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The brothers looked among themselves for a second. “Ellen,” they said in unison.
* * *
Ellen was a petite woman in her early sixties with a neat bob. She wore a hot pink sweater set and pearls, and she smelled like roses.
“Let me hug you, dear. We’re so delighted to meet you.” She pulled me in close. The woman was deceptively strong. “I’ve known this one since he was in diapers, and he’s never brought a girl around.”
Paz shifted uncomfortably, clearly hating the scrutiny his love life was garnering. “Ellen has worked here for decades.”
She patted his cheek. “I was Mr. Gagnon’s secretary back when we were allowed to use that term.”
“She’s our comptroller now. Couldn’t run the place without her.” His voice was full of esteem. It was something I had noticed about the Gagnons, and Paz in particular. The pride and belief they had in creating jobs for their community. It wasn’t the sort of thing I would have expected of a money-hungry shark like Paz, but perhaps he had grown beyond his private equity roots.
“I told you I’m only giving you two more years. I wanna retire and play pickle ball in Florida. You’ll have to replace me eventually.”
Paz cringed in response, making her laugh.
Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “Everyone always gossips about this one. Calling him a womanizer and all that silliness. But I knew better. He only needed the right girl to come along.”
I smiled, enjoying how Paz’s face turned purple.
“And you’re perfect. An author? So smart and ambitious. He’s handsome, but a handful. Seems like you’ve got the backbone to handle him.”
Taking advantage of Paz’s embarrassment, I pulled him closer and popped up on my tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. His beard was softer than it looked. “He’s one in a million,” I gushed.
“You must tell me how you met.”
I shot him a saucy look, enjoying his reddening cheeks. It was his tell. Despite his cool demeanor, they gave him away every time.
“I’d love to,” I told her, using her chattiness to my advantage. “Are you free for lunch? I have a whole bunch of questions about how this place works, and it seems like you’re the woman to talk to.”
Her face lit up. “Lovely. I’ll take you to the diner and we can talk shop. But only after girl talk.” She giggled. “I want to know how this one managed to land you.”
* * *
As expected, Ellen was a wealth of information. She gave me the full history and job description of every single Gagnon Lumber employee for the past five years. As well as all the personal gossip. She was hilarious, and we made plans to get mani-pedis in the coming weeks.
Chatting with her, though, made my heart ache a little. I missed my mother. We had never been able to bond in this low-stakes kind of way. Things were always so fraught, so tense, because of my father. Even after the divorce, I think I reminded her too much of what she had gone through.
She was happy now. And safe. Remarried to a wonderful man who treated her like a princess. Every time we spoke, I could tell how happy she was. But I missed her presence more than I’d realized.
After everyone else had headed home, Paz and I sat in his office. I was looking at a massive framed map of the north woods, which detailed all the logging roads and the claims of all four logging families.
“The main roads are privately owned?” I asked, tracing the massive trails along the map.
He didn’t even look up from his laptop. “Yes. There are four main timber companies. We share ownership of the Golden Road and several of the connecting roads. We all use them to transport south to the mill or north to Canada.”
“But you’re not in business together?”
“Fuck no. It’s a partnership for transport, that’s it. The Clarks and LeBlancs do their own thing. And those Hebert fuckers are the last people I’d ever do business with.”
I shoved my pencil into my messy bun as I studied how the land had been carved up. “Why do the Heberts have so much more land?”
“They bought out smaller companies decades ago. Engaged in all kinds of shady tactics to force out competitors. We held on, but there were some hard times.” His head was still bent over his work, but he continued. “We’re competitors, but we work together on the roads. Because without roads, we can’t get the trees out of the woods and to the mill.”
I traced the lines with my fingertip as millions of questions swirled around in my mind. “So we suspect the other families?” It was clear the Gagnons trusted no one.
“Yes. Don’t be fooled by the fake harmony. This is a cutthroat business involving multiple generations of each of our families. Shit has happened. Grudges are held.”
