Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hayes, Lane

  “Do you like to sail?” I asked, adjusting my sunglasses from the glare of the sunlight on the water.

  “Sure, but I haven’t been in years. Sailing was Mike and Geordie’s thing. I’d go out with them occasionally in the summer, but it’s fucking freezing out there now. I’d need a major incentive to get on a sailboat when it’s fifty degrees and the wind is blowing on the Bay.”

  “True. My friend Zane is a professional sailor. He does regattas with major sponsorship and runs a business teaching lessons and selling boats too. One of us always gets roped into helping him transfer a ketch or picking him up after he makes a delivery. I want to say it’s a pain, but he’s so enthusiastic about it that it’s hard not to get sucked in.”

  “ ‘One of us?’ ” Wes gave me a sardonic grin as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and let it rest on the back of the bench.

  “My college friends.” I launched into a brief description of each of them and threw in a colorful story involving a beer bong using Zane’s first attempt at homemade ale. “It was the worst thing I’d ever tasted in my life. Everyone at that party was gagging. It was horrible.”

  Wes laughed. “What about you? What’s the craziest thing you did in college?”

  “I told you I was a geek. The craziest thing I did was stay up all night studying and working on my experiments. It was kind of funny because I looked one way and acted another. People thought I was a jock ’cause I watched football and hung out at the sports bar with my friends. I didn’t see the point in explaining that I was fascinated by the strategy behind the game but couldn’t actually catch a ball to save my life. They made assumptions based on looks, and let’s face it, that’s the fastest road to disappointment.”

  “True…”

  “I was always the nerd at the cool kid parties in college. My friends could count on me to do something lame…like recite the periodic table to impress a pretty girl or bring brie cheese to a kegger or—”

  “Huh?” Wes shifted on the bench to face me.

  I snickered at the memory. “True story. I was in the university library working on a project with a French kid when Eric found me and told me to be ready at eight for a party off-campus. He said it was a kegger but that we should bring beer just in case. The only reason I remember any of that was because I showed up late to the party with brie and no beer. I handed my carefully wrapped brie from the local artisan café to the girl who answered the door. She had the gall to look at me like I’d given her a steaming piece of shit instead of quality cheese.”

  Wes threw his head back and guffawed merrily. “Brie?”

  “Yeah. Eric arrived before I did. He stuck his head around the corner in time to catch the gist of my faux pas and save the day just as a couple of jocks asked who the fuck brought cheese to a kegger.” I snorted.

  “What did Eric do?”

  “He swooped in and acted like he’d been waiting for the damn cheese all night. When we were alone, he finally asked, ‘Why brie?’ and I couldn’t explain. It was cognitive association gone wrong. It wasn’t a mistake; it was a miscue. The kind everyone gets but is usually able to curb before it leads them astray. It’s not weird to think brie and beer sound alike. But it’s hella strange not to stop and think what fits the scenario better. We laugh about it now, but that episode made me realize a few things. Real friends are golden. They’ll take a bullet for you when you’re in trouble, and they accept you as you are. For someone like me, that’s like winning the lottery.”

  “You’re lucky then. I am too. If I hadn’t met Mike, I don’t know where I’d be now.”

  “I’m kind of surprised you were never lovers,” I said as I sipped my lukewarm coffee.

  “We were.”

  “You were?” My forehead creased in surprise.

  “It happened later. We didn’t last. Geordie was Mike’s true love. I needed his friendship more anyway. Mike had a superhero complex. He always wanted to help the underdog. When I first came to San Francisco, I was the ultimate underdog. I talked big, but the black dye was fading from my hair and with it my armor. The shelter was a place to lay my head and get a free meal, but it wasn’t a home. Not the way some of them are now. And later when I was consumed with growing Westell, he reminded me to stop and look at the big picture. Deals come and go. You get them, you celebrate, and then you’re instantly deflated. The anticlimactic nature of the beast…the thrill of the chase, the win and then the start from zero…wore me down.”

