Page 51 of The Merger
“Whatever it is, it’s fantastic on you. So what have you been up to, darling? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”
I down half the glass of wine to bolster my confidence and to ease the distracting pulse in my soles.
“I started a business,” I say, watching her face for a reaction. “It’s called Plantcy.”
“Tell me your tagline isI’m so Plant-cy.”
Laughing, I nearly spill the wine. “That’s hilarious. If I ever get shirts or swag made, I’m putting that on there.”
“You should. It’s brilliant.”
The wine starts to take hold, washing me with a warm numbness that I’ve been after all night. I close my eyes for a split second and relish the relief—not just from my feet but also from my head.From Gannon.
“I’ll tell you why I won’t. It won’t stop there. Because that won’t be enough. It’ll never be enough.”
That son of a bitch.
I’m confident that I won that battle of wits, but I’m not sure how the war will play out. He was definitely more bamboozled than I was this afternoon. Still, he’s the owner of Brewer Group.Can I go back to work there?
I might need to push a little harder on a backup plan.
“So what does Plantcy do?” Margot asks, her lipstick leaving a ring on the glass.
“It’s a mobile plant care company.”
Her penciled-on brows arch. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” I down the rest of the wine. “I go into people’s homes and tend to their plants so they can retire after a hard day in the office and enjoy them. I’ve also been working in offices. It’s been great.”
“Honey, that’s lovely. What ingenuity! You know I appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit.”
“I didn’t really know I had that spirit until I realized that surrounding myself with plants all day is far nicer than surrounding myself with humans.”
She places a hand on her chest and chuckles. “I couldn’t agree with you more. Plants don’t talk back, they don’t spend your money, and they don’t cheat on you with younger women.”
“That’s true.”
She refills our glasses. “You know what? I have to go to Santa Barbara for a couple of weeks. I’m not sure if I’m leaving next week or the one after. Do you have space in your schedule for me and my poor little orchids?”
Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, God.
“I always have space for you, Margot.”
“I have some friends, too, who might be interested in your services. I have a restaurateur … acquaintance, let’s not call him a friend, who has an entire room dedicated to herbs. Basil, dill, lemongrass. You name it, and he has it in this indoor garden. Do you handle that sort of thing?”
“Sure. I absolutely can.”
“Oh, and I have another friend …” She laughs, mostly to herself. “He owes me a favor. Let me talk to him for you, honey. That would be a little feather in your cap.”
Internally, I’m dying. I can hear my scream echoing through my skull. But, on the outside, I play it as cool as I can with a bottle of red wine coursing through my veins.
“Margot, that would be amazing.” I sway a little. Or maybe the room does. I’m not sure. “I would really appreciate that.”
“Anything for you, my dear. Now, I’m going to find my goddaughter and congratulate her on her first home. Have you seen her?”
I struggle to think through the fog. “She was outside the last time I saw her, I think.”
“Perfect. We’ll catch up soon.”
