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Jax had just thrown back a beer with an old friend, Jeremy Gibbins, who helped organize the Xtreme Games, when Lucas slid onto the barstool beside him.
“Tim, we’ll take two more,” Lucas said to the bartender, pointing to Jax’s beer and indicating two bottles of a local ale.
“You here to deliver another cheap shot, then go crying to Peggy that I beat you up?” Jax asked.
“Haven’t decided. And I didn’t tell Peggy shit. Everyone in the conference room heard us yelling. Hell, everyone in the office heard.” Tim delivered the beer and the two sat in silence for a moment.
“I saw you with Jeremy Gibbins,” Lucas finally said. “I didn’t know he was coming.”
“I invited him under the guise of a free vacay, but really I wanted to pick his brain about how the Xtreme Games operate.”
Lucas lifted his beer and took a long pull. “Any good pointers?”
“Yeah, including that he might be interested in moving west if the right opportunity presented itself.” Jeremy had all but handed over his résumé. “He loves his job, but he’s reached the ceiling and unless the founder steps aside, he’s not moving up anytime soon.”
“So what? You’re already looking for my replacement?”
Jax fiddled with his bottle, rolling the rim between his thumb and finger. “If that’s what you want?” When Lucas didn’t speak, Jax pulled Jeremy’s business card from his pocket and slid it toward his brother. “I was thinking more of a president to your CEO. But that decision’s up to you.”
Lucas grunted. He was sitting forward, elbows folded on the bar, apparently riveted by the condensation on his bottle because he didn’t even spare Jax a glance.
“So, is this us now?” Jax asked. “Surface questions and the occasional grunt?”
Lucas slid him a sidelong look. “It’s a step up from throwing fists.”
Jax wasn’t so sure about that. At least when they’d been fighting there was some kind of emotion behind it. This? This was uncomfortable and stale as hell.
“Why did you come over?”
“I wanted a beer.”
Jax coughed “Bullshit” into his hand. “There are a handful of open stools, but you chose this one, why?”
“I was going over the numbers and we’ve generated a quarter more revenue than our best year. Which is pretty impressive since two months ago we had the lowest enrollment in the history of the event. Including the inaugural year.”
Jax let out a low whistle. “What happened?”
“You.” Lucas turned to face him. “You happened. Between the new participants you attracted and the sponsors you brought in, I think we’ll be able to swing that house in Santa Barbara without selling the lodge. At least the down payment.”
“Is this where you tell me I ruined your life?”
He shook his head. “Nah, this is where I tell you that you were right.”
Jax cupped his hand around his ear. “Say that again?”
Lucas shoulder checked Jax so hard he nearly fell off the stool. “Kent dropped by my place this morning to have one of his chats.” Jax grimaced. Kent’s chats were kind of like marathons, they could last anywhere from an hour to the end of time and you always ended up sweaty and exhausted. “He was so excited about how the event was coming together that he admitted he never wanted to sell. He just thought it was his only option. And I had practically signed away the family legacy.”
“You can still be a part of the legacy from a distance,” Jax said quietly. “Just because they changed their minds doesn’t mean you have to.”
Lucas lifted a single shoulder and let it fall. “I thought about that, but I guess I’m more like Kent than I’d like to admit. The thought of someone else running this place while it’s still in the family doesn’t sit right.”
“Does that mean you’re staying on?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what it means. I told Kent I’d stay on until the end of the year and then we can revisit.”
“What about AvalancheEx?”
“It’s been back-burnered for five years, what’s another year?” Lucas tipped his bottle up and drained it. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for all of the time and energy you put into the event.”