  “Is that why you gave up the fast lane for a winery?”

  “No, I didn’t want to give it up, actually.”

  I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I gave him a sideways glance. “If you’re considering a return, we’d hire you at EN Tech in a flash.”

  Wes threw his head back and laughed. “Thanks, but no…I like where I am. Let’s put it this way. I got into a four-way pileup in the fast lane and was forced to the sidelines for a while. I could have gone back in, but the small break from constant pressure, deadlines, and sell, sell, sell made me realize I wasn’t really living. I never appreciated what I had because I was always thinking about what came next.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m forced to appreciate the process because Mother Nature is in charge. I have to pay attention to the weather, the soil, the vines. I have to be engaged with my surroundings. Connected in a way I never was at Westell. This isn’t where I’d thought I’d be ten years ago, but I can’t complain. I’m sitting in the sunshine with a sexy guy and a cold cup of coffee. The day is so bright, it makes the bridge look more red, the sky more blue, and the hills more green. I notice things I never noticed before…like your eyes.”

  “My eyes?”

  “They change color depending on what you wear. They’re gray today, like the sweater you have on under your coat. They look like the ocean after a storm. Intense and a little turbulent. But always beautiful.”

  I gulped. “Are you a poet too?”

  Wes grinned and leaned in to press his cold nose against my cheek then chuckled when I batted him away. “No, but if I was, I’d be working out what rhymes with dick ’cause it’s freezing out here and I don’t want more coffee, I want your—”

  “Prick?” I suggested as I stood and tugged his hand.

  “That works. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Monday mornings never seemed like that big of a deal to me. I never understood the weary-eyed look of resignation some people had about the impending work week, which probably had something to do with the fact that I happily spent a good portion of my weekend in the lab. At least I did until recently. Now I was like everyone else standing in line at the coffee shop, tiredly hoping a caffeine infusion would jumpstart my day and keep my focus on work instead of the man I’d left in my bed that morning. I hadn’t been in the lab since Friday, and though I was ready to get to work, I wasn’t overly anxious. I’d get there. Coffee first.

  I thanked the barista when she handed my to-go cup to me with an enthusiastic toothy grin then set it on a nearby high-top table when my phone buzzed in my pocket a moment later. It was a message from one of my engineers. Nothing important, but I typed a quick response anyway. Then I picked up my drink and froze. What the hell were Norm Wilson and Finn Gallagher doing here? This was my building. Wasn’t it?

  I glanced out the wide window at the giant hedge bush hiding the parking lot from view and caught the reflection of EN Tech’s familiar logo etched in the glass. Yep. I was where I was supposed to be. They were not. I observed the two men as I tried to rationalize their presence. Norm was maybe six feet tall with silver hair, brown eyes, and sharp features. His nose was a little too pointed and his bearded chin was a little too square, but he was kinda hot for a guy who had to be fifty-five or older. And Finn looked gorgeous as usual in his impeccably cut navy suit and that mischievous grin I found very appealing but definitely not trustworthy. This couldn’t be good.

  I pulled my phone out again and stabbed Eric’s number hard eno
ugh to slosh coffee onto the white plastic lid.

  “What’s up?” he answered.

  “I’m downstairs at the coffee shop.”

  “I don’t need anything. Thanks for—”

  “I’m not taking your order, moron. I’m wondering what the hell Norm and Finn are doing here,” I hissed, casting a furtive glance toward the two men pointing at pastries behind the glass case.

  “We have a meeting in fifteen minutes. They’re early. Must be why they’re getting coff—”

  “Why are you meeting them, and why didn’t I know about this?”

  “I texted you last night. Look, I figured this out. Finn is badgering us about pricing while he’s bragging about his contact at Byzantine. He doesn’t really care about making a deal with us on old equipment and services. He wants in on a big contract. I figured he’s pulling the same shit with Norm and I had a wild idea at four in the morning that we can all win a portion of the Byzantine contract if we pool our resources.”

