becoming millionaires.” Jane grinned wide and proud, once again toasting with chianti over the garlic bread they'd already partially decimated.
“Amen to that,” Carlisle said trying to keep her cheer up. But she'd calculated the projections. All the initial sales would have to refund the research and production of the prototypes—replacing the money they’d already sunk. She knew how many units they would have to move in order to make a million dollars and how many more they would have to make for each of them to make a million. Still, she believed it was possible .
While Jane dove in wholeheartedly, Carlisle had done it because maybe it was the only thing left to do.
“This has to work.” The words had just slipped right out and she forced the grin to cover for it. “Because if it doesn't, I have nothing.”
Oh, hell. That wasn’t supposed to come out at all.
“That's not true!” Jane's tone was chiding because, despite the grin, her best friend saw right through her. They’d met as nurses in the ER and hit it off immediately. Jane, like many other ER RNs, saw through most people’s bullshit. If you didn’t have it, you didn’t last long in Emergency work.
“You know how this goes.” Jane offered softly.
She did. But. “It's been four months.”
“It's only been four months,” Jane corrected, setting her wineglass down maybe a little too hard, but the stem didn't shatter. Neither would Jane, Carlisle knew.
While she'd always thought of herself as tough, she realized after the accident that maybe she wasn't as strong as she had believed. Jane however? Jane could, and had, handled all levels of bullshit with a grace Carlisle could not imagine possessing.
When Jane reminded her that this wasn't going to be forever, Carlisle listened even if she didn't quite believe.
“Tell me about the kids.” Carlisle had changed her usual question from “the family” to “the kids,” purposefully excluding the rat bastard.
Jane ran down the list, happily ending with baby Claire who was no longer a baby. “She’s literally into everything, everything! I was sewing and she wanted the pins. I think telling her no just makes her want to do it more.”
“Sounds about like a two year old,” Carlisle took another drink. Maybe the alcohol would help dissipate the uneasy feeling she lived with these days.
“That’s fair, but none of the others were like this. She was such a calm baby! Slept through the night early! Now this. ”
“Sounds like she was just charging her batteries.”
“Well, hell, she’s been discharging them for a year. It’s about time to wind the fuck down.” Jane took a gulp of the wine, maybe having the same thoughts Carlisle did. Jane changed the subject again. “And you? What’s new with the fam?”
There was so much Mayfair family. While Joe had been a Breathless local, Jane herself was a transplant. One of the first non-Southern women Carlisle had ever had the chance to bond with. Jane did not have the rulebook variety of manners Carlisle had been brought up on.
Carlisle was beginning to think there must be a better way, but Jane was fascinated with it. With all the cousins, the Sunday dinners, the weddings at the church and receptions at “the Club.” Carlisle indulged her.
“Christian sold his other app. I think he's made another handful of million dollars.” Even if she and Jane each made a million off this kit, she wouldn’t even be the first millionaire in her immediate family. And she’d still be woefully behind Christian.
Her oldest brother was quite the mixed bag—alternately wildly brilliant and ridiculously clueless, but nothing in between.
“Of course he did.” Jane didn’t blink twice. “But we’ll catch up to him soon! How about that twin of yours?”
Carlisle wooshed out an involuntary breath, feeling the question almost like a physical punch. “He's coming home.”
“That's exciting!” Jane knew enough to understand that Charlie coming home was an infrequent event. But this?
“He's not coming home voluntarily,” Carlisle added, watching as Jane's eyes got wide.
She’d just found out yesterday herself and she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Didn't even want to think about it. Her parents weren't handling her own turn in mental health very well, how would they handle her brother’s ?
Her dad told her to shake it off. Her mother told her to try walking or hanging out with her friends more. None of which would help. Carlisle knew that much. She’d even explained that she was an RN, educated in this field—far more than her parents—but they didn’t really listen.
The unit was sending Charlie home . No one quite knew yet what had happened. Her mother was excited. Carlisle was scared of what the Weaver family was going to find when her twin returned.
Not wanting to talk about what she didn't know, she changed the subject. “Speaking of the Mayfairs, look at that.”
Though Jane did give her the stink eye for a moment, her friend turned and looked over toward the bar where Carlisle was pointing. “Is that your cousin?”
It was. Jane didn't have to ask, everyone in town knew Harper Rose. But, Carlisle thought, she had not expected to see Harper Rose sitting at a restaurant bar of all places. Certainly not leaning in and whispering to Dane Cotton like they might be lovers.