All We Knew

by Jamie Beck

  Gentry blinked, possibly surprised by his lack of sarcasm. She responded with some of her own. “Well, it’d be impossible not to be better with social media than you and Colby.”

  Recognizing her deflection for what it was, he pressed his point, hoping to encourage her.

  “Maybe you could start a social media consulting business,” he suggested, the idea immediately making him excited. As predictably as a Swiss watch, he constructed a mental outline—identify target clients, research fees, estimate overhead, set a budget. “I could help you with a business plan, if you’d like.”

  She looked stunned, but then covered with more sarcasm. “Hunter, this is a party, not a business meeting. You do know what a party is, right?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh at her astute barb. “It’s been a while.”

  Gentry smiled. She could look quite cute and sweet when she smiled, so he hugged her and kissed her forehead again before wandering over to Colby and Alec. A quick glance at his sister’s left hand indicated she wasn’t yet engaged, leaving him to wonder what they might be announcing.

  When he leaned in to kiss her cheek, Colby murmured, “Things are tense with you and Dad?”

  “You could say that.” He swigged more of his beer. “But don’t get involved. Just enjoy the party and all the good stuff going on in your life.”

  “It sucks to be on the outs with your dad.” Alec patted Hunter’s shoulder, referring to his own tortured relationship with his father.

  Hunter would never have imagined being at an impasse with his, but if CTC did end up in someone else’s hands, he also couldn’t promise there wouldn’t be an irreparable breach. That truth caused a pang of disillusionment to strike his chest.

  “I still think he’s not looking good lately, either, Hunter.” His sister’s brows knitted together. “He’s been complaining about joint pain. Is he sick and not telling us? That might explain the sale.”

  She’d mentioned that about a month ago, too. Hunter had noticed a creeping lethargy that had never before been part of his dad’s persona, but the man was sixty-five. Wouldn’t they all be slowing down and be hit with a bit of arthritis in another thirty years? “Dad wouldn’t hide an illness from us.”

  “I wouldn’t think so, but maybe he’s being tested and is waiting for confirmation or something.” Her hushed tone sounded ominous, and for a second, he worried. An illness would explain the otherwise inexplicable decision to consider a sale.

  Hunter cast a sidelong glance toward his dad, who was smiling in conversation with Gentry. Of course he was. Then, ashamed of his petty mental snipe, Hunter looked away from the aggravating scene.

  No. If his dad was sick, he’d tell them. And Jenna wouldn’t be able to keep it quiet, either.

  “I think he’s fine, Colby. Let’s change the subject.” He pivoted back to Alec. “Tell me why we’re having Mexican instead of something you made?”

  “Alec needs a day off now and then,” Colby interjected.

  “I didn’t know Alec couldn’t speak for himself,” Hunter teased.

  “Let’s not pretend either of you would prefer my dishes to high-carb, oversized, cheese-stuffed platters. You and she”—he nodded to Colby—“have terrible palates.”

  “To each his own,” Hunter chuckled.

  “Let’s finally get seated.” Jenna snapped her fingers.

  Hunter stifled a groan and took a silk-covered seat beside his wife at the massive burled-wood dining table. He covered a smirk at the fact that Jenna had transferred the take-out food to fine china platters. Moving a crystal wineglass aside, he set his beer bottle on a coaster.

  Because dinner had been delayed, folks dug in without too much conversation at first. Or maybe it was easier to focus on eating than tap-dancing around uneasy topics—like the business or the possible pregnancy.

  His dad raised his wineglass. “A toast to my little girl on her twenty-sixth birthday. I hope this year brings good surprises for you and for all.”

  Hunter felt his wife’s hand stroking his thigh the way one might comfort a child—a subtle plea not to ruin the dinner. He joined the rest of the family in raising a glass and wishing Gentry well.

  “Any special wishes for the year?” Sara asked, digging in to an enchilada.

  “Not really.” Gentry fell uncharacteristically quiet for a second. Then a sly smile crossed her face, and she cocked a brow while staring at Sara. “Maybe another trip to Napa.”

