Grumpy Boss by Hamel B. B

Author:Hamel, B. B.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

12

Rees

In the end, Byron wrote a check.

It wasn’t a big one, about half of what I wanted. Byron wrote it the following morning, after what turned out to be a very normal dinner alongside a very small, and very gamey roasted bird. I ate a piece, but Millie was smart enough to steer clear.

“Listen here, city boy,” Byron said as he shoved the check in my hands. “You lose this, you die. You don’t make me a lot of money, you die. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” I said, slipping the check into my pants. “You know investing comes with risk, right?”

“Wise ass,” he said, punching my arm, and laughed.

Millie was quiet on the trip back again. I wanted to ask her what was going on but she seemed distant. I decided to give her space, if she needed it—but I kept thinking about her speech, and the look on her face as she stared into the fire and told Byron about her childhood.

I knew she struggled. Lori gave me the basics before I hired her. I knew she was raised by her grandmother, and her parents had died when she was young. But I didn’t know how difficult it had been, not really, and how much she’d done to get herself through school, and into law school at a great university. In some ways, that made a lot of sense, and explained why she seemed so afraid to take the bar. So far in her life, failing had never been an option.

I couldn’t relate to that type of struggle. My problems were different, more abstract, and in a way, they were dwarfed by what she’d been through. I succeeded young, and succeeded wildly beyond anything I ever imagined, and ever since then the pressure to keep performing was a steady drumbeat that marched me through my days. There was no rest: it was work, work, work, make investors money, always improve, always grow. Some days, I imagined walking away from it all.

Fantasy, of course. I liked the life too much. I liked the struggle.

Back in Philadelphia, Millie sat in my office again at my table near the windows, reading through financial statements. I had her hunting for a business we might invest in when the time came, which wasn’t so far away. She was diligent, barely glanced in my direction, but the tension was driving me crazy.

I got up and walked to her. I hovered above her until she looked up, a little annoyed.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

I pulled up a chair and sat right next to her. “That’s not how you talk to your boss.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s up, Rees?”

“You’ve been quiet lately,” I said. “Ever since we left L.A., you’ve been a little distant.”

She glanced away, and I knew it in that look—something had happened out there, and I didn’t know what.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Things are going okay, right? Alfie’s money’s good. Byron invested.”

“They’re a start,” I said, “but we’re nowhere near where we need to be.

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