It's Not a Date

by Heather Blackmore

  Kade was somehow helping him do that, helping him live whatever kind of life he would now have. Clocks and a train set. Simple things that made life worth living for this man.

  Yes, he was a man for whom Kade had unresolved, mixed feelings. She could have refused to transfer him to this facility or withheld these small pleasures in order to force a conversation about Cassie’s death, but chances were remote that such a discussion—which Gordon was physically incapable of having at present—would have led to his apology or an understanding between them. It hadn’t over the course of years and was no more likely now.

  But what kind of person would she be if she had the power to bring him comfort and help him improve, yet made their delivery contingent upon him telling her something she wanted to hear?

  She’d be like him. Petty at best. Contemptible at worst. She shuddered. She could never require that they resolve their differences before she treated him with simple decency.

  A thought occurred to her. Why would she treat herself less favorably than this ill-tempered man? Why withhold from herself small things that could make her happy? Gordon was hardly the most deserving person Kade knew, yet even he ought to be surrounded by meaningful things. Was she less worthy of happiness than her father? Was she less deserving of taking restorative steps to return to the land of the living?

  These and similar questions began to swirl in her consciousness, taking up residence. They occupied the same space as her anger toward Gordon, forcing it to shrink, reducing its power.

  Could she one day lay to rest her animosity toward her father? She didn’t have much faith in the possibility, but she also didn’t have as much negative power whirling within her. She was certain of it. On a storm index, the ferocity of Kade’s bitterness had already diminished a category or two.

  Was this the direction Jen had anticipated things going in when nudging Kade to spend time with Gordon? On one hand, it seemed unlikely Jen could have been so unreasonably optimistic after learning Kade and Gordon’s history. On the other, here Kade was, feeling less ill-will toward him.

  As she was beginning to learn from being in a relationship for the first time, optimism didn’t have to be part of her natural disposition for her to start thinking positively. It all seemed to stem from Jen. Kade had never seen her future look so promising.

  * * *

  After eight, while relaxing on her veranda with a glass of wine, Kade decided to call Jen and get an update on her chances to see her tonight.

  “Kadrienne.” Jen answered in a gravelly voice as if she’d been chewing on rocks.

  Full name and tone of voice said Kade was in trouble. Holly used both on her all the time, but it was a first from Jen. “What’s wrong?” Kade asked, sitting up straight.

  “Did you perchance express to anyone within Matlock that you had doubts about my ability to lead my company?”

  Kade’s stomach clenched. “What happened?”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  Kade took a deep breath. “I was on the fence once. You know that. I never said I believed you weren’t up for the job.”

  “Never said it or never believed it?”

  “Jen, it’s my job to thoroughly evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of every CEO I work with. What’s this about?”

  “I would hope that if you have reservations about my effectiveness as a leader, you’d have told me personally, so I could address whatever was at issue.”

  “I have. I did.”

  “So this is about you thinking I haphazardly flaked on our meetings? I thought we went over this.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Please tell me.”

  “Check your inbox.” An absence of ambient noise signaled the call had ended.

  Kade’s phone notified her of an incoming message. When she opened the app, she found an email from Jen.

  Subject: Term Sheet.

  Our first-term sheet, attached. –Jen

  Kade clicked open the file and scanned its contents. It was from Matlock Ventures, and if signed by Creative Care, the company would be agreeing to immediately begin an executive search for a new CEO post-funding.

  Essentially, if Jen accepted Roger’s offer, she would be fired.

  “God damn it! What the…” She entered the kitchen and managed to set her phone on the counter, when what she really wanted to do was throw it. “Fuck!”

  Furious with Roger for blindsiding her, she tried to move past the anger enough to think. This couldn’t be happening. Surely Roger would have given her a heads-up? And why would he include such a stipulation in the first place? Jen was living the quintessential example of someone who would benefit from the platform Creative Care was building. She offered prospective investors a hands-on, personal view of both the problem and the solution. And she’d engendered loyalty in her team not only by highlighting the real-world importance of the issue Creative Care was solving, but by caring about their well-being as individuals with lives outside of work. It was who Jen was as a person.

  Her failure to mention these facts to Roger hit Kade like a punch to her gut.

  She needed to see Jen. Explain. Apologize.

  She headed to her car, calling Holly as she walked out of her condo. “Find Roger and get me his first available appointment. I don’t care how early or late.”

  * * *

  Most of the people who lived on Jen’s street parked in their garages or driveways, which made cars on the street stand out. Jen could tell as soon as she turned onto her block that a vehicle was stationed in front of her house.

  Surprises seemed to be the order of the day, and seeing Kade waiting for her tonight wasn’t worse than finding out a top-tier VC firm thought Jen should be fired, but not by much. Jen didn’t have any kind words for Kade at the moment, and she tried to live by the maxim, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” She clicked open the garage door and pulled in without waving or rolling down a window, hoping Kade would get the message. But before she could click it closed, Kade was inside the garage, standing beside her car as she opened the door.

