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I exhale a long sigh, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass, as I wonder where to start. Maybe not with the handsome, yet flustering stranger at the dojo? Leave the best for last, isn’t that what they say?
I decide to start with something a little less thrilling, letting out a long sigh while I can already feel my pulse accelerating just thinking about the last conversation I had with my uncle.
“My uncle just won’t let it go. He’s still insisting on selling. The company my father built from the ground up and then entrusted to me. Apparently, this all means nothing to Walter. I’ve tried to reason with him for weeks, but now he informed me that we have a potential buyer, and we’re supposed to meet him next week,” I gush. “I said no, of course. I’m not talking to any buyer, ever. Why can’t he take me seriously? None of them ever do. I feel like I’m tilting at windmills, and I’m just so… exhausted by all of this.”
Max looks at me with a concerned expression on his face and places a consoling hand on my shoulder. “Is there really nothing you can do to stop this?”
“Walter has the same amount of shares as me. 37.5 percent, to be precise. Dad wanted us to hold a majority between us, so no major decisions could be made by Mr. Wahlon, who holds the remaining 25 percent,” I reply. “He thought my uncle and I would always see eye to eye. He never wanted for us to argue.”
I feel my voice breaking and pause to have another sip of my drink. The warmth of the alcohol soothes me a little, but it fails to mute the angry turmoil inside my head. And it does even less to help with the sting of pain that still aches inside me every time I think about my father. It has been almost a year since he succumbed to cancer and followed my mother into the grave. I never really got to know her, because she died when I was still an infant, so I never grieved her death the way I grief his.
We all knew it was coming for a long time, and Dad spent his last living months preparing me to fill the role as his successor. He was the only man in that harsh business environment who never belittled me. The only man who took me seriously, who talked to me like a peer and not like a little girl who was visiting her daddy on ‘bring your daughter to work day’. I never lost my temper with him, because he never gave me a reason to.
He would hate what my uncle is trying to do right now, and he clearly didn’t see it coming.
Max’s hand lands on mine, offering a reassuring squeeze. “This fucking sucks, I’m so sorry,” he says in a low voice. “But nothing is set in stone, right? And it’s not like he can do anything without you being on board. You are the CEO, after all.”
“He might, if he convinces the other investor to go along with it,” I say. “But from what I gather, this is supposed to be an all-or-nothing deal. So, yes, they do need to convince me.”
“Which they never will!” Max declares. “You got this, Madison. Your father knew you would, that’s why he appointed you the CEO, and not your uncle.”
I scoff. “Maybe that was just because he knew that my uncle was ready to retire soon anyway… I mean, I’m just—”
“Don’t,” Max interjects, pointing at me with his index finger. “Don’t you dare to downplay your own worth, Miss Hailey. Don’t listen to the assholes out there. You are a badass business bitch, who knows her shit. MBA from an excellent school, years of experience, brains, determination, coura—”
“Max, please,” I cut him off, chuckling as I place my hand on his shoulder. “Okay, okay, I get it.”
I know he’s right and I should listen to him.
“What do we always say?” Max implores.
I sigh. “Never let them dim your fire.”
“Never let them dim your fucking fire!” he repeats. “Damn straight. Can’t believe I’m the one who has to remind you of that.”
We share a laugh, and I smile at him as Max brings his almost empty drink up to his lips. Years ago, I was the one who came up with that saying, when I encouraged him to live his truth. A truth that entails earrings, and make-up, and dresses, and heels, if that’s what he’s into that week.
Today, at first glance he looks almost boringly normal, dressed up in a black shirt and black pants, black shoes, black everything. His subdued attire allows for the golden glitter above his eyelids to shine even brighter, standing out against his raven hair and brows. This is a rather nice bar, so I fixed myself up as well, wearing a silk blouse in coral and a black mini skirt with matching heels. But I still feel bland and boring next to Max. I always do.
“You know what you need, right? To relax and chill. Stressing about it won’t solve anything,” he says, as he catches the bartender’s attention to order another round for us.
I roll my eyes playfully, the corners of my lips twitching upward. “Yes, Dr. Max. I’ve been trying. I thought a little exercise would help, but…”
An exasperated sigh leaves my lips as I think about yesterday’s encounter on the mat. That guy, Chase, has been occupying what little space is left in my head far more than I’m willing to admit.
“Buuut…?” Max probes.
“Ugh, it’s… this guy—”
“A guy!” he erupts, almost falling off of his barstool. “We have been sitting here for almost an hour and only now you mention that there’s a guy?”
We’re shortly interrupted when the bartender exchanges our empty glasses for two new martinis, but I can feel Max’s eyes on me the entire time, anxiously waiting for me to elaborate.
“It’s nothing like that!” I insist as we clink glasses anew. Even I know I’m lying, as I go on. “His name is Chase. He’s new at the dojo. Tall, ridiculously good-looking—but that’s not the point—arrogant, incredibly condescending. You know, the kind of guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to the world or something.”
The smile on Max’s face widens with every sentence I speak, and I know why. He can read me like a book.
“I submitted him!” I hurry to announce. “We were paired up to roll, and he’s all ‘Oh, I’m gonna go easy on you, little weak girl’, you know, thinking I wouldn’t stand a chance against him. It didn’t even occur to him that I may be better than him, that I am in fact two whole belts above him.”
