Risky Business

“Excuse me?” Ben sneers, clearly not used to being spoken to quite so bluntly.

“Jayme.” Carson’s tone is cold and flat, and he’s obviously not ready to listen either.

I need to work on him first. I hate that I even think this, but I know him better and can get past his shields more easily. It’s using what he’s shared with me in confidence against him, but for his own good. I start off by giving him a look, hoping he understands. This is for you.

To Ben, I say, “You called me here. What did you expect to happen when I came? Did you think I was going to tell Carson that he’d messed up his reputation and that Americana Land’s beyond repair?” He tries to answer, but I keep rolling. “I don’t think so. I think you truly wanted me to help. Which I’m doing, but be aware that the biggest change that’s happened since my arrival is Carson doing what his gut says without worrying whether you’re going to approve of it. Or be proud of him.”

Carson’s jaw is clenched so hard I can hear his teeth grind. He’s furious with me. I’m overstepping, but this is part of what I do. It’s not always about the façade, not when I can repair the foundation, as Ben called it. And I think Carson and his dad are closer to a better relationship than they think.

“Ben, what your son wants is to show you that he’s got the goods. And guess what? He does. But you two butt heads so much, you might as well be goats playing King of the Mountain.”

I throw my hands up, but I’m not done. I’ve barely started. “Frankly, the best thing you two could do for the company is sit down and learn to talk to each other, not snip and snipe, undercutting each other at every turn. Because your employees, your executives? Every time you two go off like this, they lose faith in you. But more importantly, you two need to talk as a family. As father and son. Because I can see and hear the love you two have for each other. You just both suck balls at communicating it.”

At some point, Izzy and Toni have come back with popsicles, and Ben looks around helplessly, hoping for support. But his wife is no shelter this time, glaring at him as if to say you fucked it up. Now do something about it.

Finally, Ben clears his throat. “Carson,” he says slowly, as if unknotting a particularly hard lump in his throat, “I am proud of you. I always have been.”

He makes the compliment sound as if it should be obvious. It’s definitely not. But it’s a step in the right direction.

Carson’s shoulders are stiff, his back straight. “Thank you.”

You ever see someone who’s obviously having the worst day of their life, like they’re crying ugly, snotty tears, folded in on themselves, disheveled and out of sorts, but when you ask them how they’re doing, they say ‘fine’ in that flat, auto-tone of an expected, but entirely untrue, answer? That’s the vibe of Carson’s ‘thank you’.

I twitch my hand, barely brushing my pinkie against his in a subtle show of support. He takes a big breath, his lips pressed together, but finally adds, “You’ve built something special here at Americana Land, kept it going through difficult times. Including this one. I hope we can work together as we move toward a better future.”

Okay, still robotic as hell and sounding like a couple of fake-ass politicians reaching across the aisle temporarily because of some national emergency, but it’s a start, some acknowledgement of the other from them both.

“Okay, good job for today,” I declare with a coach-worthy clap of my hands. “Next time, you two do this in private, away from the park. Now if you’ll excuse us, we do need to get back to our check-ins so that everything is perfect tomorrow.” I don’t want to push them any further when this small set of admissions was as difficult as it was. And we really do have a major event in less than twenty-four hours.

Ben looks shocked at being dismissed, as if it’s never happened to him before. Maybe it hasn’t? He is the boss, after all. But he blinks away the wrinkle in his brow and takes Izzy’s hand. “See you later, Son.”

Carson nods. “Yeah, Dad.”

With that, Izzy and Ben walk off. Toni leans toward Carson, holding her hand up to speak behind though she whispers loud enough for me to hear, “I like her. You should see what she thinks about butt-munches.”

Carson sighs as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Toni, please. Not now.”

She shrugs, smiling easily as if the uncomfortable situation between her brother and father didn’t just happen. Though I guess she might be used to it by now? “I’m going to go find Kyleigh and see if I can help her at all. Jazmyn Starr and King’s Krossing . . . you did good, Bro.”