Page 14 of Standing Still

“Yeah,” I blow out a breath. “Good old dad.”

Ben raises his eyes to look behind me. The server is bringing my gin and tonic. He eyes it with a smirk. “You used to be a beer girl.”

“Things change.”

“They sure do,” he says, holding my gaze.

“Do you know what you would like to eat?” the perky girl says, holding out her notepad.

I order the special Craig recommended. Ben frowns as he orders the same, as if he’s unhappy we want the same thing. The server takes our menus and heads away from the table. God, this is painful. It doesn’t help. I suddenly remember the last time I saw him, just before I walked away and left him behind.

He was angry, scowling much the same way he is now, but the underlying sadness in his eyes always stayed with me. I’m not sure he actually knew I broke my own heart that day, too.

“It seems I’m at your mercy, Elle,” Ben leans back. “What do I have to do to convince you not to sell the company?”

“Do you think I want to sell? If it was up to me, I’d just hand it over to you. I’m not the bad guy in this scenario, Ben. The guy you seem to have grown close to while I’ve been gone is the one who has done this to us.”

“He changed, Elle.”

“I’m glad you got to see that.” I cross my arms.

“He made a lot of mistakes. He knew that.”

“And I’m sure I would have been happy to hear all about that, had be bothered to contact me.”

“You told him not to,” Ben points out.

“If he cared even one iota about making things right, that wouldn’t matter, and you know it. He didn’t care. Or he was scared. Either way, he never tried.”

His left eye twitches. For a second, I think he is going to give me some shit about that, but he holds his tongue. Looks like it took a lot for him to hold back. I eye him warily. Truth is, I do hold all the power here and I don’t like it. I’m not an aggressive person, I’d sooner avoid conflict at all costs, especially this kind.

I wonder if he ever got married. My eyes sweep down to his hands. No ring. When I look back up, he has a knowing look on his face. A blush rises up my cheeks.

“I know there are some bad memories between us, but can we put them aside to figure this out?”

“I’m all ears,” he says.

I’ve spent hours trying to think of something, but it’s impossible. Short of me spending half of my year here, which I absolutely do not want to do.

“Would Day Away Fishing employ you?”

Ben just stares at me in silence.

“It’s not an invalid question.”

“Let me remind you of something. The biggest part of George Fishing and Charters is commercial fishing. More than seventy percent of our revenue comes from the catches we provide, not just locally, but from all the contracts we have around the greater CT area.

The happy little day trips were only ever meant to supplement the income. That side of the business is small, and I only have one person who runs those tours. The rest of the people working for me are fishermen, Elle. Do you know what Day Away Fishing does?”

My lips purse. “I looked them up.”

“Oh good, so you know that what they do is one hundred percent party tours for rich men who want to gofishingfor fun, or as a group bonding exercise? They’ve already swallowed up two businesses here. You know we all work together, sure there is rivalry for contracts, but we’re not competitive and we don’t take each other’s business. We stick together.

The two that sold were due to debt and needing to move away from the area. It has already affected the charter side of George’s. We don’t offer the flashy boats and gifts, we offer a solid day of proper fishing. When people call up expecting the kind of shit Day Away offer that we can’t provide, they don’t book with us.

“What exactly do you think is going to happen to the fishermen in Mystic if more people end up going out of business? If I sell to Day Away, that is three businesses they will have taken over. The others won’t stand a chance. Elle,” he shakes his head and looks away from me. “I get it. This is a tough spot for you. If someone came in here and told me I had to move to New York for six months out of every twelve, I’d lose my shit.”

“Exactly,” I say.

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