17. Brodie
The text I got when I was at the high school with Clint was from my company—former company. Specifically my assistant.
Assistant: The board has called a meeting in the morning. Your attendance is mandatory.
Me: Why are they having you reach out instead of contacting me themselves.
Assistant: I’m your assistant. It’s my job to manage your calendar.
Me: And you do a fantastic job. It was great working with you.
I knew what the meeting would be, or, I was ninety-nine percent certain. I was going to be fired from the only place I’d ever worked, aside from the part time gig I did for Granny’s Yarn Shop when I was in high school.
That should make me furious. Or sad. Both?
Either way, I didn’t have anything to do with my evening since Aubrey and Clint were occupied, and that gave me the freedom to ponder.
Not a good thing, because I still couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t angrier about this whole situation. Why, at two in the morning, I was outside wandering the streets, waiting for the grief to sink in. The only thing that made my insides flip on themselves was seeing Clint’s truck parked in front of Aubrey’s building on Main Street.
In my motel room, I tossed and turned for a few more hours, before finally getting up to face the phone call. Once I’d heard the board’s final decision, once everything was official, it would feel real.
While it was true that some things since I got here had been frustrating—not being able to find the farm property I was hoping to buy for example—the great thing was not putting on a show for most people I ran into. With Aubrey’s grandmother, I was expected to be the corporate executive, but with everyone else, I was me.
Preparing for the morning’s call was a stark reminder that life was typically the opposite. Thinking about who I was expected to be once I got on the phone, psyching myself up, was exhausting before things started. There was a brief interruption when the check-in desk called to say I had a package. The shirts and associated hardware to help Dee monitor her heart had shown up, and walking the short distance to grab the package was a nice, but too brief, distraction. I was surprised to see it arrive overnight. The note inside said Heard some rumors. Wanted to get you this before I couldn’t expense it back to you. These are the kid prototypes. Hope they work.
I spent the remaining time leading up to the meeting pacing. Drumming my fingers on my leg. Singing random bursts of music that popped into my head. I was walking into my execution—my job’s execution—and I should be more worried. They couldn’t take away my shares of the company, but they could kick me out of holding jobs within it.
I must be too wound up to be nervous.
Yesterday, Evie helped me throw together a makeshift background from PVC pipe and canvas, and a few minutes before the top of the hour, I set it up behind the desk in the motel room. I took my seat, slipped in my earbuds, and joined the video call.
I wasn’t surprised that a couple of the other executives were late, including the Chief Operation Officer who had been acting in my place the last couple of weeks, and we couldn’t start without them.
God forbid.
They finally showed, and Lia Barney, said COO, kicked off the meeting with a round of formalities. Reviewing high level stats from the last few quarters, covering what they had identified as core profit issues, and prefacing and concluding everything with a lot of fancy words that said we can’t blame anyone, for legal reasons.
As I listened to the same things I’d been hearing for months, and the less than subtle hints that they could push the blame on me as the face of the company, regardless of whose fault it really was, something inside me snapped. I knew what was coming—we all did—and didn’t see the reason for another fifteen or thirty or more minutes of preamble.
“Q-Four last year…” Lia took a deep breath, indicating the next recitation was on its way.
Nope. I needed to get this over with. “Let’s not do this anymore.” I talked over her.
“Beg pardon?” Lia had perfected stern-but-offended tone.
“We all know why we’re here.” My desire to cut to the point had served me well early on. People were impressed with that. The novelty hadn’t lasted long for them. I could play the corporate politics games, but I didn’t like to. “Whatever reason you have for dragging your feet getting to the punchline, stop. If it’s because you need to get the legal stuff out of the way, I’m going to have to sign some shit regardless that says I understand. Send me that, and say what you came here to say.”
“That’s fair.” Grady was our Director of Human Resources. “The reason we’re here is because the Board has decided it’s time to part ways with you.”
He said more, but the instant I heard those words, a bubble popped inside me. Relief flooded in.
Why relief? I should be disappointed. Upset. Hurt. I should be furious.
And I was happy it was over.
“Okay, thank you.” I talked over Grady, and didn’t realize it until he stared at his camera in shock. “I’ll keep an eye out for the paperwork. My lawyer will need to review it before I sign. Enjoy the rest of your day.” I hung up before anyone could say anything,
Holy shit. I just lost my company. The thing I built from the ground up from my brainchild in high school. They took it from me. they owned the intellectual property and the patents.
And I was happy about that?
No. Not happy, but free. It had been years since I recognized what the business had become, and now I got to go back to the start. Do things my way. I had my own capitol now. I had more knowledge. Bigger ideas. Experience ignoring the people who said they wanted what was best for me, and really just wanted to make what I’d made into theirs.
I needed to talk to Clint about that chemical formula.
Holy—
My mind raced. Once this rush wore off, I’d start listing all the things that sucked about this. Probably. Maybe. They hadn’t taken my money though. They didn’t take my company shares.
The only thing they took was the original idea, and everything they’d built around it when they stole it.
Good. They could have it.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen. It was the office. I didn’t work for them anymore, and didn’t have to answer. I sent the call to voicemail, closed up my laptop, and stashed my background screen at the far end of the room.
I changed my shirt to an old T-shirt that had nothing to do with anything, grabbed the delivery for Clint and Dee, and headed out of my motel.
As the door swung shut behind me, it felt like the period at the end of the paragraph. That part of life was over. Not that the transition would be easy, but…
Wow.
I needed coffee then I’d go visit Clint. His truck was gone from in front of Aubrey’s, and the reminder it had been there all night nearly soured my mood. But I refused to be brought down.
As I walked down the street, I caught snippets of a conversation. Something about local property and buying. The man acting as an agent-slash-finder.
