Page 118 of Daily Grind
Brian swallowed at the underlying threat. Fuck up again and Lamont would walk—and while he might not have command of making all the drinks—customers liked him. Hell, Brian liked him. The drinks would come in time.
Justin was proof of that.
He headed into the back to stow the laptop and reached for his phone to text—
Fuck. He was not texting Rob. It took all his energy not to let out a sob. Rob didn’t trust Brian to run his own shop. No matter how much Brian wanted to reach out, he’d made up his mind.
He straightened and watched Lamont. At this point, Brian wasn’t sure he trustedhimselfto run his shop anymore, but without Rob in his life… Grounds N’at was all he had.
For the first time since he opened the place, that thought crumpled his heart and soul.
You’re the one who tossed him out.
That was starting to feel like the greatest mistake of his life.
* * *
“This meetingwith Agella is extremely important, Robert,” Christopher Zaccardi said.
Rob resisted the urge to throw off his headset. Fucking board of directors. They’d all been on his case, lately. Chris wasn’t usually a dick, but when he got nervous, his asshole nature came out. Rob tapped the unmute button. “I’m well aware of that, Chris. I’ve been doing this job for a while.”
Silence on the other end, then a sigh. “It did take you some time to schedule your visit.”
He winced at that, glad this was a phone conference and not video chat or an in-person meeting. He had. Perhaps too long. Putting personal ahead of business.
But since Brian wouldn’t do the same …
“I was still settling into Pittsburgh,” he said, “but you’re correct. This is an important visit. I let Agella pick the best time for them.”
That seemed to mollify Chris. “Well, if they chose the timing, July is fine.”
Rob rubbed his forehead. “What aren’t you guys telling me?” He remained majority owner of CirroBot, but barely. He’d handed much of the power over to the BoD. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Until they started keeping him out of the loop.
“What do you mean?” More nervousness from Chris, and Rob nearly succumbed to the need to violently abuse his headset.
“You’re not the only board member who’s called me this week.” Rob leaned back in his chair. “What are you guys doing with my company?”
“It’s not entirely yours.” There was a bit of a bite in Chris’s response. “We’re not doing anything.”
“Yet.”
A chuckle. “You did bring us on to help you.”
He had. Some days—like today—he regretted it. The tension of not being in control, the frustration, the need to be in the driver’s seat.
Pain stabbed through his heart and he exhaled against it.
Brian. This wasexactlywhat Brian must have felt—must feel. Except it would take a lot longer to run CirroBot down.
Wouldn’t take much to sink a tiny coffee shop.
“Robert?”
“Sorry. I was… thinking. It’s not easy to give up control.”
Another huff of laughter. “Don’t I know it.” A pause. “It’s all forward thinking at this point. But every deal, every breakthrough—they’re important.”
There were two paths—well, three—for a company like CirroBot. The first—folding—he wouldn’t contemplate. They’d come too far for that. Which meant there were two options: Be bought by someone larger or go IPO and get listed on a stock market. Theycouldremain private—and had in a volatile market—but sooner or later, all those private shares would start burning a hole in everyone’s pocket.