  “Who are you? Mr. Rogers? You’re a businessman, Eric. You know those two are cutthroat bastards. Why are you even pretending we can all bring our shovels to the beach and build a pretty sand castle together? That’s insane!”

  “If you are anywhere near them right now, I’m going to castrate you,” Eric snapped angrily.

  “I’m not,” I replied before turning to clandestinely see if I was telling the truth. They were waiting for their beverages at the opposite end of the counter. Finn looked up just then and waved. Fucker.

  “Good. I’m erasing the element of subterfuge. Cards on the table. We all want the same thing. Why not create a mini-conglomerate and see if we can give Byzantine everything they want in one shot? If it works, we close the business sooner and go through fewer hoops. Plus, it buys us a couple of more months and relieves you of the stress of finding whatever is missing in your code. Let’s be real, Nick. The products and services we have are fantastic, but our best-selling point is what’s in your head right now. Until it’s tangible, we have to work with what we have licensed and ready to go. Understand?”

  “How much is this deal worth?”

  “Slightly shy of one billion dollars. Yes, that’s billion…with a capital B.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Exactly. It’s a strategic no-brainer. No matter how it goes down, we’d win the biggest slice of pie.”

  “Because of my unfinished, unpatented project,” I said unnecessarily. I set my cup down to free my hand and dragged it through my hair.

  “You’ll finish it, and it’ll be everything you said it would be and more. I believe in you, Nick. I need you to trust me. I need you to believe in me too. I have to go. Just…be nice.”

  I stared unseeing at a black-and-white artsy photo of coffee beans on the café wall.

  Focus. No pressure. Bring out the mental chalkboard and get to work. This was what I loved. Numbers were my thing. I didn’t get off on dollar signs followed by nine digits, though. Those scared me. Especially when I was the catalyst to winning the biggest contract EN Tech had ever landed. But I loved my work. Leaving Eric with the smarmy sales part of the business made accomplishing my goals possible.

  But something didn’t add up here. I didn’t trust either man separately and together, they were even more alarming. They were definitely up to no good. I pasted a smile on my face as they approached with outstretched hands and phony grins. I set aside my misgivings and shook hands politely.

  “Always a pleasure, Nick. It’s been a while. I don’t think I’ve seen you since your engagement party last year.” Norm’s handshake was hearty but his smile was cool and lent a calculating air to the social nicety.

  I shook Finn’s hand before replying. “You may be right.”

  “It was a lovely party. It’s a shame it didn’t work out with you and Lisa, but you’ll be happy to know she’s seeing someone new. Her father likes him, but then Don likes everyone…until they screw him over.”

  My comeback game failed me miserably. I quirked my lips in an evil-looking twist and firmly advised myself to be nice. Or at least try. “Lisa is a great girl. I wish her well. Don too. I’m off to the lab. Eric told me he’s looking forward to meeting with you. I’m sure he won’t mind if you show up a few minutes early. Have a good day.”

  Norm grabbed my elbow before I got anywhere. “Wait. I want to be clear about something. I respect Eric. He’s a fine businessman with an excellent reputation. You’re another story, Jorgensen. After the Carrigan debacle, I can safely say I wouldn’t trust you if you were the last man with a lifeboat on a sinking ship. I’m interested in hearing what Eric has to say but you should know, I’ll be watching you.”

  My desire to have the last word was strong. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood as I reminded myself there was no point in engaging. He got his dig in…so what? It didn’t matter what he thought of me. This was business. I doubted Eric’s “cards on the table” chat with these two sharks was going to produce a liaison of any kind anyway. Let it go. Let it go.

  I almost did. But when Norm paused in the coffee shop doorway and tossed a self-righteous smirk at me, I couldn’t rein myself in.

  “Hakuna Matata,” I yelled.