I turned, looking for the source. Was this someone who could help me?
My gaze landed on Travis, who I recognized because he was on the city council, and I’d learned about all of them. Thought it might help me buy here. Develop property here.
He was just finishing up a phone call, so I approached. It would be fantastic if he was the missing piece I’d been trying to find.
“Do you have a minute?” I called out.
He looked me over, his brows furrowed, then his frown faded when he looked at my face. “It’s Brodie, isn’t it? Brodie Watson?”
“Yeah.” I extended my hand. “Nice to meet y?—”
Another man stepped between us, out of nowhere, and looped his arm through mine, pulling me away.
“You don’t want to talk to him,” the newcomer said. “I’ve got you covered.”
“Dang it, Maddox. Mind your own freaking business.” Travis’s frustration hit my back.
Who the— I processed the name.
“Let me buy you coffee.” He steered us toward Kingu Kafe.
“Maddox… Haddar?” I knew the family name—the town was named after them. Maddox’s older brother, Xander, was a huge name in investment.
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m Maddox Smith, but people get me confused with him all the time.” His sarcasm was light and mixed with amusement.
Why did he pull me away from Travis? “I was in the middle of something,” I said.
”And I’m saving you. You’re welcome.” He turned toward the coffee shop, taking me with him.
I could stop him easily enough, but my curiosity was piqued. “Saving me from…?”
“Dude’s a prick. Anything you think he can help you with, someone else will do better and demand less in return. Also, if Aubrey’s fiancé gets fucked over, Alys will be mad, and I don’t like it when Alys is mad.”
This was a far more fascinating and reasonable conversation than the one I’d been part of in the hotel room. “Is Travis in the habit of fucking people over?”
“On occasion. More importantly, he associates with people who are in the habit of that. What are you drinking?” Maddox nodded at the cashier.
My mind ground to a halt as I forced it to change gears. “Dirty chai latte. Large. Hot.”
Maddox wrinkled his nose. “One of those that he said.” He jerked his thumb at me as he talked to the cashier. “And something with coffee and ice for me. Surprise me.”
That sounded like a less than safe way to live life, but the girl behind the counter didn’t look surprised by his order. A moment later we had our drinks, and we picked a table.
Maddox took a sip and furrowed his brow. He paused for a moment then took another drink.
“What did you get?” I had to know.
“Not certain. It’s a little fruity, but also subdued. Blackberry and white chocolate maybe.”
I’d stick with my sure thing.
After a couple more tentative sips, Maddox seemed to decide he’d scored with his drink. “What were you hoping Travis would help you with?”
“I’m looking to buy a place and move here, but no one is selling.”
Maddox half-smirked. “They are. They’re just not telling an outsider.”
That was what I thought. “I’m not. I grew up here.”
“I know. I can help.”
“You deal in property?” I’d seen Maddox’s podcast, with Adam. Neither of them seemed like the real estate agent or investor type.
“No, but I know people who do. Are you looking for a house in town?”
I shook my head. “A farm on the outskirts. Something I can dig my fingers into and go hands-on.”
“Why?”
Why what? “So I can farm.”
“What are you going to grow?”
He offered to help me. He dragged me away from a different conversation. I didn’t understand where the conversation took a turn. “Do I have to pass some sort of test in order for you to help me?”
“In a way. It’s just, you’re a big corporate executive, aren’t you? That’s what people say.”
“Not anymore. I was fired.” It still felt good to say that. It shouldn’t, but it did.
Maddox shook his head. “You don’t just stop being that and start a farm, especially if you’ve never farmed before.”
Of course not. I’d done dozens of hours of research. Watched videos. Looked at crops and equipment. I wouldn’t go into this without knowledge. “How do you know?”
“My brother is a big wig executive. His husband is too. So is their girlfriend. None of them would buy land out here to grow something, even if they got fired. They’d go get a new big wig executive job.”
“That’s three people. Not a reasonable sample size.” I knew Maddox was right, but I was different. My approach and reasons were different.
Maddox let out a heavy sigh and stared at me, as if he was waiting for me to say something else.
I’d made my point.
He shook his head. “That’s reality. People don’t move into a position like CEO by mistake.”
“I did.”
“Uh-huh. What are you going to grow?”
I hated this third degree, but I was also invested in it. I needed to know where it was going, and prove that I wasn’t wrong. “Corn.”
“For profit? You’re going to compete with giant farms in the Midwest.”
I swallowed a growl.
Maddox shrugged. “There are a lot of things I think sound really cool, but I know myself well enough to know that there are nearly as many of them that I’d never follow through with. You buy a farm, you grow a bunch of corn, and then what?”
“I’m not you. I sell at farmers markets and to local grocery stores.”
“You can’t get anyone in this town to tell you if a farm is available. How are you going to get a grocery store to buy your corn for resale?”
I pushed back from the table. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Wait.” The aggression vanished from Maddox’s voice. “If you want to buy a farm and grow corn, then cool. I really don’t have an issue with that or you. But even if I hear that someone is selling, people here really are picky about who buys.”
“You don’t care what people here think.” I was guessing, but I suspected I was right.
Maddox grinned. “I care what a few of them think. I care what Alys thinks, and that means caring what Aubrey thinks, and that means caring if you’re happy. And if you’re not upset that you just got fired from a CEO job that you fell into by mistake, do you really want to own a farm and everything that goes with it?”
I gave him a short wave, because it was easier than thinking about his question. “Have a good day. It was weird to meet you.”
“Thank you.” He beamed.
I was going to visit Clint, drop off this stuff for Dee, and try not to linger on how super fucking weird that conversation with Maddox was.