  Sara’s eyes bugged before she dropped her chin, hiding something from everyone. Hunter made a mental note to find out what Gentry had shared with Sara about that vacation. Then he wondered what other things his wife didn’t tell him, and why.

  “How are things at A CertainTea?” their father asked Colby and Alec.

  “Great. Business is strong.” Colby brightened and looked at Alec. “And Alec and I actually made another big decision.”

  Sara leaned forward, appearing eager to be let in to their confidence. “Do we have another reason to celebrate?”

  “Alec and I are moving in together.” Colby beamed, although Alec flushed a bit.

  Hunter was happy for his friend’s and sister’s newfound love, however unexpected and slightly awkward. Still, he smiled. “Congrats. Will you be moving to Colby’s in the city, or is she coming this way?”

  “I’m putting my condo on the market, and then we’re going to look for something small around here. Closer to work and all of you is the right move for me now.” Colby’s voice wavered only slightly, and he knew she’d given a brief thought to Mark.

  Hunter still hadn’t quite processed what he’d only recently learned about the full truth of her first marriage—of the manic-depressive swings Colby had lived through with Mark before he violently ended his life in front of her.

  “I’m thrilled that you’ll be closer. Makes spontaneous outings much easier.” Sara clapped.

  “Absolutely. And I’ll also be a very involved aunt.” Colby’s smile filled Hunter with deep gratitude that his sister and wife were also dear friends.

  He knew Colby meant well with that comment, but Sara tensed beside him, almost as if the mention of that happy future would somehow make it disappear. He leaned to his left and kissed his wife’s temple, whispering, “It’s all good, babe.”

  Naturally Jenna had to probe. “When’s the big test date?”

  Sara cleared her throat. “Thursday.”

  Hunter studied Jenna. Did she care about the pregnancy, or was she fishing to learn which day Hunter would be out of the office so she could try to dig into what he and Bethany were up to? Sara would call him paranoid. Yet with Jenna, it was always best to be on guard.

  “Do you feel any different?” Jenna continued, her gaze fixed on Sara. “I swear, I knew exactly when I got pregnant with Gentry. My breasts were so sore, and my sleep cycles were off. I told Jed, but he only laughed.”

  “She likes to tell this story because I have to admit she was right.” Their dad chuckled. He had a kind face, which turned even warmer when he laughed. Hunter hated to think of a future in which he and his father didn’t work together each day, let alone one where he harbored this kind of anger and resentment toward the man.

  Meanwhile, Gentry’s expression turned odd—almost stricken. Maybe she didn’t like thinking about her parents having sex. Who did? Not him, that’s for sure.

  “I’m sure everyone’s different,” Colby jumped in, seeming to pick up on a subtle downshift in Sara’s mood. “My friend Kathleen had no idea she was pregnant for weeks. She just figured work stress made her late.”

  Jenna’s gaze then turned toward Hunter. She sipped her wine before saying, “Speaking of work stress, I hope you’re not going to increase your father’s by playing games with the due diligence requests.”

  “Jenna.” His father shook his head. “Not tonight.”

  “Why not?” Jenna set her glass down and crossed her arms. “Everyone here is affected by the outcome of this situation. We deserve to know that
no one else is trying to sabotage the opportunity to walk away with millions, especially considering that we”—she then gestured between herself and her husband—“worked for decades to build the company.”

  Hunter might regret ruining Gentry’s party, but he couldn’t let Jenna’s remark go unchecked.

  “As someone who’s also worked at CTC for two decades, I know we already all have a lot of money. There’s no reason to hand over the upside of all our work to someone else.” He leaned forward, determined to persuade the others. “The fact they want it proves they see untapped value. We should keep that for ourselves.”

  Hunter then stuffed a large bite of enchilada in his mouth to keep himself from saying more.

  “Colby, just think what you could do with the foundation if you had a multimillion-dollar payday this year.” Jenna’s seductive taunt caused his sister’s eyes to temporarily glaze over.

  He cleared his throat, feeling a flush rise up his neck. Surely Colby wouldn’t turn her back on her promise to stand with him against a sale.

