by J. H. Croix
Little Max hadn’t been so amenable to going to bed, though he looked as if he was about to drop off to sleep as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Meanwhile, I was having trouble reminding myself that I didn’t need to run around wishing for babies every time I encountered a small child.
Apparently, that wasn’t an unusual side effect after a miscarriage. Although it seemed to be dragging on for me. I thought it had passed, but lately I was craving babies again. When I’d gone in for my annual gynecological check up—always fun times—my doctor had gently pointed out that I was also approaching the age where my body had biological expectations.
“Biological expectations” seemed a rather dry, impersonal way to explain the emotional bursts I’d been experiencing, but I’d take it.
I presumed she meant that whole biological clock thing. I hadn’t wanted to clarify further with her. I suspected being around Max, not babies, was what had stirred me up inside. The same thing had happened last year after our ill-fated one-night stand. The baby cravings had passed and the longing to fall madly in love, and be loved in return, had also faded.
“No way in hell am I gaining forty pounds,” Lucy retorted. “I’ll be as big as a house then.”
Susannah shrugged nonchalantly. “I felt more like a whale than a house.”
Maisie chuckled as she stood, adjusting a now sleepy Max in her arms. “I’d say it’s more like a beach ball, one that someone could just pop. If only labor was that easy.”
Amelia leaned her elbows on the table, her gaze scanning the group. I was curious to know why she didn’t have children yet, but then she surprised me by stating, “I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“For what?” Ella asked as she snagged a tortilla chip from a bowl in the middle of the table.
“I’m pregnant.”
Everybody spoke at once.
“What?!”
“Oh my God, that’s so awesome!”
“When did you find out?”
“Is this planned, or an accident?” Lucy asked with a grin, ending the brief cacophony.
Amelia rolled her eyes. “It was planned, but you already knew, so stop being ridiculous.”
Lucy shrugged and grinned. “How about you gain the forty pounds? I’ll stick with twenty. Although you’re tall, you’re probably hardly going to show.”
Conversation drifted around me, most of it about the trials of being pregnant. All the while, I was feeling a little melancholy.
When I left a little bit later, I almost called Ivy on the way home, but decided against it. While she was an early riser, she wasn’t much of a late night person. Not that it was too late, but still.
Driving home in the cold, under a gorgeous starry night, I wondered if I could ever have what my newfound friends all appeared to have. Messy lives where they were loved.
Everything Max said the other day had been playing on a loop in my thoughts. It started up again just now, like a record set on repeat. The needle fell and my thoughts spun along the grooves.
Max was teaching me a surprising lesson, something I had never expected. I had craved love for so long. The words he said the other day—about fighting for us, about it taking him by surprise, about how it was worth it—had burrowed into my heart with unerring accuracy. There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything to hear that. Yet, now I knew, I probably wouldn’t have believed it.
I didn’t have faith in the vagaries of the universe. I didn’t have faith in anyone loving me. Max had said all the right things, and all I had wanted to do was cry. I was simply waiting for him to realize he was crazy.
You’re not even giving him a chance. Just like Ivy said. You don’t give anyone a chance.
I’d had some variation of this internal debate going on whenever I wasn’t entirely occupied. Max had left a few days ago, and I’d completely ignored his texts and calls since. I figured that was easier than seeing the reality on his face when he realized he was confusing lust with love.
The snow crunched under my tires as I turned down my driveway. Rolling to a stop in front of the house, I cut the engine and the quiet settled around me. I climbed out of my little truck, the sound of the door loud in the peaceful night. My footsteps were muted against the packed snow as I walked onto the porch and spun in a slow circle. I didn’t know if it was true, but it felt like the stars were actually closer here in Alaska. They looked near enough for me to reach up and touch them. On cold winter nights, they glittered brightly, like diamonds thrown across the sky.
As I looked up into the darkness, there was a shimmer of green in the distance. The Northern Lights appeared every so often, a translucent curtain rippling across the sky. Streaks of dark and light green formed, shimmering as I watched. My heart squeezed, my breath lost in the moment. The wilderness could steal your breath and make you remember that you were nothing but a speck in its massive theater.
I gulped in the crisp, icy air, allowing it to cleanse my lungs, and misting when I exhaled. With one last look at the stars and the sky, just as a raven called through the darkness, I walked inside. I toed my boots off and hung my jacket by the door. In a burst of energy the other day, I had gotten a Christmas tree. I couldn’t bear to cut a tree, so I had gotten a small spruce that I could plant next spring. Bright blue lights circled the branches, with a big star on top and nothing else.
I didn’t have any plans for Christmas, although Ivy had texted yesterday and invited me to come to Diamond Creek. I was undecided, but I would probably go if only because I didn’t want to be alone.
I started a fire in the woodstove and then flicked on the television, attempting to lose myself in mindless shows. Over and over again, that record started playing in my mind—Max’s words and my reaction to them.
Chapter Thirty
Max
“This is bullshit,” I commented, looking at Owen across the table.
