“Such as?”
“Legacy Resorts should stay luxury. It just also needs to be kid friendly. Parents want to enjoy adult time, knowing their kids are safe. You should take a page from Royalty Airline’s book. Invest in high-end childcare with actual teachers with security cameras, rotating daily activities, and a little curriculum. Parents love when their kids have fun learning. And get the kids involved in the luxury aspect. Mommy and me spa days, Daddy and son mini-golf. Make sure all the restaurants have kid-friendly menus and have family versus adult dining times. You don’t need to exclude anyone from the resorts, just segment out the experiences. The possibilities are endless. Family luxury—that’s the only hook you need.”
“Avery, it’s a great idea. We could really use you. And I got your email about Arrow exclusively consulting for Legacy Resorts and bringing Mason on board, and we’re willing to play ball. Whatever the cost to get you to sign with us.”
I am not a saint. I am not perfect. I am a human being and an opportunity has presented itself. Sue me.
“Hunter, if I’m being honest, Mason is subpar at best. He gets his work done, but honestly a chimp might be more productive. The bottom line is he is replaceable and is absolutely not worth a seven-figure salary. I am the backbone of Arrow Consulting…which is no more. Mason and I are splitting the business and parting ways.”
“Oh, I spoke to him this morning and he didn’t tell me that.”
He doesn’t know…yet. “He was probably trying to be professional. But the bottom line is, I’m no longer available. I am so flattered and appreciative of the opportunity, but I think my heart is in small business, so I’m going to focus my attention there for a while. But I can give you some stellar recommendations, and you have my number. Call anytime and I’ll be happy to bounce around ideas with you.”
“How about another fifty thousand?”
“Hunter—”
“Sixty-k and a company car?”
“Hunter—”
“Seventy-k, a company car, and I turn a blind eye if you use the company black card every now and then. There is literally no limit on that card…you could buy Tahiti.”
I snort. “That’s tempting.” Not really, though.
I don’t want Tahiti. I want pajamas, I want thrift shopping girls’ days with a friend like Lennox. I want a cuddly man who will watch a movie with me…and then bend me over the side of the couch and spank me a little. I just want to laugh, breathe, learn, and relax. I don’t want to work sixty hours a week anymore. It’s not worth the prestige. I just want to enjoy my life and build a family.
“There’s nothing I can do to convince you?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
He grumbles. “All right, well, expect a few follow-up emails from me that will involve a little more begging.”
I laugh. “Fair enough.”
“Thanks for the call, Avery, and for the information about Frank. I’m going to go talk to our CEO and we’re going to take out the trash.”
“Good. I recently did the same. Feels good.”
“Take care. Get home safe.”
Home. “I will.”
I thought my anger and angst would fuel me through the drive, but I couldn’t swing it. I had to stop at a hotel and sleep a bit before I drove myself right off the road. Let the record show, Red Bulls are good for nothing except their tastiness.
When I pull into Dex’s driveway the next morning, I see the fish guy’s van parked on the side of the road. Great. I just want to go to sleep. I have a crying hangover. My eyes are puffy, my head hurts, my back aches from this long drive. I’m not an idiot. I don’t care how angry I am at Palmer. I just lost the longest, most significant relationship of my life.
Friendships don’t have to end. They aren’t exclusive. I was always taught to keep the old and make the new. The dynamics can change. You can go from talking daily to yearly. Sometimes friends can drift apart and then snap back together. They need each other in different ways at different stages of their lives. Love doesn’t have to fade due to distance. Friendships can endure…
Unless someone sabotages the relationship.
Palmer could’ve prevented this. She could’ve kept it in her pants. She could’ve talked to me. She could’ve found a way to love me, almost as much as she loved herself. But she didn’t. And it’s going to hurt for a very long time.
I’m going to heal…
But first, it’s going to hurt. And that’s okay.
Leaving my bag in the car and only bringing in my purse, I trudge through the front door. I have no energy to immediately unpack like I normally do. “Hey, Fish Guy,” I call out.
“Hey, Fish Lady,” he calls back with a chuckle at our little inside joke. All kidding aside, I don’t know his real name. It’s been over two months…I can’t ask now. It’s too awkward.
I see my phone sitting on the kitchen counter next to a sealed white box with a note on top:
You’re beautiful. You’re worthy.
-Finn
P.S. I promise I didn’t look.
Not right now. I want to look, but I’m a little too fragile at the moment. I can’t take any more hits right now in case I don’t like what my boudoir photographs look like. It’s not until I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and head to my phone do I see the travesty in the sink.
Cherry…
Out of water, dead in a small dish.
I squeal in shock as I drop my bottle of water.
“What the fuck?” I squelch. My reaction causes the fish guy to stop tinkering with the living room tank and head in my direction. He dodges the spilled water with his sock-covered feet and scoops up the water bottle from the ground. “When did she die?”
I know she’s a fish…
But damn.
My head starts to pound as I hold back a fresh wave of tears that hits me. Goddammit. Treachery and tragedy are just fucking exhausting.
“I found her belly up when I got here an hour ago. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left her in the sink. I didn’t know you’d be here. But I don’t flush fish, it’s not good for plumbing or the ecosystem.”
“What’re you going to do with her?” I’m not going to be a child and suggest we have a service and proper burial…but if he offers, I will go put on a black T-shirt right now.
He raises his brows at me. “Chum.”
“Oh, God.” I pout. “Please don’t tell me that. I really liked this little fish.”
“You’re a fan of Cherry Barbs, huh?”
“Yeah, she used to be super spazzy, but she slowed down. The stripe along her belly, I’m assuming it was cancer. I just hope she went peacefully.”
Fish Guy bags Cherry and the dish up and sets her by his black supply bag with the blue stripe, which matches his uniform. “It’s not cancer. Some Cherry Barbs have those markings. They can even get translucent.”
“She didn’t have a stripe when I first got here,” I say. “It developed as she slowed down. I’m pretty sure she was sick.”
“What?” He looks at me like I’m crazy as he runs his hands through his curly hair. “No, it died because these are social fish. I keep telling Dex he needs to either get a separate tank or move some of these fish to make room for multiple Cherry Barbs because they like to live in clusters of their own. I’ve gone through three since you’ve been here. They are dying because of shock and isolation.”