by Hayleigh Sol
Brad looked at me with eyebrows raised. I don’t think he’d been here for the meeting where Tiffany had initially made her suggestion and doubted he’d followed the news about the company.
“If you’ll remember, Tiffany, I explained last time that I wasn’t comfortable going with Sunner–G because their panels have caused three separate fires over the past two years. I suspect their prices are lower because their product is inferior.”
“Good suggestion, though, Tiff. Thanks for your input.” For the most part, Brad spoke to Tiffany the same as everyone else on staff.
Sometimes, though, he just seemed to find her stories a little too funny or, like a moment ago, her figure a little too noteworthy. I don’t know if I’d call what I felt observing them jealousy; it was more annoyance that his attraction to her allowed her to get away with certain questionable behavior when it came to our customers and a disrespectful attitude toward her boss—me.
Brad encouraged everyone to think about some new marketing ideas and avenues we might explore to bump up “the spend” of each account. With little to no response from Meg and Cory, my other two employees, they all shuffled out of the room and back to their regularly scheduled day. Brad and Tiffany exchanged a few words but I ignored their body language and turned to Evan.
“Ev, don’t worry about your bonus, okay? I’m gonna look at the numbers myself; we’re not taking away what you deserve for all your hard work.”
Hope trickled into his features. “Are you sure, Maya? Brad made it sound like a foregone conclusion. I don’t see how you can afford my bonus without Green for Green taking a serious hit.”
He was right, but payroll was always the first line item a good owner paid. Rent and utilities were next, supplies and materials for current projects—my overworked brain scrolled through data from the financial software I used to track our expenses. My own salary, and certainly marketing efforts to gain new business, would be impacted before I’d let Evan lose the bonus he’d earned.
After I assured him I was going to do my utmost to keep his commission intact—I never used the word promise as there was little in life any of us could guarantee with that degree of certainty—Evan went home to work for the rest of the day.
“Brad, may I talk to you for a sec?” Taking my interruption as her queue, Tiffany left the conference room and I closed the door behind her pert little ass.
“I know you’re unhappy with how things went down yesterday but Christ, Maya, you gotta support me in front of your staff. It doesn’t look good when management fails to present a united front.”
Taken aback by his tone, I told him I was sorry, then hated myself for doing so. Is that quickness to apologize encoded in a woman’s DNA or taught to us from a young age? Nature versus nurture, it was the age–old debate.
“You’re right that we should be on the same page whenever possible. But that goes both ways, Brad. You didn’t even give me a heads up about this meeting or talk to me about your plans. We can’t—I can’t—do what you’re suggesting to Evan. It’s not right.”
He sighed and leaned against the table, arms crossed over his chest. Under normal circumstances, I’d have admired the way his biceps were defined by the move. Not now. I was too worried about keeping and doing right by the best employee I’d ever had.
“Look, I know we haven’t come to a set agreement about my role here, which I think we need to do soon since the undefined nature of my position is confusing to all of us – the staff, you, me… What I’m getting at is, even though my role’s undefined at the moment, you’ve included me in much of the running of this company. I’ve spent a lot of nights and weekends helping out—and I’ve been glad to do it—but your team knows I’m involved. They already see me as a manager. So, when I organize a meeting and make tough calls that some people aren’t going to be happy about, I need you to back me up. Okay, My?”
He hadn’t called me that in more months than I could remember. It used to be a cute little pet name, “my My”, he’d whisper in my ear as we lay naked in bed, cuddling. Whether or not he’d intentionally deployed it now, hearing the endearment had the effect of softening me.
Brad had made some valid points. He really had given a significant amount of his time and expertise in running a company to help me with mine, the staff did go to him with questions when I was out of the office at a client meeting, and I really did need to make a decision about the future.
That last bit was tricky, though, for a number of reasons. Our relationship was ambiguous right now. Did I want to work with the man I still loved when I didn’t know if we’d ever find our way back to what we once had?
Aside from the question of our personal relationship, Brad had a strong personality. My greatest fear was that he’d steamroll my desires for the company I’d founded and I would end up agreeing to his decisions just to keep the peace. Even if we were able to co–manage as equals and adhere to the vision I had for Green for Green, I guess I still didn’t want to admit I needed that level of assistance.
“Maybe we should have a longer discussion about you officially becoming a manager. What that would look like.”
He smiled, uncrossing his arms and pulling me in for a hug. It’d been awhile since we’d touched and, though I suspected the gesture wasn’t meant as anything more than friendship, it felt nice. “I think that’d be good. Maybe dinner Thursday night? I should probably spend the next few days working on my own business.” He chuckled and released me.
“Yes, of course. Thanks for your help lately—always.”
I watched him pack up and go and I admit it still made me a little sad to see him walk away. Burying my nose in spreadsheets and details of the hospital project, I was soon distracted from thoughts of my personal life.
Self–doubt, my frequent companion these days, goaded that I might not have the ability to find a solution to our current financial woes, but I swore to myself—just as I’d sworn to Evan—that I’d do my best.
