CHAPTER ONE
Tess
Tess Walker squirmed in her seat. She didn’t like the view fromthisside of the manager’s desk.
“He said, and I quote, ‘She was real mean and yelled at me.’” Donald Moody—owner of the outdoor supply store Tess had managed for years—sat in her chair, behind her desk. He took off his glasses and stared at her, waiting for an explanation.
“IfI raised my voice, it was because he was still sleeping at ten o’clock.” Tess rubbed her forehead, striving for patience. “It was the last day of camp. Everyone else was packed up and ready to head back. Should I have left him asleep on the mountain?”
Don raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard rumors you make them cry.”
“Not all of ’em,” Tess mumbled in self-defense.
One of Tess’s duties was to lead “Weekend Warrior” campouts. Big-city businessmen—and sometimes women—paid a small fortune to “rough it” for a couple of days in the wilderness. Most who signed up were accustomed to luxury living, and going from a penthouse to a nylon tent wasn’t always an easy adjustment. Sometimes there were tears.
“I know you didn’t come to town just to dress me down over a bad review,” Tess said. “Why are you really here?”
Don lived in Chicago, and though they spoke frequently, he hardly ever made the trek to Green Valley Falls. He owned The Outdoor Outpost, but Tess had been running it for years. Theyhad a tacit agreement—she made him money, and he stayed a thousand miles away.
“Well, you’re right about that.” He laughed, dropping all pretense of caring about the review. “I don’t care about fat cat tears. I’m getting married again,” he announced. “Attorneys are writing up the prenup and thought it’d be a good opportunity to do inventory and maybe streamline some stuff.”
“You know what they say, fourth time’s the charm.” Tess smiled. “Good for you, getting back on that horse.”
He ignored the dig. “You wanna come? I’m sure I can get you an invite.”
Tess waved a hand. “I’ll catch the next one.”
“Touché,” he said, unaffected by the insinuation. “Look, I’ll be honest. I’m downsizing. I’ve put together a portfolio of businesses and plan to sell them off.”
“You’re selling the store?” Tess exclaimed. “Why?”
“I’m getting old, Tess.”
“What? No, you’re not.” He was sixty at most. Hardly old.
“The future Mrs. Moody thought it’d be a good idea to liquidate all the smaller businesses and consolidate into something bigger.”
Tess rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you buy the store in the first place on apriorMrs. Moody’s recommendation?” For a high-powered businessman, he sure made a lot of deals based on the whims of women.
“Hmm. Now that you mention it…” He scratched his head.
“The store is profitable,” Tess said, sensing vulnerability. Maybe a persuasive argument could keep it off the chopping block. “And it’s got to be one of the most hands-off businesses you own. I do all the work!”
“That’s true,” Don conceded. “You’ve done a helluva job actually. Better than I ever could have hoped in such a tiny market. The Weekend Warrior idea was genius.”
“I have other ideas. In fact, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about them. I think we should get into the whole prepper movement. Start selling emergency supplies and hosting classes.”
He held up a hand. “Save it for the next owner.”
Tess was rarely speechless, but this news had come from left field and was as shocking as it was potentially devastating.
What if the new owner wanted to hire their own manager? Or run the place himself? Or worse. “Is there any scenario where the store gets turned into something other than The Outdoor Outpost? What does this mean for my job?”
A chagrined look spread across his face. Clearly, he hadn’t thought of this from Tess’s point of view and was just now realizing the potential consequences for her.
“It’s possible,” he said gently. “But doubtful. You’ve made it so successful, it would be stupid to change the business modelorget rid of you.”
“Is it too late to talk you out of this?” she asked.
