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“Bill, you need to calm down. Have a seat so I can explain what Mr. Varney is doing here.” Bill’s eyebrows furrow, and confusion mares his face. He scratches his head and takes a seat at the other end of the table. Drew glares an intense deadpan glare at Bill, remaining silent.
“Bill, Mr. Big Talker Varney here tells me as of midnight tonight Dalton Trucking will no longer be in contract with Simon Energy to carry our coal. He tells me that since you refuse to breech the contract, you are both prepared to offer me a substantial amount of money to buy out that contract; is any of this true?”
“It’s true that he wants to breech the contract, only because the greedy asshole wants Dalton Truckin’ to sign with American Heritage Coal Company. I’ve done told him that Simon Energy could burn to the ground tonight, and I still wouldn’t sign a damn contract with AHCC to haul their damn coal.”
Drew listens to the conversation between Bill and me.
“Bill, I’ve turned down Mr. Varney’s offer to buy out the contract between Dalton Trucking and Simon Energy. So I expect to have trucks lined up, waiting to be loaded with coal. Do you both understand?” Drew doesn’t offer any answer, but Bill agrees.
“Now, I have offered to buy his partnership in Dalton Trucking. I’d imagine it would rid you of one pain in your ass. I’m just waiting on him to tell me his number, and then we can get the transaction started. So what do you say, Mr. Varney? What amount of money is it going to take for you to walk away from Dalton Trucking and out of our lives?”
Bill looks to me, then to Drew, waiting for his response. Drew stands from the chair, straightens his suit jacket, brushing at the imaginary lint on the cuff of his sleeve. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks toward the door. He twists the knob and turns back to me.
“Ms. Simon, I’m disappointed that we couldn’t come to an agreement today. I’ll be in touch. Bill, I’ll see you at the office later.”
Chapter 29
Carly
It’s been two weeks since Drew Varney walked into my office unannounced. Two weeks since finally seeing with my own eyes the breathing evil that is my illegitimate brother. Drew seems to be laying below the radar. I was dead serious about buying his partnership with Dalton Trucking just to rid Bill of that pain in the ass.
When I told Colton what I had offered Drew, he wasn’t sure how to respond. I explained to him that I didn’t want the partnership myself. I had planned to sign my portion of the company over to him so he could keep the business in his family where it belonged—safe from the talons of venomous vultures like Drew Varney.
I see Bill almost daily, and he hasn’t mentioned anything else about the contracts, or my offering to buy out Drew’s partnership for Dalton Trucking. In fact, Bill has been utterly silent, and it has Colton really worried. Bill is a grouchy ass bastard; there is no denying that. But there is something that lies beneath the surface, something that is gnawing at him about this entire situation. Colton has tried to talk to him, but he just pushes him away and tells him to leave the business to him and keep mining his coal.
Colton and I are moving forward, trying to rebuild our relationship into what it once was. When we come home from work each day, we spend our evenings with Kylee Jo, then we fall into each other’s arms once we have her tucked away in bed. Kylee Jo is beyond ecstatic that I’m around more often, and she brings immense happiness into my life.
Colton is working nightshift tonight and has been in the bed most of the evening, so I surprised Kylee Jo with a girls’ night out. I picked her up from school early, and started the evening off with mani/pedis at my favorite salon. Next, we hit the mall and do some Christmas shopping for her and Colton. This kid can shop! Every store she walks in she finds a new dress or shoes that she just can’t live without. Probably doesn’t help that I enjoy shopping just as much and have a sweet spot for her chunky little face. We finish the evening at her favorite ice cream shop, sharing a bowl full of chocolate ice cream.
“Oh, I’m sure glad you brought me for ice cream, Carly Jo. Daddy won’t let me eat it when it snows; he says it’s too cold and that I need hot chocolate, not ice cream.”
“Your daddy is silly, Kylee Jo. He just doesn’t understand that no matter how cold it is outside, a girl always needs her ice cream.”
She laughs, cramming a spoonful of the chocolaty goodness into her mouth. “Ya know, my daddy thinks you’re more than just pretty, Carly Jo. He loves ya,” she says, licking the spoon.
“He does? Just what makes ya think that, sweets?” I kid with her, amused by her excitement that she thinks she’s sharing secrets.
“Because he always brushes his teeth and sprays on that boy perfume when he’s comin’ to see you. He bakes peanut butter kiss cookies for you, and he named me after you. Daddy loves me to the moon and back, so he has to love you a whole awful lot to name me after you.” Her wide eyes glisten brightly as she whispers this secret across the table.
I think about what she says for just a minute, and then it hits me. He gave Kylee Jo my middle name.
Colton is the only person who always calls me Carly Jo. Everyone else refers to me as Carly. Or when I was little and in trouble, Daddy called me Carolina Jo Simon which translated to oh shit, what’d I do now? I giggle along with her, and commit the comment to memory.
Kylee Jo finishes her ice cream, licking the bowl clean, but missing her sticky hands and cheeks. I wipe her face and tell her to go to the bathroom to wash her hands before we leave. She bounces from the bathroom a few minutes later, and we leave the ice cream shop to head home. I fasten her seat belt and climb in the driver seat. I start the engine, then thumb through the playlist on my phone, searching for a song to jam to.
“What song do you want to hear?” I ask Kylee Jo over my shoulder.
“Eh, nothin’ right now.”
“Nothing? What’s wrong, did you eat so much ice cream that you’re worried you might shake your belly too much dancing in your seat?”
“Nah, I just wanna talk right now is all,” she states, very matter-of-factly.
“Okay, talk, sweets.”
“Well … I don’t wanna hurt your feelings.” I turn in my seat and look at her chubby little face. She’s looking down at her skirt, fidgeting with the hot pink sequin.
“Kylee Jo, whatever it is, you can say it, sweets. I’m a big girl; you won’t hurt my feelings, promise.”
