by T. K. Rapp
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her as I held her to my chest. Her arms released their hold of me and fell to her sides as mine wrapped protectively around her. I didn’t know her, but I felt the need to try to alleviate the pain radiating from her. Her sobs began to consume her, and her body shook in my arms. I felt her fingers clutching to the back of my shirt as if she needed me to hold her up. “It’ll get better,” I told her, running my hand over her back.
She pushed away suddenly and swiped at her eyes but refused to make eye contact. “Doubt never wins,” she muttered before pushing away from me and leaving me standing in the street watching her disappear.
At the time, I thought it was a poignant statement by someone so young, but considering it was a title my idiot brother saddled her with, I suppose it was something more sinister than anything.
She was cute for a little girl, but I was three years older than my brother. I mean, I felt bad for her, of course, but it wasn’t as if I was checking the kid out. I was doing what anyone else would have done in my situation. When she walked away that day, I didn’t think twice about her, and I haven’t thought about her since.
Yet, in the last six months, the memory has returned and is tied to the woman I have encountered twice in the last two days. I might not have noticed her then, but here I am fourteen years later, absolutely checking her out.
She is definitely an attractive woman and her lips…
I won’t allow myself to continue this line of thought; I don’t have time to think about her anymore because I have a huge meeting tomorrow morning, and I need to be prepared. The Cave file is still lying on the bed where I set it down, so I riffle through everything and study it as much as possible before turning in. I need all the rest I can get tonight.
* * *
I’ll be the first to admit, based on the name, Cave’s Camo and Outdoor, I made certain assumptions about what their corporate offices would be like. Mostly, I figured there would be animal heads mounted on the walls, guns on almost every surface, and employees dressed in ghillie suits. Instead, it’s a modest office space, situated in an old part of town in a renovated fifties house. From the brick exterior, there’s not much to look at, but inside is like a man cave.
The walls are lined with aged wood that makes it feel more like a cabin than an office. I find it interesting there isn’t a front desk, but the waiting area is decorated with overstuffed brown leather couches. The place smells of pine, leather, and the outdoors. There are a few frames on the walls; some look to be family portraits, while others are of wild animals in the woods. There’s an old black and white portrait that catches my eye, but before I can get a good view of it, an older man greets me from the office door to my left. He reminds me of my grandfather, but perhaps a bit younger.
“Mr. Miller,” he announces with a boisterous presence. I feel the need to turn around, in case there’s another Mr. Miller standing behind me. He acts as if we are old friends. “Come in, come in. Have a seat. I’m so glad you found the office.”
I walk the short distance to the chair he shows me, still stunned by his animated personality, but I’ve heard things about him, so I do my best to appear neutral. I extend my hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Sir?” he repeats and shakes his head with a stern expression. “That’s my dad - well, it would be if he wasn’t dead - I feel like a young buck in my prime. Just call me Cal.”
“Cal?”
“Short for Aaron.”
I tilt my head and wonder if he heard himself. “It’s true. Aaron Callen Cavette. But I never liked the name Aaron, so Cal it is. Can I get you something to drink before we get started?”
My head is spinning in confusion from his strange name explanation, but I’m feeling pretty good. Unless I’m reading him wrong, Cavette is ready to sign, and this presentation is merely a formality. I predict by the end of this meeting, I’ll be changing my flight to head back to Denver tonight with contracts in hand.
“No, sir,” I say, but he eyes me questioningly. “I mean, Cal. I’m fine.”
“Well, let’s have a gander at that proposal you’ve been going on about.” He walks to his desk and takes a seat while I prepare the presentation. “If you don’t mind, I’ve asked my grandson, Grayson, to sit in. He’s running a bit late, but we can start without him, and you can fill him in later.”
I begin the presentation by telling him about the company, as well as a list of some of our more well-known clients. The entire time I’m rattling off the information, he’s nodding, but I can tell he isn’t listening. I decide to skip the rest of my spiel when I find a good moment to change to the next part.
“Even though T.M. is a relatively new marketing and public relations firm, we have been trusted to handle hospitals, law firms, and we are starting to attract up and coming entertainers. But what can we do for Cave Camo and Outdoor? The way I see it, your online visibly is not where it should be - not for how large your business is. What I’d like to do is -”
I’m unable to finish the sentence because the office door flies open and a man walks in, who I immediately assume to be the grandson. I figure he’s close to my age, and he resembles his grandfather, although he is slightly shorter.
“Sorry, Pops,” he says, brushing past me in a hurry. He takes a seat and begins to excuse his tardiness. “I got off the phone with Rock Solid, and we are set for this afternoon.”
I instantly recognize the name of my former employer and realize this meeting isn’t as cut and dry as I assumed. My jaw clenches as my body fills with tension. He’s still yet to acknowledge me, so I introduce myself. “You must be Grayson,” I offer for him. “I’m Trey Miller. It’s nice to meet you.”
He sits upright in his chair to accept my handshake. “Sorry ‘bout that, man. Nice to meet you.”