  “Jen, please.”

  “I have nothing to say to you. Please leave.”

  “Let me explain.”

  “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”

  “I didn’t know what Roger Daniels had planned.”

  “Stalking doesn’t become you, Kadrienne.”

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  Jen threw up her arms before crossing them. “Why? Too impersonal? I’ll tell you what’s impersonal. Taking a call from a VC and having him walk me through a term sheet that stipulates my departure from my own company. A company I…”

  She stopped short. What good would it do to list everything Creative Care meant to her? She’d started the company from nothing, initially bootstrapping it with a second mortgage and building it by working her ass off for the last two years. Its mission actually meant something to her and could make a difference to people like her who struggled to find quality, affordable home care for someone they loved. Now she was supposed to simply sign on the dotted line and walk away as if she hadn’t put her heart and soul into every aspect of the operation?

  She stared at Kade, a woman in whom she’d put her trust, shared private misgivings and concerns about the company. How much of what she’d told Kade in confidence had found its way into Roger’s offer?

  No. This was Kade, one of the most honest people she knew. She wouldn’t have revealed information disclosed off the record.

  Yet business took precedence for Kade. If a senior partner of the firm it had taken her own sweat equity to break into had solicited her feedback, would she have remained mute about her concerns? How else could Jen explain the highly irregular term-sheet stipulation?

  The fact that she was even questioning Kade’s integrity and motivations meant they shouldn’t be talking. But being mindful enough to understand this notion conceptually didn’t mean Jen was above taking p
ot shots, no matter how much she knew she’d regret them later. The wound was too fresh and too deep not to flinch.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s only my company, my job, and my passion at stake. No big deal. If you’ll excuse this incompetent fool, I’m calling it a night.”

  The automatic light from the garage door opener wasn’t bright, but she couldn’t mistake the hurt in Kade’s eyes. Jen took no satisfaction from it. She was lashing out like an injured animal but couldn’t stop herself. She was overwhelmed and disheartened by the prospect that the only way Creative Care could continue was if she walked away from it. Her baby. Her dream. Emotionally battered and discombobulated, she found herself laying the blame at Kade’s feet.

  Kade’s trembling jaw was the only communication she seemed capable of making in light of the distance now stretching between them like an ocean.

  Jen took the single step up to the back door leading to the laundry room and turned to Kade. “You were right, Kade. Congratulations. You hurt me. But if you don’t mind, let’s skip the I-told-you-so.” She touched the button to close the garage door before slipping inside the house, forcing Kade to head swiftly for the driveway.

  As the heavy door swung closed and snapped securely into place, Kade sensed she was being locked outside of Jen’s heart. The ensuing darkness felt reminiscent of the cloak of dread that had covered her as she watched the snowmobiles head up the mountain in search of Cassie.

  This is what Kade had feared from the beginning. She’d gone ahead and done it again in colossal fashion—wounded someone she loved. Nothing like taking aim at the center of someone’s universe, obliterating it, and tipping your hat to let them know it was your doing. Having come here to explain, she’d fallen silent. What could she say? She had no excuse. Unless and until she had an alternative opportunity for Creative Care, she had nothing to offer.

  Her desire to take Jen into her arms and whisper promises she had no right making would be as welcome to Jen as Roger’s precondition. A yearning to protect Jen surged through her like wildfire—how ironic that the sole thing Jen needed defense from was Kade.

  She had to leave Jen alone. She’d known it all along.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Holly was typing away on her laptop at Kade’s conference table when she arrived at the office the following day. “Roger’s out this morning, but he’ll swing by after his eleven o’clock, sometime around twelve thirty. What else do you need?”

  Kade sat at her desk and brought her laptop to life. “I expect Jen Spencer or Jeremy Corbin will want to set up a board meeting in the next day or two. I don’t care if I have to cancel a meeting with the president, book the first time that works for them.”

  “Will do. Want to fill me in?”

  Kade met Holly at the small table and apprised her of Matlock’s term sheet and stipulation. “The financial terms are reasonable and competitive, but it’s not the right call for Creative Care. Jen needs to be at the helm.”

  “Does she know you feel that way?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Had I not expressed my doubts to Roger early on, he would never have included his requirement. She knows that.”

  “What do you intend to do about it?”

  Kade smiled mirthlessly. “There’s no coming back from this. That company means the world to her.”

  “So do you.”

  Kade thought back to their recent night together and all the hope it had inspired. Hope had been like a powerful drug that had caused Kade to willingly ignore her own internal warnings because being with Jen felt magical, otherworldly. Jen was the forbidden fruit Kade couldn’t refuse, and now she needed to pay the price of indulging in her heart’s desires.

  Holly’s voice brought her back to the conversation. “Yes, she’s going to be hurt. Yes, she’s going to be mad. Who wouldn’t be? But she’ll get over it. Kade, this is business, your forte. Make it right.”