  “While that’s tempting, I have faith in Hunter and his vision for the future of the business and our family. CTC’s a legacy that can be passed down to our children.” Colby looked across the table at Hunter, wearing a confident grin. “I don’t need a windfall. Alec and I are doing fine on our own.”

  “Thank you,” Hunter replied.

  “What about you, Gentry?” Jenna asked.

  Gentry darted a quick glance at Colby and avoided Hunter’s gaze. “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?” Jenna scoffed. “Of everyone at this table, you should be the one most eager for that payday, considering the fact that you don’t have a career.”

  Hunter covered a smug grin. Jenna might sink her own boat if she continued to insult her daughter. Like Alec’s father, the woman seemed to think that bullying one’s child might somehow motivate her to change. To date, he’d never seen that approach work well.

  “Hunter said he’d help me start my own consulting business.” Gentry chugged her beer while everyone else at the table stared at him with surprise.

  Jenna chuckled. “What kind of business could you start?”

  “Social media promotion,” Hunter interjected. “She’s doing a great job for Colby. Maybe she can market this skill to other small businesses who don’t have the time or interest in properly running those platforms.”

  Gentry shot her mom a smug look, prompting Jenna to glare at Hunter before looking at her daughter. “You won’t need Hunter’s help if you have seed money from the sale.”

  “How typical of you to overlook the importance of budgets, strategic planning, smart growth, and everything else except branding,” Hunter snapped and then glanced at Gentry. “Gentry, if you start a business without a good plan, you’ll end up losing your investment. I’d also help you revise that plan as the landscape changes so you don’t waste a lot of time and resources.”

  “None of which will be necessary if she can live off the proceeds from the sale.” Jenna set her chin on top of her steepled hands.

  “Some of us work for reasons that have little to do with money and everything to do with purpose,” he replied.

  “Enough,” their dad said, looking at Gentry. “As I told your brother, nothing is decided. We’re only exploring our options. If—if—the final offer’s something I feel is a good deal, I’ll bring it to you all for a vote. Until then, this isn’t to be discussed outside of these four walls. I don’t need our employees to panic and jump ship, or for the local paper to get wind of this possibility.”

  Hunter felt Sara’s stare, as if she was wondering how far he’d go to sabotage the sale. He wasn’t stupid. He didn’t want to destroy the company—just Jenna. He wouldn’t need to sabotage it, anyway. He’d simply use all the improvements and expansions his dad and Jenna had never let him implement against them now. There were dozens of legitimate investments he could argue were needed to update CTC’s infrastructure, which would make for a hefty capex line item on the books. Once Pure Foods got the full picture, they might reevaluate the deal or decrease the purchase price.

  “Why is everyone looking at me?” Hunter eyed the group and let his gaze linger on his dad.

  “Because everyone knows that you have the power and motivation to mess this up.” His dad stared back. “I hope I can count on you to do as I’ve asked.”

  His father’s distrust dealt another blow. “Ironic, considering I can’t count on you to do what you promised.”

  “I thought we were celebrating my birthday?” Gentry interrupted.

  “Of course we are.” His father squeezed her hand and smiled, but tension kept its grip on the room.

  Hunter could not sit through another forty-five minutes of Jenna’s baiting comments and his dad’s refusal to acknowledge Hunter’s position. Without thinking, he stood, sending his chair screeching back. “Sorry, Gentry, but I’m suddenly feeling a little ill. I’ll make it up to you. Happy birthday.” He looked at his wife. “Babe, let’s go.”

  He sensed her disappointment, but she made apologetic goodbyes to his family. “Sorry, everyone. Gentry, I hope you like our gift. Call me tomorrow.”

  “Hunter,” his dad said, “your attitude isn’t helpful or persuasive.”

  “I’d say the same to you, but why bother? It’s pretty clear that Jenna’s opinion is the only one that means anything to you.” He kept bitterness from his voice despite his insides churning acid.

  Once in the car, Sara huffed. “I can’t believe you ruined your sister’s birthday dinner. Honestly, Hunter, in the bigger scheme of things, doesn’t family matter more than CTC? You’re so fixated.”

