Page 188 of Never Let You Go

“Right.” We didn’t have time to iron out all the details, so glances and insinuations will have to do. Not having my phone isn’t helping the strategizing of all this. “Let’s get this over and done with,” I tell the lawyers.

“Before we go any further,” Robert interrupts me. “I’d like to present that the board’s offer still holds.”

He’s kidding, right?

I glance at the lawyers, and they look near panicked. This was not planned. At least there’s that. I’m not the only one thinking he’s lost it.

“It looks like Mr. Norwood is confused as to the purpose of this meeting,” I say. That sounded in control, right? I don’t want to be bitchy, but enough already.

The woman clears her throat and jumps in. “We’re here to formally confirm the transfer of shares of the late Ms. Douglas, representing the controlling majority of Red Barn Baking.” She looks at no one, only focusing on the paperwork the man next to her hands her, one document at a time. She does all sorts of lawyerly things to them, stamping, signing, all the while explaining what she’s doing and what each document represents. A recap of the conditions in the will. A formal acknowledgment of my successful completion of the apprenticeship. More stuff about the exam. A formal transfer of shares. A thorough scrutiny of all the above.

As she completes each pile, the man brings them to me to sign.

Robert is getting very pale.

We’re almost there.

“There, all done,” the woman says, visibly relieved. “Would you like to continue without us?” she asks.

They were not only Rita’s lawyers, they’re also Red Barn Baking counsels, so having them around for the next part might prove useful. I’m about to fire Robert. “Why don’t you stay.”

I’ve never fired anyone in my life. It’s the fucking scariest thing. I have to fire a guy who’s had so much power over me, and who used to scare me, you’d think I’d take some level of sadistic pleasure in it? I don’t.

He looks at me. Stands from his chair, grabs his expensive shit, and says, “If you think I’m gonna be working for you, think again. Consider this my resignation. You got witnesses, save us some paperwork. Good luck running this fucking place.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Well, that was easy.

Must be beginner’s luck. In the moments that follow, the room fills with the top people in the Finance, Marketing, Product, and Assets departments. The heads of departments take seats. Their seconds stand behind them.

I don’t like that one bit.

“Greetings, everyone,” I say. “Thanks for being here. First things first, let’s make this a little more workable.” I grab the edge of the table. “Everyone standing, go grab a chair. Everyone sitting, please stand and help me move this mammoth out of the way.”

There’s a bit of hesitation, and then one by one everyone starts moving. After much pushing and shoving, we have the conference table nudged sideways, against the far wall, right below the projection screen. Within ten minutes, a group of people with sleeves rolled up are talking to each other, pushing, pulling, then sitting in chairs arranged in a large circle where everyone fits.

“That wasn’t working,” I say once the voices quiet down. I take a seat within the circle, my back to the door. At any time now, the consultants will get here, and I want to be able to greet them personally. “With everyone’s help, we turned a stifling room into a convivial gathering. This is what I want to do with Red Barn Baking.”

I go on to explain the broad lines of my vision, and as I’m doing so, Barbara leans into my ear, and says, “The consultant just arrived in the building.” I nod and continue rolling out my plan. There’s an absolutely mouthwatering smell invading the room, and for a beat, I wonder if I’m manifesting the smell of bread as I’m talking about the soul-deep connections we make around bread.

“I’m counting on each one of you to give your honest opinion of the feasibility of all this, but I do need you to be fully on board if you’re going to stay with RBB. There will be no hard feelings if you decide this is not for you, and you’d rather pursue your career somewhere else.” I pause for effect. “That being said, I’m told our consultant is in the building, and—oh my god.” There’re baskets of bread being handed around, making their way to the table in the back, which is quickly set up like a buffet. People are standing up, attracted to the smell. “Whoever dreamed this up, you have a promotion already,” I say giggling.

Then I turn around to greet the consultant and my giggle dies in my throat while my knees buckle and the room spins.

Christopher is leaning against the door jamb, holding a dark suit jacket over his shoulder. “I like your vision, Ms. Pierce,” he says in a low, rumbling voice. “I’d be honored to help you bring it to life, if you’ll allow me to help.”

I steady myself on the back of a chair while our eyes lock.

He came. He came here.

All the way here.

To help me.

His gaze all but eats me up, top to bottom and back up again. His eyes are circled with fatigue, and he’s lost weight. But his gaze is full of love, so intense I can feel it. He came for so much more than to help with Red Barn.

Our eyes are locked for what seems like an eternity, saying all that we cannot yet tell each other. Sorrow. Love. Forgiveness. I’m so overwhelmed by the force of it, that I shut my eyes momentarily. When I look up again, Christopher is walking past me, into the room, and as he does so, his fingers lightly touch mine, the burn radiating to my core.

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