  In terms of their relationship, Jen was clearly uninterested in explanations, but Kade needed her to know where she stood on the term sheet. Jen respected her opinion when it came to business matters. The least she could do was share it. She couldn’t make things right between them, but she could bring her resources to bear on behalf of Creative Care.

  Wheels were already turning in a new direction. Kade felt them churning as she studied her friend, a talented assistant with a bright future. Kade knew Holly’s loyalties but owed it to her to offer options. A number of Matlock’s partners had expressed to Kade how impressed they were with Holly’s efficiency and professionalism. They never knew that to Kade, Holly was far more than a competent assistant. “Matlock’s a top-tier firm. Are you interested in working for anyone else here?”

  “Besides you? You know better than to ask.”

  “My days might be numbered.”

  Holly closed her laptop, arched an eyebrow, and gave Kade her undivided attention.

  “I might do something really crazy in the next twenty-four hours,” Kade said.

  Holly grinned. “I like it already.”

  * * *

  Roger’s rap on Kade’s door brought her head up from her screen. “Got a minute?” he asked.

  She rose and indicated that they sit at her conference table. “Thanks for fitting me in today. I was hoping to discuss the term sheet you sent to Creative Care.”

  “I realize it’s not typical.”

  “No. And I don’t want to jump to conclusions, so may I ask what convinced you that Jen Spencer isn’t the right person for the role?”

  He crossed his ankle on his knee and nodded slowly, as if carefully considering his response. “I gave her the benefit of the doubt you expressed, Kadrienne, and I appreciated her warning at the start of our meeting that she might have to take a phone call. But I was troubled when a call came in such that she left halfway through and had the CTO, Jeremy Corbin, pinch-hit. It was a clear signal of priorities and intentions. Like you, I agree with the fundamentals and like the prospects of the business. I think we can find someone with a strong health-care background to lead it.”

  “She’s proved that a health-care background isn’t a requirement for the job.”

  “She’s also proved Creative Care isn’t her top priority, and I’m not interested in investing in that situation.”

  “You’re putting me in a difficult position. As a board member, I have to do what I think is best for the shareholders, not Matlock.”

  “You must also put the interests of the shareholders over any personal interest. Is there something I need to know?”

  Kade always appreciated Roger’s intelligence, and he was clearly seeing there was more at play than she had shared. “I’m not a fan of ultimatums, Roger, and I imagine you aren’t either. But I have to ask. If my staying at Matlock Ventures was predicated on you revising that term sheet to remove the stipulation about the executive search, would you revise it, leave it as is, or would you pull it altogether?”

  “I value your work here far more than our investment with one company.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “But you realize once Matlock has a board seat, I can’t make promises about the longevity of the management team. Plus, I’ve already shown my hand. Even if I revise the term sheet, Jen knows she’s on the hot seat.”

  “Yes. And I realize if you withdraw your offer, it wouldn’t help the company’s prospects.”

  “No. Are we losing you over this, Kadrienne?”

  Kade valued her relationship with Roger and saw no reason to prevaricate. “I don’t know. You’ve done nothing wrong, so it feels unfair and disloyal to be irresolute.”

  “Had I known Creative Care was special to you, I’d have consulted you. I thought I was making it easier on you by not involving you and not having you risk your objectivity.”

  Kade shook her head and sliced a palm through the air to cut him off from the idea that any of this was his fault. “You acted fairly based on the information you had. And I appreciate you trying to keep me out of i
t.” She smiled. “Unfortunately, I’m completely in over my head when it comes to my involvement with that company and its founder. Nothing you can do could change that.”

  “I’m sorry if my offer has put you in an uncomfortable position.”

  “You couldn’t have known. The thing is, I’ve been considering starting my own firm and fund, and for whatever reason, this feels like the kick start I needed.”

  Roger smiled knowingly. “‘For whatever reason?’”

  Kade felt heat in her cheeks. “Regardless of where we go from here, I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful for the opportunity you and the other partners have given me.”

  Roger stood and extended his hand. “You’ve been an excellent addition to our team. Whatever your future holds, and I hope Matlock holds it, you’ll always be welcome here.”

  Kade shook his hand. “Thank you for understanding what I don’t even know myself.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Kade laughed. “Not in a million years. I’m so far in the doghouse, the postal service will start delivering my mail there, and the city will charge for utilities.”

  Roger grinned. “Sounds like my first marriage. I preferred to call it my man cave.”

  * * *

  Jen watched as Jeremy led Kade to the conference room and commandeered it from two employees working through an issue on the whiteboards. It wouldn’t take long for him to come collect her, and Jen wished she could prolong the wait. She still hadn’t figured out how to strike a balance between standing up for herself and giving Kade the benefit of the doubt. As she tracked Kade’s movements, she also hadn’t figured out how to immunize herself from the effect of seeing her. Feelings of hurt and anger couldn’t extinguish the rush of pleasure she experienced whenever Kade was near, and part of her hoped they never would.