  “I’m fighting for what’s mine, and I’ll be damned if I let Jenna win.” He stared at her for a second. “Mark my words. CTC will remain in the Cabot family. I’m not giving up my dreams for the company and my kids.”

  “What if our kids want to be doctors or artists instead of working by your side?” Sara frowned and stared out the window.

  He’d always envisioned the next generation of Cabots creating new products and new jobs. Celebrating their accomplishments. What could be better? And unlike his own dad, he wouldn’t break the promises he made to his kids.

  “I’m not a dictator. I wouldn’t force them to do something they hated.” When he realized Sara was actually talking about the future and kids, he frowned. She hadn’t been willing to do that with him before because of superstitions. “By the way, why am I barred from voicing any kind of daydreams about our future kids, but it’s okay for you to project about them when you want to attack me?”

  “I’m not attacking you. I just disagree with you.”

  “Disagree? You think we should sell the business?” He stared at the road, pulse pounding.

  “I think you should be willing to consider a good offer, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” If the sunroof had been open, his head might’ve shot right through it and up to the moon. “My father has betrayed me.”

  “Your dad has a right to change his mind without it being labeled a betrayal. Don’t take this so personally, Hunter. It’s unlike you to be this dramatic.”

  Dramatic? Since when does stating the truth translate to drama?

  Maybe his dad’s about-face shouldn’t be a shock, given the way the man broke his vows to his first wife. Hunter had always admired his dad’s intelligence and work ethic while privately demeaning his mom’s flighty lifestyle. In truth, he’d never taken a hard look at his parents’ integrity. In retrospect, his mother—not his father—had been the more loyal, committed partner and parent.

  Sara broke the silence consuming the car. “If you want to spend all your energy fighting the sale, I can’t stop you. But do not cause a rift in the family, Hunter. It’s small enough as it is, and with mine so far away and you always at work, yours is all I’ve got most days.”

  His thoughts turned gloomier. “Let’s drop it. There won’t be a rift because I’m going to fi
nd a solution that benefits everyone.”

  Chapter Seven

  “My team’s getting pressure to provide reports faster.” Bethany closed her laptop and pressed her lips together. Her expression exhibited the kind of shared focus and concern Hunter wished his wife would give him. “Jenna’s been unusually critical of the details of the marketing department budgets and projections, too.”

  “Of course she has,” Hunter grunted, ignoring the call on his direct line. “Every year she makes our job ten times harder by being uncooperative during strategic planning. Now suddenly she’s going to pressure us to set sky-high projections to make the company look like it’s poised for rapid growth. She’ll be getting this in response,” he said, flashing his middle finger.

  When Bethany’s eyes widened, he regretted making her uncomfortable. Like the professional he counted on, she brushed it off. “She won’t make it easy. And I suspect even your dad will gripe about the capex estimate you’re floating.”

  “You and I both know that the Idaho plant has been held together by rubber bands and bubble gum these past two years. It’s past time we invested serious capital there to bring it up to code. Don’t let Jenna bully you.” When Bethany’s obvious discomfort didn’t subside, Hunter added, “I’ll handle her and my dad.”

  Alec’s warning from the other night drifted through his thoughts. He didn’t enjoy opposing his dad, but it couldn’t be helped. For the first time since the early months following his parents’ divorce, he felt cast aside—adrift. Like then, he buried his unease beneath determination and a good plan. It had worked for him in the past, but now he and his dad no longer shared the same goal.

  “What else can we do to stop the sale?” Bethany was smart enough to know it would take more than aggressive accounting to put Pure Foods off if it truly wanted CTC.

  Every time he thought about how he’d handle losing, his body flushed with heat. He glanced around his large office. The saltwater tank bubbling in the corner, which housed a handful of colorful fish, had a soothing effect on him, reminding him of one of his and Sara’s first-ever vacations, when they’d gone to the Cayman Islands. His diploma and CPA certification hung on one wall, and the fine art Sara had bought him for their fifth anniversary—an abstract in the tradition of Jackson Pollack—hung over the small conference table in the corner. Handsome navy leather chairs, worn from use, flanked his desk.