“Are you busy?” Mom asked.
Yes, she was fucking busy. Didn’t she look busy? Nothing made Toni crankier than being hungry, except being tired. She was currently starving and exhausted. Enter at your own risk, lady.
“I could use a little break,” Toni said.
Mom shuffled into the room and closed the door, placing a hand against it and taking a deep breath before turning to face Toni. Mom dropped her shoulders in defeat and lifted a trembling hand to her lips. Toni was too stunned by her mother’s uncharacteristic show of weakness that she couldn’t do anything but gape at her.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this,” she said. “I was downtown talking to my financial advisor.”
Toni scrunched her brow. And Mom was telling her this why? Toni had nothing to do with the business’s finances. That was what accountants were for.
“Is there a problem?”
Mom moved to a chair and collapsed into it. “Some of our big projects didn’t pan out the way we thought they would. Sales didn’t even cover the advances or that huge chunk of money I paid for the rights to publish the book you’re working on.” She shook her head. “I should have negotiated better. I didn’t have that kind of money lying around, so I borrowed most of it and . . .” She shrugged as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the words that came next.
“The business is going under,” Toni said flatly. The reality of it punched her in the gut.
“Not necessarily,” she said. “I still have one ace in the hole.”
“We can put the Exodus End book out early. I’ve been working on it most of the day, and it’s already coming together. I know it will be a best-seller. Exodus End’s fans will be rabid for it.”
“That might get us out of the hole next year, when cash starts flowing in, but that’s not what I was referring to.”
Toni tried to think back to their staff meetings and which books were being released in the coming season. Besides an interactive cookbook that gave video instructions with each recipe, she couldn’t think of any projects that were big enough to cover the million dollars they’d shelled out for the privilege of publishing Exodus End’s biography. “Then what?”
“We’ll have to sell the farm. There’s a developer—”
“No!” Toni shot to her feet, sending her office chair rolling back to collide with the wall behind her. “You absolutely cannot sell Daddy’s farm.”
“I didn’t want to buy it in the first place. That was your father’s dream, not mine. He’s been gone for almost a decade. It’s time we moved on.”
“What about Birdie?” Toni would be saddened if they sold the farm, but her little sister would be lost without the routine and comfort the familiar brought to her life.
“What about her?”
“She doesn’t deal with change, Mom. You know that.”
“That’s because you’ve sheltered her, just as your father sheltered you. Life is cruel and chaotic. The only consistency in life is that things change. There’s no permanence in anything. It’s better that she learns that now.”
“Don’t you want her to be happy?”
“Of course I do. But when’s the last time anyone considered my happiness? I’ve been doing that insane commute for fifteen years because I wanted your father to be happy and then I wanted you to be happy. When do I get my turn?”
“M-maybe I can buy the farm. You can move to the city and have the money from the sale to keep the business afloat, and Birdie and I and Grandma Jo—”
“. . . can live happily ever after? Oh, grow up, Antonia. There are no happily ever afters.”
“There are!”
There had to be. Maybe it wasn’t one event or one person that gave someone happiness for the span of a lifetime, but rather a string of events and people. Maybe she had to work for her happily ever after and find happiness in each day, each moment, but that kind of bliss was possible. She knew it was possible. And something told her keeping the farm was part of her happily ever after.
“I’m selling the farm,” Mom said quietly. “I already contacted an agent. Are you going to tell Birdie or do you want me to do it?”
Toni didn’t want anyone to tell Birdie, because she would find a way to keep the farm. “I’ll tell her,” she said. That might buy her enough time to figure something out so no one would have to break her sister’s fragile heart.
“Thank you,” Mom said with a deep sigh. “She’ll take it better from you.”
Mom stood and headed for the door, and Toni remembered the reason she’d wanted to talk to her mother in the first place.
“I fired Susan,” Toni said.
“Yeah, she told me. I assured her that her job was secure.”
Toni’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. Do you have any idea how she talks to me?” Even if Susan hadn’t been the one who’d stolen her journal—and Toni still felt in her heart that she was involved—the bitch still deserved to be fired for being rude.
“We need her connections now more than ever.”
“What connections?” Toni sputtered. Toni had finally worked up the courage to stand up to Susan and her mother overturns her decision just like that? Why had she even bothered?
“None that concern you. Now go home and get some sleep. You look like hell.”
Like she’d ever be able to sleep with all the crap going on in her life. But she packed up her laptop and storage devices and headed for home. She didn’t want to be in the same building as Susan or her mother at the moment, and she could work remotely. She’d done it for years. And maybe now was the time to take her creative expertise and strike out on her own. Go indie. Like Exodus End was considering.
It didn’t occur to her until she was halfway home that her mother hadn’t been even slightly surprised to see her in the office or even questioned why she’d been so upset with Susan in the first place.
Thirty-Four
Logan rubbed his hair vigorously with a towel. It took forever for his curls to dry, and he had a breakfast date with a very special woman he hadn’t seen in at least a year. He supposed his usual just-rolled-out-of-bed look would have to do. He’d taken the time to shave, at least. Standing naked beside the bed, he searched his limited wardrobe for something to wear. Should he choose jeans and a T-shirt or maybe go with a T-shirt and jeans? He sighed and yanked on a T-shirt that didn’t have pictures of various cats, each depicting a way he liked pussy—wet was his personal favorite. A guitar T-shirt from Max’s Save the Wails charity campaign wasn’t offensive, was it? He wasn’t sure why he cared so much about what he wore. The woman had to know what to expect when she’d shown up at his hotel suite unannounced. Once fully clothed, Logan left the bedroom and paused to stare at the beautiful blonde waiting for him on the sofa. All sorts of emotions bubbled to the surface. He wasn’t sure where to begin in sorting them out. Anger, regret, longing. Love. He couldn’t deny that one.