“I was telling your grandfather about T.M. Enterprises and what I have planned for Cavette.”
Cal stands up abruptly, “Lemme be honest with you, Trey. I met with a rep from Rock Solid yesterday, and I really liked what they had to say. They’re a large company with over twenty years in the business and that says something. Ya know?”
“I understand. But, like you pointed out, they’re large. I know their business model and quite frankly, I’d hate to see you get lost in the shuffle. They have several Fortune 500 companies they deal with every day, and it’s the smaller companies who suffer. That’s the reason I started T.M. in the first place. I could go on and on about where they lack, but I’d rather tell you what I can do for you.”
Cal waves his hand to stop me from continuing my explanation. “I like the initial information you sent over. You’re hungry, and I like that. But I can’t rule out the big fish either. How long are you here for, son?”
“As long as it takes,” I admit. I need this win, and if I have to stay here a week to convince him, I’ll do it.
“I like that attitude. I’m going camping, leaving tonight. The rep from Rock Solid will be there, and I’d like you to come along. We’ll be back on Sunday, but whoever I pick to represent my company has to know my business. And what better way to figure it out than with a camping trip.”
This isn’t happening. This whole thing has gone from a sure thing to a three-ring circus in a matter of minutes. He’s waiting for an answer, but the only thing that comes out is a question. “Sir?”
“You don’t have a problem with that, do ya?”
Is this guy out of his mind? There was no mention of going anywhere besides this office, but clearly it doesn’t matter to him. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, and if I want this, I have to play ball.
“No. Not at all,” I hesitate, still stunned by the change in venue. “It’s just, I don’t have any gear with me. Wasn’t exactly planning an outdoor excursion.”
“Good thing I own a camping store then, huh?” He laughs at his own attempt to be funny, and I fight the scoff that wants to break free. I need this win, but hell if I don’t have other clients who
also need my attention. This was supposed to be a slam-dunk and yet here I am being put on the spot and there’s only one right answer.
“I suppose so,” I manage to say through a gritted smile.
“I’ll have the essentials, and Grayson here will set it up so you can go to the store and select anything else you might need for the three nights.”
Are you kidding me? Did I walk in to an audition for the follow-up of Deliverance or something?
I scan the pictures that line his wall before glancing at the man in front of me. “Where do you camp out here?”
“Not here. Texas. Grayson got his pilot’s license a few months back, and he’s been itchin’ to get me up in the sky with him. I rented a private jet so he can co-pilot and get a little more experience. Figure now’s as good a time as any.”
Not only am I going on a spur of the moment camping trip, but I’m also a fucking Guinea pig for his grandson who’s still a newbie pilot? In fucking Texas?
I swallow hard and ask for clarification. “Texas?”
“Big Bend.”
This has to be the most absurd request - no, demand - I have ever encountered, and this isn’t even a client.
What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 7
Big Bend.
Texas.
Humidity and hell are the first things that come to mind. I’m all for a camping trip, but a last-minute one in Texas sounds like a recipe for disaster. Camping with a man who seems to be slightly out of his mind is something else altogether. When I get home, I might need to consider getting my head checked for agreeing to this fiasco.
Sitting in the rental car, the words replay in my head over again. Cavette is bringing me, and the competition, camping so we can actually have it out in front of him to see who will win the contract. I feel like I’m about to be on a bad reality show where we have to jump through hoops and hope not to come off as dumbasses along the way.
Mom and Dad used to take Jett, Abby, and me camping when we were kids, but I haven’t gone since high school. I think I can probably still set up a tent easily enough, and I know I can still fish. At least that’s one thing I manage to do somewhat often enough between work and sleep. But I have no idea what else he might have in mind.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to get enough information about Big Bend to appear knowledgeable before we get there this evening. Cavette plans to take off at five sharp, and I’ve still got to get to the hotel so I can load up.
Jett is supposed to be taking care of things at the office, but right now, I need him to focus on my latest instructions. I call the office and Hattie answers, but I don’t give her a chance to finish the greeting.
“It’s Trey. I need to talk to Jett.”
“He, um, hold -” she stammers before clearing her throat. “He should be back any minute. Is everything okay? You don’t sound too good. Did the meeting go okay?”
“It went,” I snap quickly as I make my way to the hotel.
“That good, huh?”
“Yeah, something like that,” I answer distracted by the whirlwind that has been my morning. “Look, have him call me -”
“Wait, here he is,” she says quickly before I hear her muffled voice say something to someone else. “Trey, hold one sec. ‘Kay?”
I don’t bother to respond, what does it matter anyway?
“How’d it go? I guess he didn’t sign?”
“Not yet. I’m going to be here longer than I thought. Cavette wants me and the other guy to go camping this weekend to basically compete. He wants to see which of us knows his business better. Get this, my competition is Rock Solid.”
“Your nemesis,” he says, dragging out the “s” like a snake. “So where are you going anyway?”
“Texas.”
“What? In August? Good luck with that. Your balls are gonna melt out there.”
