Page 167 of Turn Over


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I waited while the operator set up the conference call and the investors dialed in one at a time. There was always someone late to the table. This time it was Keith Higgins.

“Keith, ready to talk money?” I joked. The man didn’t have a funny bone in his body.

“That you Lachlan?” he asked.

“Sure is. What do you say we flip to page five of the preliminaries so we can come up with a number that will work for all of us?”

I directed the call, walking them through the projections my team had put together for us. I was venturing into a small oil and gas company. It was less risky if I partnered with a few others for the first time. Once I had a handle on the business I would either buy them out or move onto my next acquisition on my own.

Finally, I ended the call. The conferences were over. The analysis. The debates. The cajoling. My head swam with numbers. I walked to the fridge and reached inside for a beer. I tossed the cap on the counter.

The only thing that would make this beer better is if Sydney were here. I pulled my phone out to call her.

“Hey girl, hungry yet?” I should have asked her to come over straight from work. I wanted to get lost in her arms, lips, and laughter after the day I had.

“Hey. I don’t know if I can eat.”

“What’s going on?” The beer slid down my throat.

“Can I just come over?” she asked. There was more in her voice, but I couldn’t tell. I only knew she was upset.

“Yeah. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I hung up the phone and waited for her to knock on the door.

Twenty minutes later I heard her tap on the door. I swung it open.

“Darlin’, what’s going on?” I could see it all over her face. I forgot about the shitty calls and the disappointing sales results. It all seemed secondary.

“It didn’t go so well today.” She dropped onto the couch.

I sat on the coffee table. Her eyes were red, her mascara smudged. “What happened?”

“I think they’re going to fire me.”

I shook my head. “No. Fire you? That sounds like a bad idea.”

“Yes. Alice said there’s nowhere to move me, and I’ve already outed myself as a biased reporter where you’re concerned.”

“What about the features gig?”

“It wasn’t as concrete as I thought it was. She was speaking in abstracts.” She looked at me. “I screwed up the whole thing.”

“Hey, come here.” I moved to the couch, so I could fold her in my arms. “That’s not the only job out there.”

She sniffed. “It is the only one. I looked all afternoon. There is nothing down here in nowhere Texas.”

“Why are you only looking here? What about the rest of the state? Or Florida? Or California? God, that place is loaded with reporters.”

I didn’t expect the hurt look on her face.

“You think I should move?”

I realized when the words came out of her mouth what she was thinking. “I don’t want you to move. No. But, I’m trying to think through the practical angles here. If there’s nothing here you’ve got to cast a wider net.”

She scooted back. “But you’re the reason all of this happened. You are the reason I’m going to lose my job. And you think it’s ok if my net takes me to California?”

“Syd, stop before we end up arguing. That’s not what I’m saying.”

> Her eyes flared. I might have already lost.

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