Page 24 of The Invitation
He zooms after the ball just as my phone begins to ring.
I pluck it out of my pocket. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Gannon says. “You busy?”
I take the slobbery ball from Waffles and launch it again. “Not really. What’s up?”
“I just read a report that the public perception of our family hasn’t fully rebounded following Dad’s attempted implosion of Brewer Group.”
“Really?” I ask, giving Waffles a look not to jump on me. He sits quickly and side-eyes the ball at my feet. “Tate said he was getting a warmer welcome with the investors.”
“Yes, but the investors aren’t the public, so to speak.”
I pick up the ball and throw it as far as I can. “I saw the financial reports from the last quarter. They looked solid. I thought everyone was pleased with them.”
Gannon sighs. “We’re happy with where we standfor now. We’ve done a hell of a lot better than I anticipated at turning things back around and cultivating investor confidence. But the public’s impression of us is a different battle, and one we don’t seem to be winning.”
My stomach twists as a dark cloud settles over my head … because as much as this sucks professionally for Brewer Group, this doesn’t directly relate to me. What I do doesn’t impact Brewer’s bottom line.
Dad’s sentence from years ago comes back to haunt me.“You are completely redundant to our company. You make no contributions to our family.” He laughs. “If we took you out of the equation, life would carry on.”
“If the public looks at us negatively, it’ll undoubtedly bleed into employee morale,” Gannon continues. “It’ll affect our brand value, and we’ll lose a marketing advantage. People want to support exciting, feel-good stories. Thanks to Dad, we might be exciting, but it’s for all the wrong reasons.”
A year ago, Gannon and I would not be having this conversation. Dad kept me out of discussions about the family business as a punishment for not letting him direct my life. Of course, he never said that outright, but I know it’s true. We all do. But now that he’s gone, my siblings incorporate me into conversations and decisions, even if all I can offer is a sounding board. We all lean on each other more. We despise what our father did, but I think we’re all almost grateful for it in a way. He removed the thorn that kept our family segmented and brought us together.
It's a silver lining in a very dark time. But it’s a silver lining, nonetheless.
“What can we do?” I ask, stopping short of asking what I personally can do to help the situation. Gannon sliding over the question or telling me outright that there’s nothing in my capacity as an exercise physiologist that I can do to assist the family efforts won’t do either of us any favors.
My chest is heavy as I toss Waffles’s ball again.
“Bianca is coming home for a few days next week for a big-picture strategy session. Tate is doing all he can,” Gannon says. “Jason has put together a PR campaign for Brewer Air. It’s getting approved by the legal team now. And once Renn is in the Royals front office, we’ll devise a plan for them, too. I have people assessing how we can best use the Arrows and the Raptors hockey team. It helps to have you go to the facilities and interact with the players. They like you. It gives us a very relatable vibe—like we care about people. Which we do, but you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
There’s a long pause. “While we’re here, I was going to ask if you’ve had a moment to call Jonah Spaulding.”
“Yeah, I did. I left a message for him yesterday and haven’t heard back. Do you know what he wants? Tate acted like it was abig secret, and Jonah’s email was pretty nondescript.” I pull the phone away from my face. “Leave it alone, Waffles. It’s going to sting your tongue.”
The puppy turns and lifts one ear on top of his head.
“Jonah might’ve changed his mind,” Gannon says. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much if he doesn’t return your call. But, if he does call you back with a proposition, I’d appreciate you considering it.”
“A proposition, huh?” I laugh. “Is there something I should know? I only like women, Gannon.”
He laughs, too. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Good.” I take the ball from Waffles and chuck it away from the insect. “So that’s all I get? There’s a mysterious proposition?”
“There might be a mysterious proposition, but it was up in the air when I talked to him on Tuesday. He was floating an idea by me, and I thought we might be able to make it work.”
“And somewhere along the way, you and Tate decided I might be able to make it work?”
“Well, Tate, Jason, Bianca, and me. Renn was iffy, but we got him on board.”
“Fuck you,” I say, laughing again. “So everyone knows about this but me?”
A car horn blasts in the background. “It’ll probably never come to fruition, so don’t worry about it. We’re making it out to be more than it is.”
