Page 82 of Just Like Starting Over
“You’d already decided to come, hadn’t you?”
“Yup.”
“Asshole.” There’s no heat in the word, just an acknowledgement of a simple truth.
“Yup.” The way I see it, if you’re going to be an asshole, you have to go for it. You have to make it a consistent behavioural choice. You have to be more of an asshole than anyone expects anyone to be at any given time. In short, you have to own it. I am an asshole mostly – and don’t tell anyone this little secret – because it works. It keeps all the losers and their expectations away.
You want to live your own life, make your own choices, do it your way: be an asshole.
Unconvinced? Play some compare and contrast with me here: Mike is not an asshole. He could never be an asshole some of the time or even at occasional intervals. He is the most honest, decent and helpful guy that you’ll ever meet. So, Dad walks all over him, every damn day.
Not me. The old bastard barely has the balls to talk to me atChristmas and he sure doesn’t call me up with assorted demands.
Being an asshole pays big dividends. Give it a try.
“Next Friday,” Mike says, then names the shiniest new hotel in town.
“That’s the thirteenth.”
“So?”
“Might be unlucky.”
“I doubt it. Free drinks and snacks. Women in evening wear.”
“The things I suffer for your sake,” I say with forbearance and he scoffs.
“Starts at nine and you should be out of there by midnight. If you can just show up, shake some hands, be our presence, that would be great.”
“It’s an award ceremony, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Black tie?”
“Yes.”
Good. I’m envisioning blondes in low-cut gowns already.
Mike heaves a sigh. “An initiative from the province to celebrate local producers. We’re in the market produce category.”
“Are we going to win?”
“I don’t know. The honour is in making the list, I’m told. And there might be connections to be made. We’re one of the biggest greenhouse operations in the country. We can’tnotbe there.”
I spin in my chair, biting back a reply. Is there any point in playing the game if you aren’t going to win? I’m thinking not. I’ve always thought not. But if I say as much, I could be drawn into something I don’t want to mess with.
Because Mike and I are close, despite appearances to the contrary. We know each other better than anybody. Just like Iknow how to infuriate him then get him past it, he knows how to sucker me into doing something I don’t want to do. He’s burdened by ethics, though – that’s why he didn’t challenge me to prove him wrong on this disagreement.
Or he’s saving his ammo for something bigger.
I suspect he’s waiting for a chance to challenge me to come back to Cavendish Enterprises and make everything better. Maybe because Dad is prodding him to do that.
I’m not going to give either of them the bait for that hook.
Ever.
Maybe Ishouldcheck out opportunities down under.
