Chapter 11
TJ
YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?
Walking from my kitchen down the hall to my office, I do one last survey of the post-wedding cleanup.
I normally keep my places clean, a product of growing up in foster homes and moving a lot.
In the weeks since the wedding, I’ve been spending more time in Seattle with Slade and Jake.
So to say my house wasn’t looking the best when I got home from Cowgirl Coffee yesterday is a bit of an understatement even with my housekeeper.
Stepping into my office at the end of the hall, next to my studio, I look around the second least used room in my house.
The only person that occasionally uses it is Jake, and even then I can’t remember the last time.
Most of the work I do now is scoping out buildings in person or approving plans and signing paperwork, which Jake forces me to do digitally.
I would much rather him overnight me papers to physically sign, but he likes to remind me that wastes time and paper.
Walking around the desk and stepping up to the console table in front of the large floor to ceiling windows, I admire the view of the mountains from this spot.
At this time of night, the sun has set and the lights from the groomers going up and down the ski slopes are visible in the distance.
My house might be closer to the slopes, but the view is similar from all over Jackson.
I wonder if Grace is looking at the twinkling lights on the slopes now too, like her very own stars.
Hell, I wonder where her van is parked. It’s freezing out. I know she said she winter camps all the time, but I still wish I knew she was alright.
The feeling of my phone buzzing in my jeans pulls me from that thought. I look down to see an incoming call from Jake.
“It’s about time you called,” I say, reaching down to clear off the corner of the console table and make some room.
He groans. “I called as soon as I was free. Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me leave until I had dessert. And to be fair, your voicemail just said ‘call me when you can, no rush’. So, here I am, calling. Also, just send a text message like a normal person.”
“Yeah, sure, next time. Anyway, I need you to get our new—” My voice trails off and I hum to myself in thought.
What do I even call her? Consultant? I already hate the idea that I’m her boss.
I like to work with people. I hate the power dynamic of a business hierarchy.
I hated having to deal with my agent, our manager, and our label.
At least when it came to making music, we could ignore them and just do the part we enjoyed.
That was the part of being in a band I loved — when we got to work together, collaborate, and not have a real boss.
“I need you to get our new consultant up to speed tomorrow. Figure out what to pay her, get her whatever documents she needs, just make sure she’s taken care of. I’ll give her your contact info in the morning.”
“Woah. Pump the brakes for a second.” I hear keys clank against glass through the phone, meaning he must of just gotten home. “What consultant? And are we talking your definition of morning or mine?”
“I hired a consultant to help with our non-profit work and create a better plan for what we’re doing. She’s going to look at the charities we give to, stuff like that. It could be long-term, who knows. But for now, we’re calling it a trial run.”
“OK?” his voice trails up and I can picture the questioning look that’s probably on his face. “When did you hire her?”
“This afternoon. Why?”
I hear a long, frustrated sigh through the phone. “I know you like to go with your gut all the time, so this checks out but who is she? Where did you find this consultant?” he asks, his tone still skeptical.
He’s got a point. That probably would have been helpful to lead with.
“Grace Chapman, Tanner and Clay’s little sister.
You remember them, right?” Clay designed my house in Bend and Tanner is the property manager that takes care of my place here in Jackson, so Jake’s worked closely with them over the years.
“Yeah, the two giant mountain men that look like they could kill a bear with their bare hands. Hard to forget them.”
“Good, because, dude, she’s awesome. You’re going to love working with her. She’s so smart. And funny too. She’s worked for a non-profit for years and has so much experience from volunteering with ski school to working with donors. Her passion is just contagious.”
I feel like I’m talking a million miles an hour.
I actually hired Grace.
It’s Sunday night and she’ll be here tomorrow to get started and squared away with whatever she needs for this project. So I need Jake to be on board quickly.
“Why do you sound like you’re out of breath?” he says, laughing to himself.
I pause for a moment and realize that I’m now at the door to the hallway instead of by the window. Shit.
“I’ve been pacing around cleaning the house.” It’s fine. I just want to make a good impression on someone that I hired, right? That’s a totally normal thing to do.
“Oh shit,” he says with another loud laugh. “You’re worried what she thinks about you, aren’t you?”
I guess Jake answered my question for me. I swear he can read my mind.
Outside of him and my small inner circle, I’ve never cared about other people’s opinions of me.
People can think what they want. It’s never stopped me from doing my own thing.
With her though, he’s right. I clearly do care what she thinks and my own brother can see right through me enough to know it.
“Fuck off, Jake,” I chide, stepping back over to the desk and straightening it up. “I hired her because I think she can help us. Sure, did she need a job? Yes, and I wanted to help. But that’s it.”
That’s a lie and I know it.
Would I do anything to make her smile? Probably.
I know I’ll take every excuse I can to be around her because I like her, way too much. I can keep it professional though. Or at least I hope so.
“You sure about that?” he says, knowingly.
“If you were here, I’d punch you,” I grumble, not answering his question. “Now can you make yourself free tomorrow morning so you two can video chat?”
He snorts a laugh. “Yeah, that’s fine. You said she worked for a non-profit and has experience?”
“She worked for a non-profit back in Utah. They did stuff like getting kids into outdoor activities.” My mind goes back to when we first met in Bend with her brothers. She was so thrilled to talk about her job and what she did. Her excitement practically radiated off her.
“Oh, perfect,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised. “We’ve given to some places like that before.”
“Great. Well, you two can chat all about that tomorrow morning. Now I need to finish cleaning.”
I’m tired and, yeah, I guess I’m stressed too. Telling Jake suddenly makes this entire arrangement very real. She’s going to be in my house, working with me, learning details about my business and finances that very few people know.
“Whatever, old man. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Three years, Jake. I’m only three years older than you. You know that, right?” I shake my head. “Anyway, goodnight, little brother.”
“Night, TJ,” he says, and I can hear his voice soften before he hangs up.
Tucking my phone back in my pocket, I look around the office. She’s welcome to use it, but maybe she’ll want to hang out in her van instead or work from Cowgirl Coffee. I realize we have discussed no real details about what this arrangement will look like.
My heart warms though when I remember how sure she was when she said yes. She’s definitely free spirited, but also so confident and sure of herself.
If she’s so sure about this, then maybe I am doing the right thing.