Chapter 5
Despite two lengthy sessions with my accounting software—the results of which I challenged and, sadly, verified with good ol’ Excel—I couldn’t find any way to save Evan’s bonus. Actually, if we brought in about thirty mid–sized new projects, the profit from those might do it. But, without spending anything on marketing, there was no conceivable way to garner that amount of new business in the next four to six months. The only other solution that kept presenting itself was to reduce my staff by one. And I knew Brad wasn’t going to like it.
After work on Thursday, I rode my bike to a nearby restaurant he favored. Waiting for his arrival, I pulled my laptop from the heavily padded, waterproof commuter backpack I’d purchased for bike–to–work days. The tendency for Brad and I to dine with laptops out was too commonplace for me to be bothered by, or even noticed, anymore.
My stomach had been in knots on and off the past two days—in all honesty, it was more like months—so I chose a harmless–sounding salad for dinner and crossed my fingers. Brad had an appetizer of fried calamari, followed by a burger and fries, causing me to marvel over his cast–iron digestive system. Not for the first time, I wondered if the inner walls of his arteries told the real story.
As predicted, Brad was shaking his head at my suggestion to reduce expenses. “I just don’t know why you’d want to let Tiffany go. You’ve already invested time in training her, customers like her, and she does good work for you.”
“She does okay work, Brad, usually the bare minimum. And she has a bad attitude more often than not. I’m always worried her eyerolling or sarcastic remarks are going to make an appearance with a client and we’ll lose their business. Or get a horrible review on Yap, which you know is almost impossible to dispute.”
It was true. The popular review website was currently hiding twenty–two of our five–star reviews, which woul
d probably miraculously become visible to customers if I spent money advertising with them. There were stories about class–action lawsuits against the company, but their shady policies had yet to improve. In a society where internet anonymity allowed people to post whatever they wanted, sometimes to be funny, sometimes mean, and sometimes to wriggle out of paying a bill—oh, yes, I’d been threatened with a negative review by a customer who didn’t want to pay his bill—every business owner’s nightmare was a bad review we couldn’t do anything about.
“I know Tiffany’s attitude isn’t always the best in meetings, but I’m sure she doesn’t act that way in front of customers. I truly believe she has a lot of potential—with the right hand to guide and incentivize her. You two have such different personalities. Or maybe you’re too similar. Either way, you’re like oil and water and it’s up to you to be the bigger person. I just think she deserves a chance to show what she’s capable of.” I was about to interject but he held up a hand. “Let’s table that discussion for now, okay?”
Sitting back in my seat from the forward–leaning position I’d been in, I nodded in reluctant agreement. I chewed the bite I’d taken thirty times, swallowed, and drank from my water glass to buy myself mental and emotional transition time. Supposedly, chewing that much helped with digestion, too, and I was willing to try anything.
“How’s TechCycle?” Brad’s company offered business owners recycling, repair, and refurbishing of computers, tablets, and other technology. Green for Green had referred some of our clients his way over the years and vice versa.
“Great, busy as usual. Training a new guy these next few weeks, hoping to get him ready for solo work before my vacation.”
That was a vacation we’d once talked about taking together. I’d actually been prepared to take ten days off work to hike through Panamanian rainforests with my boyfriend. Dr. Lac and Gram would’ve been so proud of me.
“When are you going? Still Panama?” It was tough imagining him there without me, doing all the things we’d planned to do as a couple.
For a moment, he looked uneasy. Maybe disappointed? Was he wishing we were still traveling together?
“Uh, no, I decided to just go relax on a beach and drink Mai Tais. I leave for Hawaii the second week of July.”
Hearing the change in his plans threw me for a loop. That didn’t sound like the Brad I knew, tanning and drinking all day. He was usually up for going and doing, like me. Not that he was as big a nature–lover as I was. Wistfully, I hoped he’d chosen something so different from what we’d intended because he was expecting we’d still take the Central American trip together someday.
“That’ll be nice. Time off, the ocean.” Lukewarm, inconsequential comments, the kind you made to an acquaintance, were all I could come up with for a man I’d loved for four years, the man I’d thought I would marry. This was what our conversations had devolved into these days. It was almost like those first getting–to–know–you dates, but more strained.
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. How about you? Have you been doing anything fun lately?”
My laugh was rueful. “Sure, in my surfeit of free time.” He knew better than anyone that such a thing didn’t exist in my world.
Jesus, was I becoming one of those people who did nothing but complain about how busy they were all the time? I hoped I wasn’t as obnoxious as I suddenly feared.
“On that note…I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about you taking on an official managerial role at Green for Green. If you’re still interested, of course.”
Over the years, I’d catalogued his smiles. All his expressions, really. This one was gentle and caring. “It’s good you’ve been considering it. I don’t like watching you struggle, being so stressed out all the time. If I can ease that burden some, I’m happy to help.” The smile slipped a bit. Now he was determined and earnest. “I just can’t keep giving away my time for free, especially since…well, we’re not together now. You can understand that, right?”
