I blinked. Daly was a sort of friend, the kind you made through work and treated congenially when you saw them then never thought of them otherwise. I knew I was tired, but I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.
“Next?”
“Don’t be coy with me. The word was all over the place today. Vincent’s certainly stepping up, isn’t he? I have to say, it’s a bold move to drop the weekly and turn your focus to a monthly newsmagazine with more in depth pieces on local business and agriculture. Pairing it with an online version is—”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Silence fell across the line. “Oh.” He coughed. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”
The vise around my vocal cords was barely allowing me to speak. At the same time, my shoulders felt suspiciously light. I was defensive, of course. This was my company. My baby—until I’d begun to understand the difference between a child made of figures and facts and a very live breathing one with a heartbeat and gummy smiles.
“No, I don’t. But obviously, I’m missing some vital details about my company. Thanks for the heads up.”
“Wainwright, wait.”
I didn’t wait. I ended that call and immediately FaceTimed Vincent, who answered from the conference room he was still in at the trade show venue. “Asher? What’s up?”
In the old days—just a few months ago—he’d called me “Boss”. I’d waved it off, since I had alway
s considered us to be friends. We’d been working together for years. Maybe that was my problem. I hadn’t exerted enough of an iron rule in the office. How often did I even see Jason? Not often, and he was Wainwright’s CFO. Oh, he showed up to weekly meetings, but otherwise, good luck catching him at his desk.
I hadn’t pressured him. Nor did I ride Vincent’s ass for coming and going pretty much as he pleased as well, including weeklong trips to Saint Tropez on a damn near whim. They did their jobs and the company had been doing well—better than well—so I’d had no complaints.
Now I was scrambling to keep a foothold in a social media world that no longer had much room for a weekly print paper, and Vincent was using his free time to figure out how to steal my grandfather’s legacy out from underneath me.
“Hello? You FaceTimed me—weird, by the way, but I’m rolling with it—and now you’re not saying anything?”
“I wanted to see your eyes when I ask you if you’re trying to take over my company.”
Vincent didn’t blink. “No. But maybe I should be.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s be real, Asher. Your mind hasn’t been fully involved in the business since—well, you know quite well since when.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“You know it’s so, man. I’m not trying to make it harder on you, but in this climate, there’s no room for distractions. Your life has been one giant one for the better part of six months. It certainly doesn’t seem like that will be changing either.”
Vincent could say that again. He didn’t even know about the latest thing that had rocked my world. No one did, except Hannah and I.
Unless she’d told someone, and if so, they were probably judging me right now too.
“What would you have me do? Ignore my responsibilities at home so I can work here twenty-four seven? You haven’t seen me jetting off to Saint Tropez recently.”
“No, but perhaps you should. The reason I needed that vacation is because I’ve been busting my ass securing funding despite our shortfalls and trying to convince our advertisers and business partners that we still have something to offer them. Why don’t you ask Jason what he’s been doing night after night when you’ve had to run home to deal with feedings? He’s been crunching numbers, trying to balance books that can’t be balanced.” He eased a hip on the conference table he was standing next to. Files and papers were scattered over it in all directions. “Our business model doesn’t work any longer, Asher. It just does not.”
“The commercial printing side is still quite liquid.” Even I could hear the defensiveness in my tone.
“Yes, it is, but the weekly paper is dragging it down. We need to cut that ball and chain loose before it sinks the entire operation.”
“That’s not your call to make.”
“No, you’re right. Your name is the one on the building, right?” His mouth twisted into the remnant of a smile. “I’m just the street kid who worked his way up and won’t stop until your company makes it through to the other side. So, no, I’m not trying to stage a hostile takeover. More like I have some ideas of what could be. I still have the passion you used to have, Boss.”
I wanted to argue with him. How dare he question my passion when he was spreading rumors or whatever the hell he was doing about my company?
Except what if he was right? I hadn’t enjoyed work for a while. I couldn’t say exactly how long. It had become something to handle. To conquer. I wanted to be able to look back and say I’d brought the business through its roughest period. I’d righted the damn ship, against all odds.