Cole:Do something fun. Get away from the Valley. There is a whole wide wonderful world outside theValley.
Neera:So I'veheard.
Cole:Get out of the office. It will do yougood.
Neera:Says the man who had to be forced onto a luxurysailboat.
Cole:I never appreciated how good it is to get away until I was required to doit.
Cole:Before you say anything, no, leadership retreats in Banff or Sun Valley don't count. Neither does the Appalachian incident. Those were all work. This place is different. It's good forme.
Neera:Thank you for thatclarification.
Cole:It occurs to me that you might enjoy some forced time off. Should I fire you? Would thathelp?
Neera:We've talked about this. It's not acceptable to threaten termination in casualconversation.
Cole:That's right. Mybad.
19
Heeling
v. To be tilted temporarily by the pressure of wind or by an uneven distribution of weight onboard.
Cole
The long summerdays were giving way to later sunrises and earlier sunsets, and the woods behind Owen's house were turning fiery and golden. Autumn was right around the corner, and it dawned on me that I hadn't paused to admire the passing of a season since childhood. These days, I couldn't miss it. Everything about my life—ourlife—in this quiet town was tuned in to the nature's everyturn.
I used to think I knew what I wanted, and I knew where I wanted to be. The brightest, most forward-thinking mind in Silicon Valley. The dominant force in my industry. People hanging on my every word. Big house, fast cars, influential friends. More money than I'd be able to spend in a hundredlifetimes.
Somewhere along the way, the operative features of my life lost theirrelevance.
Being demoted had something to do with it, but losing my way in the North Atlantic and sailing to Owen and the Cove claimed a large share of the responsibility. After six weeks here, I knew it to be true. If I hadn't found myself here, I would've spent a few weeks on the water, raging my way from one seasonal town to another while I cooked up a plan to retake mycompany.
I would've done it. Abandon the boat, fly back to California, storm into the office, and argue the shit right out of my replacement. I would've screamed, thrown things, caused a dreadful scene. And for several precious moments, I would've felt better, too. Vindicated,even.
But that tantrum wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference. It would've only confirmed for my board of directors that they'd made the rightcall.
Now, from the comfort of Owen's guest room, I was thankful for the upheaval I'd experienced this summer. I was no longer resentful of the board's decision to remove me as CEO. With my fingers flying over my keyboard as I blew through line after line of the best code I'd constructed in years, I appreciated their decision. They saw everything I wasn't willing to accept—my inability to care about every little financial indicator, my fraught relationship with strategic decision making, my curious management style—and enacted changes I never would've made on myown.
Most of the time, I was the smartest guy around. I was used to that. It'd always been that way. There was nothing I couldn't accomplish if I worked hard enough, stretched my skills, learned something new. Knowledge was my belief system, and the one that convinced me I could do anything andeverything.
The only trouble with knowledge was that it never stopped to ask if I wanted to doeverything.
I didn't, and recognizing that truth was like taking my first deep breath in decades. My head cleared, my senses sharpened, and my heart pounded with the promise of my man's unyielding affection. This was where I belonged, and I wanted to celebrate that. Get out of the house, go places, see people, let them see me. Seeus.
For all the time we spent joined at the hip, I wasn't convinced the people of Talbott's Cove saw us as a couple. I meant to change thattonight.
I saved my work and yanked the noise-canceling headphones off. I pushed my glasses to the top of my head and stretched my arms out in front ofme.
Once I stowed my gear, I left the bedroom and went in search of Owen. I found him in the kitchen, his hands braced on the countertop while he stood, reading the local newspaper. Instead of standing beside him, I roped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his back, and nuzzled his neck. "Let's go out," Imurmured.
"You're rubbing your dick on my ass and you want to go out?" he asked. "Seems contradictory,McClish."
"I want to go out with you," I insisted, my lips sliding under hisear.
Owen barked out a laugh, the sound reverberating through his body and into mine. "You want to take me on a date?" he asked over hisshoulder.
