Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
But she still had to understand the situation she was in. Whether she liked it or not, I owned a controlling stake in the company. She could go to the courts all she wanted, but the most she would get would be a temporary injunction. Everything we did in the purchase, while unkind to her, was one hundred percent legal.
In a perfect world, today would have gone differently. I would have come in, and we would have had a frank and productive discussion, much like I’d had with investments I made in the past.
Unfortunately for me, Melanie hated my guts. And while I could see why and didn’t really blame her that much, I had to do what was best for me and my investment. That meant deciding not to care that she hated me. I put a major investment of what cash I had into buying the majority stake of this company and setting aside money for expansion, development, and restructuring including remodeling. I wasn’t going to pull any of that money back just because Melanie was directing her anger at me. At the end of the day, it was my choice to do what I wanted, and as a minority owner, all she could do was complain.
“Sir?” a voice said as I sat on the desk and went through the phone, trying to pull up Chuck’s number so I could tell him how this all had gone.
“Yes?”
“Umm, I was going to have Melanie help me, but there is a minor issue with a customer,” she said. “He wants to speak to a manager.”
“Aren’t you a manager?” I asked.
“He said ‘a real manager,’” she said, using air quotes. Over her shoulder, I could see the man in question. He was older, a beer belly falling over top of a visible and very large belt buckle. A ten-gallon hat sat on top of his white-haired head, and his face was crumpled up like he’d just tasted a bitter beer.
“Ah,” I said. “Well, here goes nothing, I guess.”
It was an hour later before I finally got out of the store. The angry cowboy was only appeased when I authorized Amy to discount all of his cans because they were ‘dented’ and then walked his groceries out to his car for him. In my suit.
When I got in the car to head home, I had a new appreciation for the people who had to put up with that every day, including Melanie. It wasn’t fun. And it wasn’t easy.
I got in the car and put the phone on the dock, not remembering that I had planned on calling Chuck until I was halfway down the road. I reached for the phone at a stoplight to pull up his number when a text message came in. I clicked it and sighed.
“Shit,” I said.
Movers will be at the address you forwarded at five. I have loaded up all the furniture I didn’t want and sent it to you. You can decide what to do with it. Also, you left that godawful eyesore of a recliner in the basement. It’s on the truck too.
The text was from Sarah, and it had all the warmth and love of a fish on ice. Just like everything she did these days. Oh well. At least I’d gotten the recliner that I had intentionally put in the basement so it would be hard to lug out into the yard and burn. I didn’t have room in the trailer for it, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her destroying it either.
She would have probably taken pictures. And then sent them to me.
She had no clue that I moved into an apartment furnished circa 1988. As far as she knew, I was crashing on the sleeping bag that I took camping all the time and sitting cross-legged in the center of a bare living room floor.
Now I had to figure out how to either fit the furniture into the rental or pay the movers to move all the old stuff to the storage shed along with moving my stuff in. I’d signed a year lease and planned on checking in on the kids at my parents’ house during the year. Maybe if I pestered them and offered above value for it, I could buy it back. Then I could fit all the furniture I wanted inside.
I got to the house and went inside, thankful that I at least had stopped to get a bunch of fresh towels and toiletries. I had showered before heading to the Brewer’s Grocery, but I felt like I needed to wash the bad juju away immediately. I went inside, ran the shower, and rinsed off, changing into jeans and a T-shirt when I got out, so I at least felt like a normal person again.
The movers showed up about a half an hour later, and by then I had already taken the initiative and moved some of the furniture to the storage shed. As the truck opened up and I peered inside, I realized I was going to have a lot more work to do.