Page 119 of Burn It Down

“Surviving. The backlash has been pretty heavy as expected. How are you?”

“I’m managing. I was just calling to see if you’d still be willing to attend the October fundraiser I’m doing for breast cancer? I have a bit of downtime and am going through the guest list.”

My stomach flips. I’d forgotten I’d committed a quarter of a million dollars to her next cause.

“Shit, Cor, I don’t even think I can make the donation I promised. My dad is suing me for literally every penny I have. I promised Dylan I’d help him and his dad get a new shop in a safer part of town and I’m stretched so thin I’m just hoping I can afford toilet paper next week.”

“Wow, that’s terrible. I’m really sorry to hear that, Jacob.”

I hate letting people down and that’s exactly what I’m doing to everyone.

“Cor, I bet my dad will make my contribution. He’s always loved you and I’m sure he’s looking for some way to salvage his relationship with your father after our split.”

“Sure, I’ll reach out to him. Are you still planning to attend? I’d love for you to be there, even if you aren’t donating.”

The nausea comes on so quickly I reach for the trash can beneath my desk, dry heaving forcibly, but nothing comes up.

“Jacob?” Cora asks, concern lacing her voice like always.

“Cor, I think it’s best if I start separating myself from that social circle,” I admit. “I’ve been fired, you and I have broken up, and those people will never accept Dylan or my relationship with him. There’s nothing left for me there.”

“I understand,” she says, sadly.

“I’ll always love you, Cor. And I can never repay you for the way you helped me. You gave me something no one else did and I’ll be forever grateful. Just to be clear, I don’t want to cutyouout, Cora. I just need to take a step back from that world.”

“I’m just not sure it works like that. Goodbye, Jacob.”

The line goes dead and my coffee finally makes its reappearance.

It isn’t until I’ve cleaned up that I realize I didn’t even ask her how her time in London is going.

Chapter 32

Dylan

Since Jake is on at the fire station tonight, there’s no reason for me to rush home. I contacted the commercial real estate agent he sent me and will start boxing some things up just to make the task of doing everything all at once not quite so daunting.

“Hey, Dyl? Any chance you’ve got my adjustable wrench over there?”

“Yeah, neither the number two or the number three on the fixed set would give me enough room to loosen this bolt.”

“Take your time with it, I’ll move to something else until you’re done.”

I hear the wheels of his creeper rolling around as he moves under the car he’s working on and I smile, happy with my decision to sell the shop and relocate. I enjoyed the part of town Phoenix’s house is in and plan to see what my dad thinks about maybe moving out that way. I’m also smiling because I don’t have to give this up. This working relationship between my dad and I is so easy. We like the same music, we use the same tools, we know each other’s schedule, how each other works, how we like the shop organized. All the little things that can become bigthings if you get people who are polar opposites on any of the points above.

“I’m having dinner with Javier and Lita tonight so I’m going to head out in about an hour. You and Cass want me to bring anything back?”

“I’m good, thanks. Maybe check with her though?”

I wait the hour until he’s gone before I start boxing things up. It’s been easier to stay on top of repairs since we’ve lost so much of our business recently.

I grab a box that’s holding two reams of printer paper, unload the paper, and start filling the box with all the sentimental knick-knacks a shop can hold after so many years. It doesn’t take long before I need another box.

Fuck, this is such an overwhelming task.

I mosey into the office to see Cassie’s still behind the desk and she’s actually with a customer.

“Hey, Mr. Jenkins,” I hold my hand out to one of our long-time customers. An older man in his seventies, he’s on our town council and as it’s election year, I’ve seen his campaign signs all over town. He has an old BMW M3 he brings in for a tune up every year. “Is it time for the M3’s annual check-up?”

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