Teagan couldn’t imagine what that meant for him. He wasn’t doing any more than the things he’d committed to doing. But he was feeling a lot better for a month in the woods, and he hoped that the long break was all he’d really needed.
“Deal,” Teagan said, standing up. “For now, though, you’re done. And I need the computer.”
Sloane pursed her lips. “Does Darcy know you’re using the computer?”
“Yes. It’s for her.”
Sloane waggled her eyebrows at him. “So you had anice time, huh?”
“Goodnight, Sloane,” he said, pulling her chair away from the computer desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“So you’re actually coming to something?” Sloane asked, stalling, eyebrows raised. “Papermaking? Yoga?”
“Breakfast, at least,” he said. Who knew what Darcy had planned for the next day, but he couldn’t wait to find out.
Sloane finally relented and released custody of the computer. She squeezed Teagan’s shoulder when she passed him on her way out the door though, which was as good as a bear hug for their family’s typical level of demonstration.
Once alone with the computer, Teagan cracked his knuckles and dove into the triple-redundant portal for seasonalpark hiring. He uploaded Darcy’s new resume, entered the exact same information on the resume line by line into the series of radial prompts, and then confirmed the same information on the specific pages for a half dozen positions that might offer Darcy the opportunity to drop some wolf knowledge on the park visitors. It took a couple of hours, but it was before midnight when he finished. Almost two a.m. in New York. Nothing from Rose still when he checked his messages, which was unusual, even for a Saturday night. She was usually more responsive than that. He’d have to check again tomorrow.
The rush of cool air when he left the building was steadying. It reminded him of where he was and where he wasn’t. The camp closed in three weeks. That would get Sloane well past thirty days of sobriety and Teagan as well rested and grounded as it was possible for him to be. People took sabbaticals around his age, didn’t they? He would never have scheduled one in the middle of a fundraising shortfall, but it sounded like Rose was on top of that, at least.
So there were three weeks left with Darcy. He’d never set out to have a short-term romance before—he dated women one at a time, with the idea that itcouldget serious until itdidn’t—but he didn’t see how it could be bad for either of them, so long as he didn’t do anything indiscreet to affect her job. And then she’d be off to her next gig, a better one if he could help it. Maybe she’d send him wolf pictures when he was back in New York. Maybe he’d come back to the park as a visitor this winter, and she’d want to see him.
These were unexpectedly peaceful thoughts as he reached his cabin. The bed was still unmade from tumbling out of it this morning, but someone had come in and left a tray with a smoothie in front of his bed. It was the same thick sludgeof indeterminate color that he’d come to expect, but tonight he’d merited an extra dollop of whipped coconut cream and half a fresh Rainier cherry on top of it. Somehow, he knew Darcy had been responsible for the upgrade, and he grinned.
He sat on the edge of the bed to toe off his sneakers, and his eyes fell on a new pile of paper on top of the dresser. Mail. Rose hadn’t seen fit to give him his emails back, but he’d called his building manager to get his mail forwarded from his condo as soon as he got here. This was the first batch to arrive.
He stripped to his boxer briefs and got ready for bed, took a wincing gulp of the smoothie, and sat back down to sort through the pile. Some men’s health magazines—ha, should have made more time to read those—alumni fundraising appeals, invitations to charity events, junk, junk—one envelope bearing the foundation’s seal, stuffed to over-bursting.
Teagan tore that one open one-handed, metal straw balanced in his lips as he began to read. Mostly monthly financials. Their cash position was getting really bad, but he’d known that before he ended up here. There was also a note on the chairman’s letterhead tossed in loose behind all the printouts. The letter was dated a week previous and penned in Nora’s artistic, looping scrawl.
Dear TVZ—
Haven’t been able to get good intelligence on how long you’re planning to be out. Heard from Rose that U R very ill. So sorry to hear that!!
Asking the Board 2 tee up some asset sales to free cash this fall. Hard assets = art portfolio. Need you back nextweek to discuss, or I’m recommending 2 Board we put Rose in as CEO.
Understand if you can’t make it. Your health comes first!!
XOXOXO, Nora
He recognized an ultimatum when he saw one—come back now or watch Nora liquidate the foundation.
Shit.
Oh shit.
The straw fell out from between his lips to the unfinished pine boards of the floor, where, by the time Teagan found it, the kale and cherry juice had already stained the wood. He’d been too busy packing to notice.
fourteen
Many rushed footsteps downstairs startled Darcy long before she wanted to leave the bedroom she shared with Kristin. She’d been up until nearly two in the morning dealing with the raccoon and then laundering towels, since Rachel hadforgottento do it and several guests were out of fresh linens.
But at just after seven in the morning, Darcy pulled out her earbuds, turned off her favorite geology podcast, and went downstairs to see what the commotion was. It took a few long syrupy seconds to make sense of the scene: Teagan and his sister in Rachel’s glass-walled office with both of the Goederts. Teagan was the only one dressed in street clothes—Sloane was in bird-print pajamas, Dr. Goedert in sweats, and Rachel was wearing an oversized terry-cloth robe over God knew what—but the crowd was arguing vigorously with each other. There was a stack of paperwork on the desk and a pair of suitcases at the entrance to the room.
Oh. Teagan was leaving.
Anger immediately kindled, like a spark on dry wood, because what was he thinking? He couldn’t leave! He couldn’t even admit he had a problem yet! He didn’t have any kind of plan for how he was going to stay sober once he went home. If he was bailing on rehab this impulsively, he was definitely going to fall right back into his old habits as soon as he got home. Darcy went stiff, nearly incandescent with anger, because didn’t he realize this was how people died?