  Everyone in the immediate vicinity went quiet. So quiet I could hear the sound of hot liquid hitting the bottom of an empty cup behind the counter. Curious faces turned to stare at their weird boss. The wacky one who co-owned the company with the sane, normal guy. I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. Norm’s obvious discomfort and confusion made my ridiculous outburst worthwhile. I raised my coffee cup in a mock toast and smiled. Not the phony, polite smile reserved for strangers in elevators, but a sincere megawatt grin. By way of the last word, it was weak at best, but it served its purpose the same way it had when I was a kid. It shut the bully up.

  * * *

  My satisfaction didn’t last long. A week later, Eric announced he’d worked out the details to present a deal to Byzantine that would give EN Tech a significant cut of the business with the opportunity to increase the amount once my new product was ready for reveal. My panic must have been obvious.

  “Relax, Nick. This is designed to keep us in the lead and give us time to wow them when you’ve completed your project.”

  “Right.” I swiped my hand through my hair and gazed out the window behind him at the mountains in the distance. “I should go—”

  “Sit.” Eric pointed at the sitting area across the room in his office before pulling back the sleeve of his charcoal Armani suit coat to check his watch. “I’m going to have Miles bring us some coffee. Just sit and if possible, relax.”

  I trudged to the black leather sofa and dutifully perched myself on the edge. My invisible chalkboard followed me. I’d reworked a minor equation by the time Eric joined me. He sat on the Barcelona chair nearest me and nudged my knee. I stared at him through the maze of numbers, but I didn’t push them aside. I didn’t want coffee. I wanted to work.

  “Are you okay? I mean, you seem great in one way, but this project seems like it’s overwhelming you. Maybe we should back off the expected due date—”

  “When did you say it would be ready?”

  “I indicated it would be ready for beta use in early spring.”

  “March,” I said flatly.

  “Or April. Or…we push it back or take it out of the contract altogether.”

  “But then we don’t have anything Norm doesn’t. We have to beat him. We can’t let him come to the table with something even remotely innovative. He’s the master of short-term fixes. None of his products last a year before someone else has something better. I don’t understand why Byzantine considers his company a viable choice unless—Don Carrigan is backing him, isn’t he?”

  Eric nodded slowly. “Yeah. I had a feeling something was fishy. Norm agreed to this merger a little too quickly. He doesn’t have to do a thing. He’s got Don’s money working toward one of his famous mini-fixes. He wants to stay close to EN Tech so he can find the best time
to pull the rug out from under us. He’s a master at making a quarter-pounder sound like a Big Mac.”

  “We have the Big Mac, but it’s…not ready.”

  “Don’t worry. It will be. But I think we may have to partner with Norm and Finn on this one.”

  I jumped up from my chair and rounded on him. “I can’t believe I have to remind you they’re bad news, Eric. We can’t trust them. Especially if Norm is being backed by Lisa’s dad. The guy hates me!”

  “This is business. And Don may hate you, but he likes me.” He held up his hand to stop my tirade when I rolled my eyes and raked my hand through my hair in frustration. “Hear me out. We want the biggest cut and to get it we may need to—”

  “Make a deal with the devil? Sell our souls? What makes you think they won’t undercut us and make us look like last year’s model? I have the future model here”—I smacked my open palm against the side of my head like a madman—“we don’t need to get in bed with those assholes. We’ll have something better and more long-lasting.”

  “But we need it now! It’s all about timing. Byzantine wants to close by spring. If we don’t have something new, we should use what we have to get in on a high-profile deal.”

  “Is it worth it if EN Tech is listed third behind Don’s scumball buddy and a fucking reseller? And am I the only one who doesn’t find it incredibly suspicious that the once-ubiquitous Finn has gone quiet? He’s up to no good.”

  Eric stood and walked toward me. My crossed arms and hostile expression no doubt warned him not to come any closer. He leaned against his desk and cocked his head.

  “He hasn’t gone quiet. He’s here all the time. You haven’t noticed ’cause you’re in the lab.”

  “Why is he here?” I asked, unable to hide my confusion.

  “To work on details for a potential deal. You know the saying…keep your friends close and your enemies closer. If Finn is here, we know where he is and we’re in control.”