Crushing

by Kelly Kay

  “Hello, Jennifer. It’s Noelle Parker and…”

  I fly into the Farmhouse screaming before the door can close behind me. I’m yelling in a voice I’ve never heard before, pure rage. I come in hot. The dogs cower in the corner.

  “JOSH! FUCKING JOSH! ARE YOU IN HERE? JOSHUA FUCKING WHITTIER. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW!”

  He emerges from the back sunporch with Will as Sarah bolts down the stairs. I stride across the room, covering the distance between us in seconds. I get right in his face. I’m grateful I have sky-high heels on to see his smug face better. Mine is scarlet with heat, and fury is radiating off me.

  He speaks patronizingly, “Did you just fucking summon me?”

  I breathe through my gritted teeth and lower my volume. “Yes! Why did you cancel my French Laundry dinner?”

  “Oh, that.” He turns away from me.

  Will opens his mouth, and I hold my hand to stop him from speaking. No, no Will, I’ll bury this asshole all on my own.

  “Look, you muthafucking cocksucker.”

  He turns back towards me, placing his hands on hips. His legs are in a wide and commanding stance. I’m not intimidated, I’m in the red zone and I drop my purse to the ground and mirror his stance.

  I continue to yell, “I don’t give a shit if you call me stupid names, convince Randy and the rest of the staff that I’m the devil, avoid photo shoots, waste my time, and do everything in your power to undermine my confidence and job. I don’t give a flying fuck about the stupid ass games we've been playing back and forth. I’ve taken a lot more from men in this business and in my lifetime. You’re a fucking amateur at it.”

  I take another deep breath and unleash. For a second, I worry about Will and Sarah and look to them. Sarah nods as if to tell me to keep going. Will puts his hands in his pockets as he locks eyes with me. He seems concerned but not angry at me for screaming at his son. The longer I don’t speak, the tenser he becomes. I see the strain in his neck.

  I breathe in and out. Then I attack slow and low. I don’t care if they learn of our history, I don’t care if I lose this piece of business right now. This is my whole life he fucked with.

  “All those games are nothing. But this stunt of yours is unfathomable. A bit of a disproportionate response for simply giving you an inconvenient hard-on.” He shifts his weight, and I lay into him further. “But now that your arrogant, selfish, useless ass fucked with my livelihood, my career, my reputation, my employees, and my fucking company, I feel an intense need to tear your balls from your body and feed them to the fucking dogs! You muthafucking asshole prick.”

  His arms are still crossed, and his blue eyes cold and unfeeling staring at me. All my blood is pounding in my ears. My veins pumping pure fire and rage. I want to fucking kill him.

  He speaks in a condescending tone. “I lost a possible four-million-dollar investor because of your little hard-on stunt.” Sarah smirks.

  “Four million your company can afford to lose. And if you couldn’t close the deal, that’s not my fault. I was only in the room for five minutes. Tell me why you did this?”

  He raises his voice and it’s stern as if he’s trying to scold me. “I canceled your little dinner because we’re not going to have anything to do with your boyfriend. End of discussion.” I’m going to eviscerate this dickhole.

  Will speaks before I can, “Son, what are you talking about?”

  “Dad, stay out of it. I canceled her LaChappelle/Whittier wine expert dinner that’s on your calendar. I sent an email to all attendees telling them the dinner was not only canceled but won’t be rescheduled. That they are not welcome to do business with us. I called the restaurant, car service and Fairmont Hotel and canceled all reservations this morning. This winery will have nothing to do with Asher Bernard and his fake…”

  I push my intense nausea down. A yell erupts from the bottom of my soul, and I shove him. He stumbles backward. He looks shocked that I pushed him. “IT WASN’T A WINERY DINNER!”

  I’m shaking all over, but I continue yelling. “Asshole. Oh. My. God. I can’t believe you did this to me. I can’t believe you hate me so much that you would ruin me. Ruin my business. You hate me so much that it’s not enough to fuck up this job but my entire life and the lives of my seventy-four employees and contractors. I knew you were an asshole, but I had no idea you were this cruel and calculating. Where are your ethics? Who the hell are you?”