“Yes, of course, and I wouldn’t want you to.” Even when we’d been a couple, I’d felt guilty for not compensating him; he’d been the one to dismiss the notion whenever I’d voiced it. “But you know as well as I do that the budget won’t allow for another employee right now, let alone the higher salary of a manager.”
He took a sizeable bite from his burger, using a napkin to wipe the grease that ran down his chin, making the health–concerned girlfriend in me cringe. “I’ve figured out a solution that should benefit us both.” With an audible gulp, he swallowed at last.
That was one thing I hadn’t missed since we’d decided to take a break: watching him speak around the half–masticated animal in his maw.
God, when had I become so critical? It wasn’t like I never spoke with food tucked in my cheek. Didn’t we all?
I guessed the heart of my issue was that Brad had never been as considerate of my love of animals and aversion to consuming them as I'd have wished. He’d often been impatient when there was somewhere or something I couldn’t or wouldn’t eat. Other times, especially in front of his family, he’d made fun of my “granola ways”. I’d never preached veganism or guilt–tripped him about his food choices; the reverse respect didn’t seem too much to ask. Not that it mattered now, with our romantic relationship on hiatus.
“My proposal is that I loan Green for Green the capital it needs so desperately right now. You’d either repay me like you would any loan or…we’d work out some kind of equity arrangement.”
The loan portion was certainly tempting. I’d tried in the past to apply for a more traditional loan and been turned down every time. After the housing bubble burst and, with the subsequent recession in 2008, banks put their pretty greenbacks on lockdown. A business had to show five years of progressively increasing profits, or the owner had to have a significant amount of collateral for them to even consider a loan. If I had that kind of collateral, why the heck would I need a loan? And for a young business, growth was often unpredictable and erratic in those first years.
If Brad was offering Green for Green a cash injection, it might be exactly what we needed to cover costs, including Evan’s bonus, and boost our marketing efforts to bring in new clients. And revenue.
But money between friends, lovers, and family was always a bad idea. And I’d observed Brad with his own business over the years; he was smart and calculating—not necessarily manipulating others to do what he wanted, but…adept at massaging a situation to his benefit. I couldn’t help but wonder if his offer was as altruistic as it seemed.
“What do you mean by ‘equity arrangement’?”
“Well, the capital I’d be fronting you would entitle me to a percentage ownership of the company.”
Okay, that was something he’d mentioned a couple of times, though I’d assumed he would’ve changed his mind since our personal relationship had ended.
Or was on hold. Whatever.
“That would be temporary, though, right? Once the loan is repaid, you’d relinquish your percentage ownership?”
Shifting in his seat, he leaned an elbow casually on the table. “Not exactly. Remember, I’ll be investing my time, expertise, and resources. I’d expect to retain at least some ownership after you pay me back for the monetary investment.”
He smiled and shook his head slightly. “Before you ask, I don’t know right now what kind of percentage that would end up being. I’d want my accountant to take a deeper look at your books, we’d come up with terms for the loan, have our attorneys review the documents, and so on. This right here”—he gestured between us—“is just the friendly discussion stage.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense.” I was nodding but still didn’t have a clearer idea of what he wanted or how much I was willing to let him become involved in running my baby.
“Good. It’s good that we’re talking about this. Hey, you wanna head o
ver to the Spectrum with me? I have to return something but we could walk around some. It’s a nice night.” The Irvine Spectrum was an outdoor shopping mall not too far from Green for Green’s headquarters and where we were currently sitting. Also nearby were Huntington and Newport beaches, which would’ve been my preference for an evening stroll. Though, perhaps that was putting an inappropriately romantic vibe on the evening.
Everything was so confusing with us right now.
Besides, I was exhausted. As usual.
“I’ve got my bike, I should head home.”
“We can load it up in the back of my car and I can drop you off after.” His smile was sweet and accommodating, his invitation to walk and talk about nothing of consequence appealing. “Come on, when was the last time you just relaxed, took a night off?”
That only served to remind me of the work I’d had planned for tonight, which I’d now be late in starting since I’d met Brad for dinner. A yawn snuck up on me, my body apparently rejecting my brain’s silly notions of work.
“Ha, I guess that answers that. You should try to get some sleep, Maya; I’m betting the insomnia’s still a problem.” It wasn’t a question. He knew me well.
Brad walked me to my bike and hugged me before I put a leg over. “Hey, you know the biggest benefit of having me help run Green for Green is that it’ll create some free time for you. Maybe we can spend some of that together, have a little fun. You know, like we used to do all the time.”
Was he implying we’d have a chance to resurrect our relationship?
If I was less stressed and not working every spare moment of my waking hours, it was entirely possible I could focus on my personal life. Give it, and Brad, the attention they deserved. I wasn’t completely sure that was what I still wanted, though.
Seeing Gram on my caller id had started causing mild panic attacks a few years back. It was morbid but, in those first few seconds, I worried something serious had happened—a fall, a heart attack, a stroke—that would take her away from me. For so long I’d subconsciously seen her as the grandma of my youth, an energetic lady who’d live forever. Or at least as long as I needed her. I suppose facing my own mortality as I’d gotten older had forced me to face hers.