My best friend nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Most definitely. We’ve already put a stop to it, but now we need to decide what to do next.”
We were at the headquarters of the small engineering firm we had acquired, meeting privately in the conference room. One of the lead engineers had attempted to essentially steal several of the primary patented designs. We learned about this through our internal monitoring. The other lead engineer had also sent us an email about it.
The team here was strong and capable, staffed with excellent engineers. They had done good work for this company. I completely understood the urge to take ownership of the work. Yet, this guy didn’t seem to understand that all of his research and time had been paid for and buttressed by the work of others on his team. The company owned the patents. He didn’t seem to have enough sense to realize that if we hadn’t stepped in and bought the company out, he’d have been in a much worse position than he was now, with the patents parceled off through the bankruptcy process.
The cascade of events that could have happened would’ve been substantially worse. In this situation, we had actually offered the engineer the same position, with better pay, if he chose to stay. We would deal with his actions, but it likely meant letting him go.
“We’ll talk with him today and explain the options,” I said.
Owen nodded. “No need to take any disciplinary action. We can offer him a clean option to walk away and leave it at that. If, and that’s a big if, he wants to remain here, we need to have some serious discussions about safeguards and his commitment to our work.”
“You want to give him a shot? That is, if he wants to stay.”
Owen drummed his fingertips on the table and shrugged. “I don’t actually know. I know he’s skilled as hell. The work he did before he was at this company speaks for itself. I’m guessing he’s just not thinking clearly. He got too hung up on the idea that designs belong to him since he was part of creating them.”
I shook my head and chuckled. “I’m guessing Ivy argued to keep him.”
Owen threw his head back with a laugh and shru
gged. “Of course she did. You know how she is. She’s focused only on his engineering and design skills. I did point out that we’d have to put some monitoring in place long-term after he pulled this. But she insisted it’s a sign that he’s passionate about his work.”
Taking a sip of my coffee, I rolled my eyes. “Passionate, huh? It’s not that I don’t see her point. Let’s meet with him together and see what we think afterwards.”
This afternoon had been busy. Before I’d left to go stay with Harlow for a few days, I had already set the wheels in motion to get the signage changed on the building and whatnot. The workers were here today taking care of that. We had decided to use the name of Owen’s company—Off the Grid—on the building, website, and more. Considering that we intended to keep this place based here in Anchorage, it made sense to use a name that was familiar in Alaska. My company would remain listed as a primary owner on all the legal paperwork only, although I would have just as much involvement in running the business.
The patents in question that had led to this personnel scuffle were valuable. They related to battery life for fuel cells, in addition to more efficient methods of wind capture. We wanted them, and we would definitely use them. Unlike the prior owners, between Owen’s company and mine, we already had the capacity to put them on the market much sooner than if this company had remained independent.
With workers scattered about the building changing signs, even the admin staff were on edge. Sometimes, I wondered how often management held back on letting staff know how dire the finances were toward the end stages of a company. In this case, it appeared they had given a few clues, but they hadn’t let it out that they were staring down bankruptcy within a matter of months. There had been no viable way out at the time. That said, I’d learned over the years that human nature in business tended toward denial. That wasn’t to imply people were stupid, just that they hoped for the best, even when it made no sense.
Often, when businesses were glorified in the press, the nitty-gritty details were left out. The dry, often boring, logistics associated with budgeting and long-term planning weren’t too sexy when it came to news spreads on startups. With renewable energy all the rage these days—not politically, per se, but socially—cutting edge engineering companies that were trying to make strides in this technology were often in the news. The state of their business, separate from their star projects, was often left out of any news reports.
In short, most of the staff here didn’t have all the details on just how dire the situation had been. When I notified the receptionist for the former CEO, who was now technically my receptionist, that we needed to meet with the engineer who had attempted to steal those designs, I thought her eyebrows were about to fly off her forehead.
Owen had taken a call in the executive conference room, so I decided to take a moment to try to set her at ease. Leaning my hip against the desk, I looked over at her.
“Harriet, I promise you don’t need to worry about your job. No one here needs to worry about jobs getting cut. Owen and I know transitions like this are challenging. I’m sorry for that. I was under the impression that the former owners had given you a bit more information on the financial status of the company. It wasn’t good. In fact, it was so bad, that they were facing bankruptcy within a matter of months. There was no good way out other than for someone else to buy the company.”
Harriet, who I had come to learn was a steady, more than competent administrative support person, looked at me quietly. I took it as a good sign that her eyebrows had lowered from her hairline. With her short, curly brown hair and kind blue eyes, she gave off a warm, supportive air. I could only imagine that the naturally expected waves of gossip and emotion associated with the company being sold off had rattled her. Whether it was warranted or not, administrative staff—particularly someone in her position—often ended up at the center of the storm, so to speak, when things like this happened. I would have been willing to bet that some staff thought she knew what was coming, regardless of whether she did or not.
