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ONE
NALANI
Something was…off.
I felt it permeating the air as soon as I breezed through the doors of the office suite that keptNectarrunning smoothly.
Sweet potato latte in one hand, a green smoothie in the other. My cell phone and laptop were both tucked securely in the bag anchored on my shoulder, but the tense vibe I walked into had me wishing I had a hand free to answer my steadily buzzing phone.
Maybe itcouldn’twait until I was at my desk like I thought.
Unwilling to risk one of my drinks—orthe thick white cashmere sweater dress I’d chosen for today’s wardrobe—I put as much speed in my stride as I could in heeled boots, making it to my personal office just as the phone rang again. Once my hands were free, I pulled the device from my bag, trying to catch the call before it ended asmissed.
Daddyflashed across the screen, causing my breath to catch in my throat.
Him ringing my line at barely eight in the morning, when he usually wasn’t even in the office yet until ten, was a major clue.
Somethingwas wrong.
“Hey, Daddy,” I answered brightly, some part of me hoping my cheery tone would bleed into whatever unappealing news he was about to deliver.
“Hey Nala,” he replied with a somber undercurrent that made me hold my breath for whatever was coming next. “You on your way to the office yet?”
“I just walked in,” I answered, eyeing the drinks on my desk, knowing one of them was about to go to waste. “Why, what’s going on?”
“We need you in the big office.”
The big office.
Meaning,hisoffice.
“Why?”
“Does it matter?” he countered, and I pushed out a sigh.
No, it didn’t.
“I’ll be there in just a moment,” I said, not bothering to formally end the call sincethe big officewas just down the hall from mine. Glancing between my options on the desk, common sense told me to pick the coffee.
I had a feeling I was about to need it.
* * *
Nectarhadwhat some would calllimitedoffice space, but it was really all we needed. The store, or market as I liked to call it, took up most of the room. Our footprint was only five thousand square feet, but we’d multiplied that by expanding upward, with four open floors of organic grocery space, and one floor, the top floor, of “Personnel”. Just over half of the floor was dedicated to employee spaces—a well-appointed breakroom, restrooms, showers, and a small daycare I liked to peek in the windows of whenever I passed.
The offices were tucked off to the back, with a separate, keycard-access only entrance. In the hall that led to the different offices, one side of the floor was glassed, giving a perfect view of the open spaces below.
As a kid, it terrified me, but I loved it now, so much that it was a bit of a source of calm as I navigated my way down tothe big office,emotional support coffee in hand. I’d already burned my tongue downing half of it, but I refused to let it grow tepid on my desk like the smoothie would, while I listened to why fatherneededme in the office.
There was no way it wasgood.
That suspicion was confirmed as soon as I walked in. Our accountant, or rather, CFO, was seated at the large conference table that took up a good part of the office, looking grim as usual. He wasn’t my favorite person in the world; I hated being told no, and he employed the word way too often when I was presenting ideas that would helpNectar’sgrowth. His favorite thing to say waswe can’t afford that, but I suspected that had more to do with him and my father being old school. I got enough of what I wanted to keep me cool.
For now.
“Good morning, Alan,” I greeted him, before looking at the head of the table for my father. “Let me guess, the market is down again?”
We weren’t publicly traded and never would be as long as I had anything to do with it. All growth wasn’t good, but like any business of our size, we had investments that made us vulnerable to the ebb and flow of the stock market.