  “Stop being melodramatic.” He turns, and I shove him again.

  “This was a client dinner for MY business. This is my reputation and my company’s reputation you screwed over. My life is not a game for a bored venture capitalist slumming it at Mommy and Daddy's. It was a Parker & Company event. My largest clients and four enormous prospects that I have romanced and massaged for two fucking years. It took me six months to get everyone to agree on a date. It took thousands of dollars in deposits, hotels, and plane tickets. I lose all that money.” I’m pacing, and I realize something else, “Fuck me. I paid Chef Keller a large deposit for an exclusive buyout. And you canceled on him last minute. I will get nothing back. No one will ever take me seriously again. The clients are gone. So bad. This is so bad. Fuck you so very much, Josh.”

  His face is sallow. He moves his hands into his pockets and stares at me. I continue my tirade, so I don’t fall in a weeping mess, rage fueling me forward.

  I say in the coldest voice possible so that I don’t start crying, “It took my whole fucking career to plan that dinner. This has nothing to do with you. But I guess you couldn’t help but make it about you. I thought you’d have more respect for someone who built their own business. Are you a misogynist or unscrupulous? You just fucked me up the ass for at least the next five years, if we survive this. You fucked my employees, their families, my partner, and screwed over my business and me pretty fucking good. If I can’t fix this, we’ll be dead in the water within a year.”

  “Your dinner?” he croaks out without displaying emotion.

  Now I need his ego crushed. I go in for the kill. His guilt and suffering will be my only solace. Suffer, asshole. Bow down to my fucking revenge rage. I glance at Sarah, who is ashen, and Will, who nods to me. They know what’s coming next. They look a bit horrified to see their son in this light, but this isn’t even the worst of it from their perspective. I look again to Will to see if he wants to be the one to tell him the rest of the truth. Or if they want me to keep that to myself.

  “Go ahead, Elle. Tell him. We got you.” Josh’s head jerks to his father, and he turns and walks to the other side of the room.

  His mother takes a deep breath in and then exhales loudly. “It’s okay, dear, tell him.”

  Josh looks thoroughly lost and turns back to me. My voice becomes steely as I say, “And you know what, you self-centered prick? What about the words “wine expert” made you think it was Asher? I paid a handsome sum of money to secure two people who have been authorities and leaders in the wine industry for thirty-seven years. I was going to feature their innovative, exciting female winemaker who has over twenty years of expertise.”

  “Who?” he commands.

  Sarah speaks from the bottom of the stairs, and our heads snap to her, “Us. You myopic, foolish little boy. I’m not sure how you got so much of your grandfather in you and so little of your father and me.”

  She runs up the stairs, cutting him down with a soft sentence and a look faster than any tirade of mine ever could. With my adrenaline overtaking me, I have to leave before he sees me sob. I can’t take the pressure anymore. I’m going to explode into a torrent of tears.

  Josh nods at me like he’s going to speak. I run from the building.

  “Let her go, son. Leave her alone.” I hear Will command as the door to the Farmhouse slams behind me.

  I barely make it to the hill that leads to the amphitheater. I’m out of sight and standing there stunned. I hear his commanding footfalls as he calls for me. I stay hidden, falling sobbing to the ground.

  Chapte
r Thirty-Three

  Josh

  I don’t know what to do. I can’t find Elle. I’m not sure what I’d say if I did. I’m an arrogant, cocky piece of shit. I have so many apologies to make. I fucked up. Fuck. My guilt bubbles up, and I punch the door to the tasting room, cracking both my hand and the thick wooden barn door. The pain momentarily puts a stop to my crushing guilt. Back in my parents’ kitchen, I thrust my bloody hand under the faucet.

  My father’s been waiting for me and is leaning up against the fridge. He wears a look I saw my whole childhood. I can see the level of his disappointment, and it’s too much to fucking take.

