Page 28 of The Right Guy

HUNTER

It's for the best.

I kid myself with this thought. I didn’t travel this far, this close to closing my first solo acquisition, to be distracted by a woman. A woman who is only interested in me as part of some game. A woman who reminds me that I’m not that special, my most attractive trait being the timing of walking into a room. Once she had gotten from me what she wanted, I was going to be discarded to the side like so much she’s walked away from already. Her hometown, her community, her family.

The harsh thoughts, however, quickly evaporate the moment I think about Catherine. It’s obvious from the little time I’ve spent with her that she loves her family, and her sister loves her back just as hard. It’s no different than me and my siblings. We’ve each had to strike out on our own unique journey that takes us away from our home base, but it doesn’t mean we aren’t still connected.

But the relationship with Catherine isn’t real.

Full stop.

I don’t know why I’m sitting here feeling abandoned when she never said it was anything but that. Yes, there is a physical connection between us, the passion behind our kisses can’t be faked. But a physical relationship isn’t sustainable. And even though my heart keeps pounding out a beat that says the connection we share is genuine, there are too many half-truths between us to know what is true versus the imagined. For every glimpse I get of her when she lowers her barricades, they quickly snap back in place and make me wonder if what I witness is accurate.

I’m here to focus on business. She is headed to another state in a few days with her own set of plans.

It's for the best.

The spreadsheet on the laptop in front of me turns into a blur, my focus not on the numbers but back on a boulder watching the sun set over the red clay mountains. An emptiness I’ve never felt in all my travels rips through me. A desire to have a special someone sitting next to me, sharing that sunset, sharing my next sunrise. Sharing all my tomorrows.

There is no need to review numbers I can recite in my sleep. The information I’ve collected this week will allow me to lower my initial estimate to purchase the Legendary by a quarter of a million dollars. Insider information that can only be collected by being behind the scenes giving me more than enough ammunition to counter any push back the owners may have when confronted. The additional savings are more than enough to justify the week of undercover work as a maintenance man. I will need all the funds I can scrounge up as the damage Frankie has done in short order is deep and wide.

A browser window pops up from behind the spreadsheet. The website for the Crystal Palace. It’s one of the top catering halls in Indiana, having leaped to its historical ranking of number three in the state a year ago after having hovered around number fifty for a decade. It’s even more impressive because the hall doesn’t reside in the capital of Indianapolis or even Fort Wayne or South Bend, but in the tiny town of Destiny Falls. The place Catherine now calls home.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover in my research that Catherine is the general manager for the facility. Her tenure coinciding with the rise in stature of the facility. It explains her keen eye when performing the Legendary walk through. How she knew exactly what to pinpoint to make sure the wedding reception runs smoothly.

The reception I just walked away from.

I lower the laptop screen and curse myself for feeling a loss I haven’t earned. It’s the price we pay for toying with our hearts. My mom would be so disappointed to hear what I’ve been doing.

My eyes drop to scan my phone and I make note of the time. A little past ten. Still too soon to head into work for what I hope will be my last shift. Right now, Catherine is probably on her third Cosmo, partying with her girlfriends at the bachelorette party. I push away the image of her in tight bike shorts only to have it replaced with an image of her in a tight black mini dress with high heels that showcase her shapely legs, the ones I stared at all afternoon.

Without thinking I scoop up the phone and dial. It’s just past eight on the east coast. “Xavier tells me you’re ready to make an offer. Sunday brunch golf, good to see somebody was paying attention.”

Dad.

His gravelly voice is filled with pride and joy. Once I close the deal, he’ll be able to focus on my younger brother Dante. Dante has taken a circuitous route to the family business. One that took him to culinary school rather than graduate school. A decision that puzzles Dad to this day. Dante, however, isn’t some spoiled young brat. He may march to a different beat that is uniquely his own, but he does have a plan. A brilliant plan. A path only Dante could blaze.

Mom has hinted that once Dante is established, Dad may consider retiring. I can’t picture that.

“I learned from the best,” I return, knowing it will bring a smile to his face.

His laughter floats across the line and I picture him in my apartment sitting in the high back seat I purchased just for his visits, leg crossed, his thousand-dollar Italian shoe swinging as he speaks. “How much is the jumpsuit discount?”

The undercover jumpsuit trick is a Farro trademark invented by Dad. A way to see a business up close behind the blinding lights of PowerPoint slides and fancy spins from public relations firms. On the ground, in the trenches where you can see, touch, and smell the real work. It always exposes the weaknesses in a business. The jumpsuit discount is the amount we reduce our original offer based on the undercover assignment.

“A quarter of a million.”

Dad whistles. “I think the next jumpsuit will have to be golden.” I hear the squeak of the hand grip strengthener that sits next to the keyboard in the home office. Another busy week, it’s always a busy week for the Farro’s. “Well, if the meeting is set and your numbers are in place, what can I help you with?”

His question puts me on my heels. I’m out west far away from home by choice. I want to prove I can make it on my own. “Who said I’m looking for advice?”

The squeaks cease, replaced by a snicker. “Because you are a single man in a new city on a Friday night, yet you picked up the phone and called your father.” Before I can react, he continues, “And I love it. I’m here for it. All of it.”

I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t want to bother Melody who is dealing with her own challenges in the love department. Xavier is the eternal bachelor, which means he’s useless when it comes to relationships, and I can’t imagine any scenario where I’d turn to my younger brother for relationship advice. I love him dearly but he’s a younger brother.

“I know you are Dad. And if there is ever anything I need, I know you are there.” I hear the words in my head and realize he’s already given me what I need. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I had a few minutes before heading off to a bachelor party. Tell Mom hi.”

“A bachelor party? That was quick. I always knew you’d hit the ground running. You have a rare gift of connecting with people. People trust you right away. That’s how I always knew you’d be the most successful Farro with the jumpsuit. Five minutes with you and their truths tumble right out.” The squeaks return, Dad always looking forward to the next handshake, the next deal. “It’s like a superpower.”

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