After a moment, she nodded slowly. “People are a little upset. Overall, everyone seems to like you. Bill has been frustrated with the situation. He had a lot of leeway under the former management, and I think he’s concerned he won’t have the same flexibility going forward. I didn’t know everything, but I was aware the company wasn’t financially stable. If there’s anything I can do to help settle some feathers, please let me know.”
For a moment, I considered offering her a raise on the spot. I’d learned over the years as the CEO of my own company that it was damn hard to train attitude and ethics, if not impossible. Harriet had both in spades. Yet, now wasn’t the time to casually offer up a raise. Once Owen and I had a better handle on the situation, she’d be on the top of the list.
Pushing my hip off the desk, I nodded. “I appreciate that. I think just doing what you’ve already been doing is helpful. We’ll muddle through this transition. I can assure you the company will stay financially stable going forward. We wouldn’t have chosen to purchase the company if we hadn’t believed we could stabilize the situation. In the meantime, if you don’t mind buzzing Bill down, I’ll be in the conference room with Owen.”
Harriet smiled. “Of course, I’ll have him come down right now.”
That evening, I leaned back in my chair, at a table in the very bar where I’d seen Harlow less than a week prior. Owen and I had stayed at the corporate offices until it was quite late, reviewing financials and personnel information, along with a deep dive into current projects.
I was relieved to have been legitimately quite busy all day because I had not wanted to leave Harlow a few days ago. Harlow had ignored every text and call since, and I fucking hated it. I was torn with what to do about it. I really wanted to storm back to Willow Brook and demand she stop avoiding me. Just as strongly, I suspected she would not appreciate that approach at all.
Owen was finishing a call with Ivy, and I glanced around the restaurant while I waited. The hotel had decorated for Christmas, with lights strung about the bar, and a small tree on a table in a corner. My mother had called today and asked when I would be flying home. Normally, I would’ve simply asked her what day was best and made arrangements. Although Ivy had teased about worrying about me over the holidays, my workaholic habits had eased slightly in the last few years. With my company on stable ground now, I had the ability to set the terms for my schedule.
The only hesitation I had about going home was I wanted some sort of resolution with Harlow before I left Alaska. If I had my way, she would come home with me. I didn’t like the idea of her being alone over the holidays. Not one bit.
“If all goes well, I should be on the way home tomorrow, or the day after,” Owen said, pausing and glancing my way. I presumed Ivy was saying something. “Of course, I’ll tell Max. Love you, bye.”
Lowering the phone from his ear, Owen set it on the table beside him. I took a swallow of my whiskey, and eyed him. “What do you need to tell Max?” I asked with a wink.
Owen chuckled and took a sip of his drink before replying. “She’s hoping you’ll come to Diamond Creek for Christmas if you’re not going home.”
“She’ll have to get in line behind my mom.”
“So you’re heading to Pennsylvania then?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. My parents would love to have me there. If I don’t make it for Christmas, I’ll definitely visit them sometime within the next month.”
“If you’re not going to Pennsylvania now, then where will you be for Christmas? I’m not asking because I’m nosy. I’m asking because Ivy will ask, and I’d better have the answer.”
Draining my whiskey, I set my glass down with a chuckle. “Well, you can tell her I’m hoping to be wherever Harlow happens to be. If Harlow will answer my damn calls.”
“What do you mean?”
I hadn’t set out to talk about Harlow, but I’d been mentally spinning my wheels on her for days now and needed someone else’s
lens on it. “She’s been ignoring me. Not replying to texts or calls. I’m considering just showing up at her doorstep, but I’m not so sure she would appreciate that.”
Owen arched a brow, his gaze thoughtful. “I know Ivy invited her down to visit with us. Ivy’s parents will be at the house, so if Harlow comes, she’ll be staying at the lodge.”
Our waitress passed by after delivering food to another table, pausing beside us when I caught her eye. I ordered another drink, if only because I needed something to settle my nerves. That was saying something because only Harlow could rattle me like this. I didn’t like how out of control I felt.
All she had done was ignore me, and it was the most powerful thing anyone had ever done. It made me feel fucking helpless.
When I glanced back to Owen, he actually looked concerned for me. “That bad, huh?”
“I’m not used to anyone ignoring me,” I said flatly.
“I don’t think that’s what’s getting to you.”
“All right, what’s getting to me then?” I was irritable, and it was evident in my tone.
Owen shook his head slowly. “You don’t know what the hell to do about Harlow. Since I’m the same way, it’s easy to see. You like to plan things out, to manage them. There’s a reason you’re successful in business. Relationships aren’t like business. There are factors beyond your control.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered, throwing a glare his way.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harlow
The flames flashed high in the sky, bright in the darkness. I stood beside Susannah and watched as the roof fell in on the house. Although she and I weren’t on the same crew, our crews had responded together to this fire. A ramshackle home on the outskirts of Willow Brook had caught fire. We wouldn’t know until the fire was completely out, but all signs pointed to it starting in the woodstove. My best guess was that the owners hadn’t bothered to clean the chimney before winter this year.