  “Damn, boy. You fucked up. Seems you brought a canon to a knife fight.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He asks, “Is your hand okay?” His genuine concern shreds my heart.

  “Fine.”

  My mom crosses the room, her face wet from tears. I’m reduced to a raw piece of nothing seeing her face. She pulls out an icepack and wraps it in a towel. She places the icepack on top of my already swollen knuckles. She’s taking care of me after I disappointed her so desperately. She puts her hand on my cheek, and I squeeze my eyes shut. She grabs her tea and leaves the Farmhouse. I assume she’s heading to find Elle. And then a wave of nausea overtakes me, and I puke in the sink. I spit, wipe my mouth, and face my dad.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You better be. I’m going to take this in pieces, the personal first. The thought that your parents are wine experts never crossed your mind. Do you think your mom and I are up here pretending? That what we do is inconsequential? That we’re as flighty as you were taught by your grandfather? He’s been dead a good long time, and the winery still thrives.”

  I lift my hand in front of me and settle back against the kitchen island. My father stands directly in front of me. He’s the most forthright man I know. As much as I want to run from his disappointing look, I owe him this. I will take this like the man I hope I can become.

  “You’re the one, despite how your grandfather, Lucien fucking LaChappelle, tried, who has little to no knowledge of this place. You aren’t the expert here. We have almost four decades of rising and falling with the harvest and keeping this farm and these employees in the black. Four fucking decades, son. That was Lucien talking today, out of your mouth. That was your ruthless, cruel, and imprudent grandfather guiding your actions, right down to the violence you clearly exhibited. And despite your incredible insensitivity towards Elle—that’s why your mother’s crying.”

  “Dad.”

  “I must have done a shitty job teaching you respect, honor, and compassion if you’d do something this brash and selfish. It’s our business to ruin or thrive. Not yours. You’re not part of this sale. Even if it were Asher at that dinner, you have no authority to act on our behalf. Is this what you’re like in the world?”

  I am. I take, conquer, and have no remorse. I never think about the businesses I might be ruining by providing capital for a rival company. I’m thunderstruck by this revelation. I do think it’s a game, but I never thought I’d gone that far over the edge. It’s all relative. Everyone I know outside of this world is like that.

  “Answer me, boy. Dammit. You fucking wrecked your mother. Talk to me.”

  And my answer roars at my father. “I am that. I am cruel and cold in the real world. Fuck. How did I end up like Lucien? I left so I wouldn’t become him.”

  My dad crosses to me and takes me in his arms, not an easy task as I have three inches on him.

  “You’re not him. I’m not going to let you be. Show us you’re not Lucien. You fix this with both of those women. I know Elle’s not important to you, but she’s important to us. I know you don’t care about her at all. But at the very base of this, be a human being. You had no right to do what you did. But you better figure out a way to save her business without compromising her integrity. Put away the wrecking ball you just used to destroy her life.”

  I step back from him. We stand there for a while.

  I finally break our silence. “Can’t. That wrecking ball is the only thing that might just save her company.”

  My mind is reeling with the favors I’ll need to call in and for all the money I’m going to spend. I turn to leave and go find my mom. But my dad needs to know something despite my best efforts. Nausea rises again. Despite my irritation and anger at her most of the time. I hurt her badly and honestly that wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t thinking. I was trying to win the game. At this point, I’m not even sure why I was trying to stop the sale instead of talking to my parents about it.

  I clouded her usually vibrant green eyes with tears, hate, and betrayal. It’s killing me. How could I do that to her? I will fix this shit. I am shit. I came home to save my parents and the winery, and I just got fucking lost. They didn’t need saving. I have no place here, but if I ever want to fit back into my family, I’m going to need to make amends for more than just this. Afterward, I’ll figure out what to do about Elle and myself. I know I don’t hate her, but I’m pretty sure she despises me now.

  “Dad. You’re wrong. I do care about her.” I tried to deny the connection I feel. But it’s always simmering just below the surface. I will address it head-on, but first I need to solve my mess.

