Chapter 47
I ridewith my father to work for the first time three days after returning to Toronto.
I’ve been staying with my parents since I got back because the thought of walking into my empty penthouse after being gone for two months makes my skin crawl. It was empty long before I met Poppy, and while she never stepped foot inside of it, I already know it will feel far hollower this time.
Just the mention of the woman I left behind in Cherry Peak is enough to make me consider telling my father to pull the car over so I can retch on the busy downtown sidewalk. Kip, Poppy, even Wade and Eliza. My goodbye with Kip was too short, spent with my face pressed to his side and every instinct inside of me telling me not to leave.
The nausea I’ve been suffering with since coming back home hits me full throttle. Only when I’m sleeping does it give me any reprieve. If I even manage to sleep for more than a handful of hours a night.
“You skipped breakfast,” Dad says when we stop at a red light.
“Wasn’t hungry.”
“What about now? We can stop and grab a coffee and a bagel before heading in? Or I can have something brought up to the office,” he offers.
“No, thank you.”
With my elbow propped on the door, I cup my jaw and close my eyes, knowing that if I stare out the window as we drive, all this mention of food will tip me over the edge.
The radio is on, but I don’t recognize the song playing. Usually, that would have interested me. I’d want to figure out who it was and if I liked them enough to entertain the idea of poaching them from their current label. Now, the idea of doing that is boring. Unfulfilling.
“Are you sure? There might already be a spread waiting for you due to your arrival. A bit of a welcome-back party that the staff set up. I know they wouldn’t mind adding something with some more sustenance.”
“I’m not hungry. And the staff hates me. I’m sure they threw a party the day I was sent away. A welcome-back party doesn’t interest me,” I grind out.
I’m on edge. Snappy and rude. Everything I know I shouldn’t be.
My father has put an obscene of work into our relationship since our talk. He called me every single day during my last two weeks in Cherry Peak, insisted on picking me up at the airport, and has checked on me far too many times while I’ve been staying with him and Mom. I’ve lost count of the number of trays of food I’ve heard him bring to my bedroom, only for me not to touch them.
I want to tell him that I appreciate it, but I don’t know how. I’m too much of a fucking mess right now to try.
“They don’t hate you. Things were heated when you left. People were concerned. Just . . . just try to understand where everyone was coming from,” he encourages, sounding close to outright begging me.
“I don’t care enough about them to do that. But I’ll leave it well enough alone. I just want to get back to work.”
“Has Nathan got you up to speed on everything that went on while you were gone?”
“He tried.” I didn’t answer a single one of his phone calls over the past three days. “I’ve read the emails he sent me prior to last week. I know enough.”
His lack of reply has me glancing his way. He twists his mouth in thought, tapping at the steering wheel.
“And your assistant? She’s spoken to you about your schedule today?”
I’ve ignored her too. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out once I get there.”
“Garrison,” he starts as the towering glass building that’s home to Swift Edge Records climbs into the sky above us. I contemplate jumping out of the car before we get there. “Tell me if you need me to turn the car around and I will. Work can wait another day.”
Dropping my arm to my lap, I fiddle with one of my gold cufflinks. Not once in my career has a suit felt itchy on my skin, but that changed this morning.
“No, it can’t. I’d hate for people to start assuming I’ve found something better to do than work. The board needs to be reminded who I am and that I’m here to stay,” I say, the words sounding rehearsed. They feel it too.
“The board trusts you and your judgment.”
I don’t have the energy to laugh. “No, they don’t. If I weren’t your son and you didn’t hold half ownership, they’d have tried to sweep the company out from under me years ago. They’re loyal to you and you alone.”
“I haven’t heard anything along those lines from them, son.”
“That’s surprising to you?”
The zebra-striped fedora on his head lifts as he slips his fingers beneath it to itch at the side of his head. “Well, I suppose not.”
“It’s fine. Their dislike motivates me.”
“I will schedule a meeting to discuss this with them. I’m aware that you can handle yourself, but you’re my son. That alone demands their respect.”
The first tease of warmth I’ve felt in days slips through the cracked chunks of my soul. “Thank you.”
After parking in his designated spot in the underground parking lot, Dad offers me a reassuring smile. I attempt to return it, but when he grimaces and grabs my arm, it’s obvious I’ve failed.
“I know I’ve been a terrible father to you, but I want you to know that I’m very committed on fixing our relationship. You don’t trust me, and I understand that. I hate it, but I’ve given you no reason to trust me in the past. I’m going to earn back all of your trust. And I want you to know that I’m here for you. You deserve to be happy, Garrison. And right now, I don’t need you to tell me you aren’t to see it. I’m here to help in any way that I can, even if that means just sitting here and listening.”
My throat clogs with another wave of emotion. Every shuddered inhale I take burns. The air around me is too thin, empty. I’m in pain. Inside and out.
“I can’t talk about it,” I croak before clearing my throat. “Not yet.”
Understanding fills his expression as he nods. “Well, when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Both me and your mother.”
“She’s upset with me, isn’t she?” I ask.
