Millionaire Boss (Freeman Brothers 1)

3

Quentin

I still wasn’t completely convinced about the idea of taking regular vacations. It seemed like everywhere I looked, people were living the opposite schedule of life I would think was normal. Every other day they posted pictures of their most recent getaway, making it seem like most of their life was a vacation and they occasionally returned for a week or two of normalcy. Of course, I was on the extreme end of the spectrum in the opposite direction, according to my parents and brothers. I hadn’t taken a vacation since those camping trips of my youth. I just didn’t have the time for it. The trips dwindled down by the time I was in the later years of high school, and then when I was in college out of state, I didn’t make the trip back to join the few that popped up while Darren was growing up.

Life after college got far too crammed to fit in long stretches of doing nothing purely for the sake of doing nothing. I was too committed to putting as much work and effort into reaching my goals to purposely have long days of making no progress. It seemed to me if I wasn’t doing something it needed to be because of serious illness or grievous bodily harm. Considering the industry that I dedicated my life to, there was always the possibility of the latter, and the former was just something all humans needed to be prepared for in life. I would much rather keep grinding on the days when I could so if the need popped up to spend time out of commission, I didn’t feel like I was getting too far behind.

That’s why it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for my family to finally convince me to take a vacation this past week. All of them were worried about the amount of stress I constantly put on myself and insisted I needed to take some time so my brain didn’t melt, or my heart didn’t stop, or any number of other needlessly graphic and overdramatic warnings they came up with each time they sat me down. I didn’t want to take the time off. Of course I was tired and had worked myself to the bone, but there was always more to do. Always more I could do. More success to be made. It felt strange to just say I would willingly not do any of it. It finally took my mother looking legitimately worried and my brother’s promising they would make a bunch of extra work for me when I did go back so I felt productive that they convinced me to take the vacation.

I’ll admit it was kind of nice to not have to wake up before the sun. Not that I stayed in bed for terribly much longer than that on any given morning. It was hard-wired into me to start the day too early and end it too late. But there was a certain amount of luxury in opening my eyes and knowing I didn’t actually have to get out of bed at that exact moment. I could stretch out and just lie there. I could roll over and watch TV for as long as I felt like, stuffing snacks in my mouth and drinking too much soda.

There was also an appeal to being able to roam around the house in my boxers, float around in the pool, and actually use the backyard I so often stared at longingly through the window when I was in my home office working. But there was also the pressing feeling I was missing something. I kept wondering what was going on at the office or what everyone was doing. I called up there so many times Glenda, the receptionist, redirected my number to my mother, who promptly blocked it.

That didn’t seem like the best way to treat the head of the company, but, as she crisply informed me when I circumvented her block by using my landline, mother trumps CEO. At least in most situations.

So, I relented and did my prescribed time. But it was finally my first day back at the Freeman Racing complex… and there was a woman in my office I had never seen before.

I stood several feet away from the chair where she was sitting, staring at her and flipping through the Rolodex of my mind to try to identify her. Maybe she was someone I’d met at one of the many events I went to each season. Could she be the daughter of one of the drivers? Of one of my competitors? Of a vendor? Could she be the vendor herself? A reporter? None of the options rolling through my mind made anything click. When I’d first arrived at the complex that morning, the guard didn’t say anything about a new employee, so that wasn’t any help.