  “Another thing you’re wrong about, son, Asher’s not her boyfriend. Never really was. They dated a couple of times. He’s nothing to her. He just brought her to the dinner. Divine intervention sat her next to us at that table.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Elle

  I checked into the Ritz Carlton San Francisco four days ago without seeing him. I’ve been on the phone and down to Silicon Valley trying to salvage my existing business. The business was shaky to begin with, and then to fly their executives in from across the country with nowhere for them to stay and getting that terrible brush off email, I’ve had to assure them over and over that it was a mix-up. I think I put a lid on them, leaving me for being inconsequential, unprofessional, and rude. I told them what happened in a manner of speaking. I talk of crossed wires. Their mistrust in Parker & Co. might last for a minute or so, but we can repair that.

  The prospective clients didn’t give a shit about excuses. They shuffled me off the phone and out of their buildings. They don’t know me or the way that I work or how terrific my company is. They just see that I blew them off. They see Apple getting nervous and we look a bit like a sinking ship who can’t manage a simple dinner. I won’t get another shot at them. I’m headed back into prospector mode. It’s all I have. I have to start again. I have to make up the lost projected revenue somehow.

  LaChappelle/Whittier goes to the back burner. I head to New York the day after tomorrow. Sarah and Will understood but were disappointed I’m leaving. I am too. I’ll manage them from New York. I never really needed to stay here. I just liked it. It started to feel familiar and comfortable. I’ve spent three months in constant contact with them, and we’ve grown close.

  Oh, but there’s no way I’ll ever get to eat at French Laundry. They didn’t give a shit why I wasn’t there, just that I wasted their time and effort. They demanded all the money for the buyout. Our corporate account couldn’t handle the added last-minute cancellation fee. I pulled money from my personal accounts to cover it. I should send Josh the fucking bill.

  I deleted the email Josh sent to me without reading it. He has no idea where I am. I never have to see him again. Despite whatever I felt for him or thought he might be, he’s proven that he’s the last thing I want. Even when we were fighting the last three weeks, it felt like teasing or flirting a bit. But now I know the truth. Not only did he prove that our evening meant nothing to him, but now I know how inconsequential I am to him. I’m a joke in his eyes. It’s the only justification for how he could do that to me.

  After I talked to Sarah, I realized what he did to me was business, but what he did to them was personal. He has lots of repair work to do there. She was devastated to see herself through his eyes. I hope the s
tress doesn’t trigger tremors or anything worse. We’re having lunch today to discuss an account manager so I can go back to running my company. In such a short time, these people have become so important to me. When I talk, they listen. I hope I can be there for her today the same way she’s there for me.

  I’m wearing a bright pink fluttery springy dress from Nanette Lepore, and I leave my hair down and have matching pink lipstick as well. I love lipstick names. This one is called Boom Boom Bloom from MAC. It’s like raspberry, and it reminds me to smile. Whenever I get depressed, a new lipstick always helps. I bought seven of them in the last couple of days. When I was sixteen, it was Maybelline and Wet n Wild from Walgreens, now it’s YSL, MAC or Tom Ford.

  I bought the dress and makeup yesterday. I may have to eat ramen and dye my own hair for the rest of my life because of all of this, but I’m going to look damned good doing it. But Maybelline, here I come again. There’s a knock at the door, and I rush to see Sarah, my heart full. I open the door—and lose my breath. His large and dominant hand blocks my attempt to close it.

  “Please just listen for a moment, Elle, it’s important.”

  He’s wearing the hell out of a navy suit and subtle blue plaid tie that picks up his damn eye color. His hair is coiffed again, not like it has been around the winery. He ruined me, and I don’t know how to get past that. He has so little regard for who I am. It hurts professionally, but it’s a bit devastating personally. His face used to send me to fantasy, but today I want to kill him.

  “I’m not proud of my actions. Elle. I’m incredibly sorry for what I did. I’m not proud of the man I showed you. You should know that other than my parents, I don’t think I’ve really ever said ‘sorry’ to another living person.”