“Good people deserve good things. And there’s a selfish motive too. If I want my wife and son back, I have to convince them I’m serious about balancing work and family.”
“This is proof of that.” Aaron held up the folder again.
“It’s a start, anyway. Let me know if you have any questions as you review the paperwork.”
“I will.” He rose. “Good luck on the personal front.”
“A visit from Lady Luck would be welcome.” Martin straightened the paperweight on his desk. “I could also use a prayer or two.”
“Done.”
“Thanks. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Guaranteed.” Aaron grinned, tucked the folder under his arm next to the personnel file, and exited the office.
His smile remained in place as he traversed the hall, clattered down the stairs, and strode to the tiny office tucked near the grading line where he did paperwork.
Once inside, he stowed the personnel file but continued to hold the folder from Martin.
What a strange and unexpected turn of events this was. When he’d left the corporate world behind and returned to Hope Harbor to take the supervisor position at the mill, he’d had no ambitions beyond that. The job suited him to aT, a perfect mix of mental and physical work. Best of all, it didn’t dominate his life. Once he was off duty, he was free—barring an occasional emergency.
But a partnership held a lot of appeal. Sharing the duties of running the place with Martin would give them both backup and should allow them to maintain a solid work/life balance. And it would provide him with some new challenges that would keep his work fresh and interesting.
As far as he could see, it was a win-win.
Depending on the terms, obviously. And the price had to be manageable.
He played with the corner of the file.
The temptation to open it and dive in was strong.
But he had a job to do here. When he sat down to review the proposal, it deserved his full and undivided attention.
So he’d wait until tonight, after he put Isabel to bed, to read through it—and hope the offer was as good as it sounded.
He slid the folder into a drawer in his desk and let out a slow breath.
Funny how life worked.
During the last several months of her life, Olivia had become more and more vocal—and critical—in their private moments about his lack of ambition, grousing that he’d never be anything more than a blue-collar mill grunt, as she’d called him, who was letting his brain atrophy.
Yet his so-called grunt job had led to a potential partnership.
She would have been impressed.
Or not.
While she’d found the physical signs of Martin’s success notable—his grand house in particular—any work involving heavy equipment and sawdust lacked prestige in her book. The opportunity his boss had dropped into his lap would likely have produced nothing more than a shrug.
Buthewas happy about it, and that was all that mattered.
He closed the drawer and walked toward the door, his step lighter than it had been in a long while.
And not just because of Martin’s offer. He also had an entire evening with Devyn to look forward to.
Making this one of the best weeks he’d had in years.
Assuming the agreement Martin had drafted was reasonable, and he didn’t make any missteps either literally or figuratively on Friday with Devyn.
