32. Chapter 32
thirty-two
M ax pulled into the pub’s parking lot, grabbed his bag, and headed for the door. Although he still hadn’t followed his usual morning routine, he had put on pants with a zipper and left his house. He would have argued that he was at work because he wanted to be, but that would be a lie. He’d much rather be working from his couch, but this grand opening had become a total fucking dumpster fire, so he had no choice.
At least everyone in the building, and his personal life for that matter, sensed that he was in a foul mood and avoided him as though he were a murderer wielding a machete. Which was why he was shocked when a text came through his phone.
A glimmer of hope filled his heart. Maybe it was Willow telling him she was coming back. He drew in a long breath and held it as he pushed the hope away.
Far, far away.
She wasn’t coming back. He knew it, and he needed to accept it, even if the thought made a brick out of his stomach.
He ignored the text and carried on, but another text came.
Then another.
And another.
“Someone had better be dead,” he muttered as he punched in his PIN on the lock screen. When he saw it was Cara, he rolled his eyes and opened the conversation. Maybe she needed rescuing from that fucking mullet guy again.
He read through all the texts and rolled his eyes again when he saw she wasn’t in trouble. She was on a mission to “save” him or some fucking thing:
I figured out your problem. And since I know you HATE heart-to-hearts, I’m sending you an email.
Don’t ignore it.
I’m serious.
I’m not talking to you, or seeing you, until you read it.
The last text stung a little, so he opened his email and clicked on the link, which led him to an article on a psychology website where she was diagnosing him with some ridiculous label that supposedly explained how his traumatic childhood was to blame for his current situation. He sighed and clicked on her conversation to reply.
You realize I have a lot on my plate right now.
She immediately responded. Not talking to you.
I don’t have time for this, Cara.
If you keep being an asshole, the only person you’ll have left is me.
He stared at the words as they stared back.
He begrudgingly clicked on the link she had shared and opened the article. It took him five minutes to get to the end, and although some very salient arguments had already formed against it in his mind, he had to admit the evidence was hard to deny.
Basically, she’d accused him of avoiding people he cared about to stop them from getting too close so that he could control his feelings. He wanted to argue that it was bullshit, because he’d never do that to Cara, but if he was being honest, she was the only person he never did that to.
And according to her assessment, that was because he subconsciously knew Cara could never, or would never, leave.
He shook his head, not buying it. He’d had close friendships his whole life .
But on the other hand, he kept them at arm’s length. He’d even advised Adam to do the same with Chelsea, and he’d never stopped feeling guilty about that.
He just never opened up to them because when he was young, all his friends were growing up with normal families, and he’d always been too embarrassed to tell them that his life was a big steaming pile of dog shit.
It was difficult to deny that his upbringing, or lack thereof, still impacted him now. And it was impossible to deny that he craved control in order to prevent anything bad from happening again.
But that wasn’t something wrong with him. That was his best quality.
If he took control, everything would be fine, and his track record proved it. He’d raised Cara, and she was brilliant. She was earning a PhD; she was a responsible adult, and everyone that met her loved her.
Not to mention all the businesses he’d started, or purchased, were thriving under his control.
And one day, when he found someone right for him, he would make certain that everything went smoothly so that if he had children, they would never experience the same struggle of fending for themselves as he and Cara had .
He shook his head, completely fucking annoyed.
What everyone else seemed to think was a flaw was actually a feature.
Then why haven’t you ever had a long-term relationship?
He let his mind turn that question around and, unfortunately, came up blank. His life was in shambles. Willow had left. His sister was refusing to talk to him, and his new business was falling apart around him.
Was everyone else to blame but him? Obviously not. He was the only common denominator.
Was it his desperate need to control everything? He knew he’d handled the situation with Willow poorly. The hurt in her eyes when he’d shut down still haunted him.
Was she really as indecisive as he thought?
Yes.
But maybe he had been too pushy. Maybe he should have given her some space instead of trying to force her into a decision and then shutting her out when she hadn’t been able to make one.
It wasn’t her fault that things had gone wrong, and he supposed Jer wasn’t the worst employee ever. At least he came to work on time and did what Willow told him to do .
Plus, Max had sold the brewery to her, and so it was hers to control. Not his. If she wanted to hire a team of monkeys to work there and put the opening back three months, that would be up to her.
He sighed, feeling like an asshole, and opened his spreadsheets, checked his accounts, and pulled up his calculator. The thought of having the grand opening without her felt gross and wrong.
He wanted her there, he wanted to celebrate with her, and he wanted her to experience what she’d accomplished. She needed to be there to see it all come together.
He ran some numbers, and although it would hurt his bottom line and frustrate their clientele, it wouldn’t be catastrophic to push the opening back two weeks.
He stood from his— their chair and marched out of the office to the kitchen.
“Luis,” he said as he walked through the kitchen door.
Everyone in the kitchen turned their gaze downward and scurried away as if they were bunnies and had just spotted a wolf.
“Yes, Max?” Luis said. He was the only one that wasn’t scared.
“Would you be okay with us moving the opening back one more week? ”
Luis blinked rapid fire a few times before his mouth fell open. “Would I be okay?”
Max cringed. “I’ve been a dick to you, haven’t I?”
“Well, not so much to me,” he said with a shrug. “But I wouldn’t call our interactions warm by any means.”
He blew out a breath, shifted his weight between his feet. “I’m sorry.”
Luis gave a smirk. “Was that painful?”
“Yeah,” he said with the first laugh he’d let out in days. “A little.”
“It’s okay, Max,” Luis said, patting his arm. “It’s a lot of stress, and no one’s perfect. I forgive you.”
“Thank you,” Max said with a sigh of relief. “So you’re okay if we move the opening back an extra week?”
Luis nodded. “Yes, we can perfect the systems in the meantime. Will the brewery be ready, though?”
Max suddenly remembered that Jer had quit. God, what a fucking nightmare.
“I need to figure that out still. Maybe I can apologize to Jer and talk him into coming back.”
“Back?” Luis asked, a frown forming.
“Yeah,” he said, the regret surging up once more. “He quit.”
Luis shook his head. “Jer was here today, but he left. ”
Max pushed down the urge to be annoyed that it was only four o’clock and he was gone. Not his employee, not his to control. He was determined to stay in his lane from now on.
“Oh, maybe I can find him. Do you know where he lives?”
“No,” Luis said. “But I know he’s at sound healing tonight.”
Max stared at him, trying to make it make sense. “What the fuck is sound healing?”
Luis snickered as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll text you the address. You should go. He’ll consider it an olive branch.”
For fuck’s sake.
He shook it off, determined to do whatever it took to make sure Willow could open her brewery, with the employee she loved, and be there for it. Even if that meant taking part in a bunch of hippy woo-woo crap with Jer.
He pulled in a deep breath and let it out through his clenched teeth. “I guess I’m going to sound healing, then.”
Luis laughed. “You never know, Max. Maybe it’ll help.”