His brows tug inward. “Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“She’s not upset with you at all, Garrison. Why in the world would you think that?”
My scoff is cruel. “Because I was too selfish to choose Poppy over my career. She loved her. It was obvious. I could have avoided all of this had I just been okay with giving this fucking job up. And truthfully, I don’t think it was worth it. The thought of heading inside is enough to make me want to send everyone home and blow the entire building up.”
Dad shakes his head only once. “Stop it. Your mother would never, ever be upset with you over something like this. Her feelings come from her wanting you to have everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s the universe she’s upset with for dealing you such an unfair card.”
“What if I made the wrong choice?” I ask him, finally voicing the question that’s been plaguing me since that final night on the ranch with Poppy, her tears burning my thumbs.
She flayed herself open for me, and I still didn’t give in to my instincts that screamed and cried and begged me to say yes to every single option she gave me.
I hoped I could do this. That I could eventually convince myself that my time with her would stay with me forever in memory but be nothing more. I was a fucking fool.
“Why do you think it was the wrong choice? Because you miss her or because the thought of being without her will eventually drain the life from you? Do you think it will get better, or are you positive you won’t be able to heal?” he asks softly.
“How do I know if it will get better?”
“You just do. But if you’re asking me that, then I think you must have an idea already.”
Yeah, I do. And I have no fucking idea what it means.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I speak quiet enough the question is hardly audible.
“When’s the last time you visited the Calgary office?” Dad asks after a slight pause.
“What does that have to do with this? Is there something going on with Brody?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Brody’s great. Better than, as I’m sure you’ll see later.” He’s quick to shut down my worry. “I think you should really speak to Nathan. He has more information on the other offices than I do, but I’ve heard that it’s going incredibly well over there. Once you speak to him, maybe you’ll have a bit more clarity.”
“I still don’t get what this has to do with me and Poppy. The Calgary office doesn’t matter to me, Dad. Can we just go inside now?”
I need to clear my head. It feels too claustrophobic in here. Forcing myself back into the swing of my normal life might help distract me enough to forget about the ache behind my ribs. I’ve spent three days missing her. If it’s possible to think of something other than her, I’ll find that reprieve in my office.
Dad tips his chin and gives my arm a final squeeze before turning the car off. “Yeah, son. Let’s go.”
My computer screenshines in my eyes as I scroll through my messages. The office is dark, all of the deep-coloured wood and black furniture blending into the shadows. It’s late, and everyone is gone. They’ve been gone for hours now.
An empty glass sits beside my computer and a bottle of whiskey that was unopened this morning but now can’t have more than half left.
My eyes burn from the light of my screen, but I don’t care. Tearing my eyes away from my last conversation with Poppy is the last thing I want to do.
Poppy: Text me when you land so I know you’re safe.
Poppy: If you hadn’t snuck out of the house before I woke this morning, we could have had a conversation about whether or not texting is allowed.
Poppy: I’m sorry. I don’t care if it’s allowed right now. I need to know your fancy jet hasn’t crashed and left you smeared down some gravel road somewhere.
I hadn’t bothered to connect my phone to Wi-Fi on the plane ride. All it would have done was convince me to text her the entire flight, and I needed a clean break. Boundaries.
My reply was sent once I slipped into my father’s car at the airport.
Me: I’ve landed.
Two words. That’s all I sent.
Two months we spent together, and I left before she woke and sent a message that gave her absolutely fucking nothing.
I pour myself another drink before gulping it down, grateful for the way it numbs me further with every sip.
She never texted me back. Why would she have?
The stack of files on my desk needs to be read. My inbox is overflowing with emails both directly sent to me and forwarded from my assistant. Nathan stopped by a dozen times after the welcome-back meeting this morning. I kept my door locked. Even denied my dad’s offer for a ride home.
His emails are the first ones I open once I tear myself from the short span of text messages. Hearing my dad’s voice in the back of my mind, I click on the one titled Swift Edge – Calgary Updates first.
My vision blurs with exhaustion and the effects of my drinking as I read the boring bullet-point-listed updates. I almost skip right over the bolded text before straining my eyes to focus on it and reading the section.
Is it possible to expand into the second phase of hiring already? They need additional staff ASAP. I’ve been told the number of talent meetings requested has tripled over the past week alone. If you can plan a trip out in the next few days, it might be a good idea to get a look at what the situation is like. It could be time to focus on western Canada.
It’s good news. The new office has only been open for under two years. The only other location to move so swiftly was Los Angeles, but we were far more prepared for it than we were for Calgary. I spent six months there. I’ve yet to spend more than a week at a time in Calgary overseeing business.
My head spins so fast I turn off my computer and lean into my chair, gripping the arms. Calgary wasn’t a point of focus for me until Brody Steele happened and he demanded last year that he use its location for as much Swift Edge business as possible. A choice he made for Annalise. For their relationship.
I didn’t understand it at the time. In actuality, I fought him on it as much as possible before taking the loss. Watching him sacrifice his chance at recording in Nashville in order to be closer to a woman was absurd.
Now, I think I understand him far too well.