Page 20 of Beautiful Exile

Arden’s ferocity and vitality pulled at me. It was the sort of thing that grabbed you by the throat and never let go, forcing you to wake up and pay attention.

“I’ll walk you out,” I offered, already heading in that direction as if Shep didn’t know the way far better than I did.

“I’ll shoot you a text when I’ve got something for you to look at,” Shep said as he headed outside and toward his truck.

“Sounds good. Thanks for taking this on.”

He shot me a grin. “Kind of fun to work on a project with no budget.”

I chuckled. “Just no gold toilet seats, okay?”

“Aw man,” Shep mock complained.

“You’ll live,” I called over my shoulder as I headed back inside.

Just as I closed the door behind me, my phone rang. I pulled it from my back pocket, tapping accept as I read my second-in-command’s name.

“Hey, Nina,” I greeted.

“We’ve got a problem.” Right to the point, like always. I appreciated her lack of pretense and bullshit. But we’d lost the need for that long ago. When you knew someone for almost two decades, hand holding wasn’t required for bad news.

Nina and I had met at Stanford, both struggling to balance classes and as many part-time jobs as possible while determined tomake the most of the opportunities in front of us. We’d both continued on to get our MBAs at the university, specializing in entrepreneurship. The moment I secured enough capital to make my company a reality, I’d asked her to join me. We’d been running Gardien—the company I’d named using my mother’s native French—together ever since.

“On a scale of french fries in your milkshake to pineapple on pizza, how bad is it?” I asked, knowing that she hated both with a passion, but that there was nothing worse than the sacrilege of pineapple on Italian food to her.

She snorted across the line. “The best thing about you being gone is that I don’t risk coming across any leftover Hawaiian atrocities in the kitchen.” She paused for a moment, and I knew I needed to brace. “We lost Ice Edge.”

My fingers tightened around the phone, annoyance and confusion sliding through me. The company produced a variety of hockey gear and was one of the few with manufacturing operations in the United States. They’d been struggling for the past few years, and I saw a way to turn that around. The fact that I owned a hockey team that could put new eyes on the gear and brand didn’t hurt either.

“How?” I growled.

“I don’t know, but I’m working on finding out. Mike went into negotiations today, and the owner said they’d gotten another offer last night and were taking it. He already signed.”

I cursed. I hated losing deals, but this one bothered me a little more than normal. I’d liked the owner, Shawn. I’d thought he understood how we could take his company to the next level. But it was also something more. I’d seen how he was with his son. Had witnessed the bond they shared through hockey. It was something I’d never had with my father, and I’d wanted to support that more than anything.

“Who?” I asked. It wasn’t unusual for other companies to try to swoop in and disrupt our deals. I’d gained a reputation for wisely choosing fledgling companies, and others wanted in on that. But we’d kept this one under lock and key. Only four or five people even knew about it.

“Don’t know that either, but I’m working on it.”

“Text me the second you know more,” I snapped.

“Don’t get growly at me, Linc,” Nina barked. “I wanted this deal as much as you did.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“That’s better.”

“Gonna get off this call before you ground me.”

Nina laughed. “Go for a swim. Clear your head.”

She knew me too well. “Will do. Talk to you later.”

I hung up before she could say anything else. If she took pity on me, I’d feel even worse.

The moment the call cleared, I saw I had a new text.

Philip Pierce

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