“I’m heading to the store to grab a few things. I need you to have Hattie do some research and send me a list of things I might need and tell me as much as possible about Big Bend.”
“We’ve been there before, remember?”
“If I remembered, would I be asking for information about it? I was maybe, what, ten when we went? Can you get me the damn information?”
“When do you leave?”
“I should be at the hotel in a few minutes, and then I’ve got to get to the store. It’s -” I check my watch, “ten o’clock. Try to get me the list in the next thirty, the rest, I need before noon.”
Phone etiquette has always been lost on Jett, and he hangs up before I say anything else. I’m sure he’s worried that I might add to the list.
This is a work trip, so most everything I have with me is for meetings. Luckily, I thought ahead and packed my jeans, so I’d have one comfortable set of clothes with me. They’re faded and worn out, and when I wear them with a t-shirt, I don’t look like an entrepreneur at all. I shrug at the thought and unpack my relaxed clothing so I can change before heading to Cavette’s store. I make quick time to gather my suits and toiletries, tossing them into my suitcase. I don’t bother to attempt folding since it’s obvious these are not the type of clothes I’m going to need.
Checking around the room to make sure I have left nothing behind, I tug the door shut behind me and head for the elevator. When the doors open, I step in and make a mental note of things I need to do before we fly out this afternoon. My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I dig it out, hoping it’s what I asked for.
Hattie: Got a list for you:
- Clothes (ha)
- Portable charger
- Flashlight
- Sleeping bag
- Towel (please shower)
- Shower things
- Bug spray
- Swimsuit?
- Baby wipes
The list seems simple enough, and I feel relieved when the doors open and I make my exit to check out. The front desk has a few people waiting to check in or out, I don’t know and don’t care, but I spot Pamela, the cute hostess from last night. She waves me over, and I look around to the others who are waiting, but when no one moves to her area, I move in her direction.
“I thought you were here for the weekend,” she all but purrs at me.
I give her a smile. “I thought so, too. But work has other plans.”
She takes my keycards and hands me the itemized receipt. I start to tuck the slip of paper into my bag as she finishes talking. “We hope you enjoyed your stay. If you’re in the area again, please come back.” My eyes meet hers, and she has a wide smile in place before she gives me a wink.
“Will do, Pamela. Actually, can I ask you to do me a favor?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Would you mind sending my luggage to this address? I won’t need it where I’m headed.” I write the address to my office and hand her the slip of paper. “If you could charge it to the card on file, I would appreciate it.”
“I’ll take care of it, personally.” She smiles and takes the small carry-on from me.
As I walk through the lobby doors, I can feel her eyes on me so I turn back to confirm. Damn. One more night would have been nice. I wave, exiting through the sliding doors and wait for the valet to retrieve my rental car.
* * *
Cave Camo and Outdoor is known for their over-the-top displays and employees donning fishing, camping, and hunting clothes. It’s a little strange to walk in and have a man approach you in full hunting gear to see if you need any help. Before I have a chance to respond Cal’s grandson, Grayson, appears.
“Trey, great. You’re right on time.” He pats the employee on the shoulder, dismissing him and shakes his head with a laugh. “Don’t think I’ll ever understand what Pops is trying to accomplish with that getup.”
“It’s different, I’ll give him that.” He leads me toward some racks containing anything you could ever want for camping.
“Grab whatever you need. Dressing rooms are back in the corner. When you’re done, have someone
find me.”
He walks away, leaving me in the middle of too many clothing racks. I hate shopping. The idea of it makes my feet hurt. I know my size, I know what I like, and there will be no need for fitting rooms. I grab several shirts and a few pair of cargo shorts before spotting a rack off to the side with baseball caps. There are several to choose from, but it’s a no-brainer for me; I grab one with the Cave logo and toss it into the basket.
I continue looking around and spot a woman across the way that resembles Faith, but from this distance, I’m sure anyone could look like her. She’s dressed comfortably in a tank top and shorts that show off her tanned legs, but it’s all I see before she rounds an aisle. Something propels me to get closer, to see if it’s really her, but I’m barely able to take two steps before a female employee approaches me and gives me a once over.
I don’t feel out of place in my jeans and t-shirt, but she seems to think so. “Can I help you find what you need?”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Mr. Cavette sent me over to check on you. So if you need anything, let me know.”
“I think I’m set.”
She looks at my feet and cocks her head to the side. “You realize you’re going camping, right? Those aren’t exactly the kind of shoes to walk around in.”
She’s right. Flip-flops aren’t the right footwear at all. Had they not fit in my suitcase, I’d be left with only my dress shoes. “Lead the way,” I laugh, stepping aside to follow her.
“Have you ever been camping before?” Her tone has a ring of annoyance to it, but I don’t let it bother me.
“Yes. Many times.”
She walks to the shoe department and points to the men’s sections, leaving me alone. That chick has a bad attitude for some reason, but it’s her problem, not mine.
I’m not too picky when it comes to footwear. I find a pair of waterproof hiking boots in my size since I have no idea what the old man has planned out there. I think my bases are covered in these and a set of socks.