When she leaves, Alex leans forward. “You okay?” he asks.
I nod and grab the carafe to busy my hands. “Mm-hmm. Just, thoughts.”
His eyes narrow. “What thoughts?”
“Erm. Work stuff.”
Alex looks unconvinced. He grabs the cream and dumps an overwhelming amount into his mug, followed by a heap of sugar. “Let me guess. You’re deciding how to spend your Q3 bonus. Cosmos tea or dried oleander powder? It’s a tough call.”
“The fact that you know oleander can kill you means youdefinitely researched what plants to avoid. And anyway, a bonus? You’re funny.”
He smirks. “Is it my fault we’re not getting them? All those sunk costs you keep complaining about?”
I sigh. “Honestly, I wish that’s all it was, but the financial misses are much bigger.”
Alex frowns. “Really? How bad is it?”
The muscles of my stomach tighten as the truth pulses nightmarishly behind my skull. I feel powerless, knowing the decision to stay independent or sell to another company is out of my hands. But I can’t change our financials, and isn’t that what I always loved about numbers to begin with? They are immutable. They do not lie.
“Casey.” I look up. Alex is watching me, expression thoughtful. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I mean, as long as it wouldn’t get you into trouble, you can tell me.”
But I can’t, Alex, because Tracy asked me to keep it to myself. And before that, she asked me to use you so I could give her a history lesson. And I’m still not sure what one has to do with the other, and I don’t like keeping things from you when I want to tell you every secret I’ve ever known while you rub circles on my wrist, just like you did this morning in bed.
“We’re in some trouble,” I say, knowing that if I flat-out lie, he’ll be able to tell.
Alex blows on his coffee, seemingly unflustered by my admission. “It’ll pass. We just have to wait the launch out,” he says, too confidently.
But there’s no time. Alex doesn’t realize Tracy and the others are making decisionsright now.“How do you know launching one subsidiary company will be enough?” I ask.
“Because you believe it will,” he says, instantly, automatically.
My eyes narrow, but my chest warms. “You’re giving my judgment too much credit.”
“I’m not. You wouldn’t be working so hard on this if you didn’t think it was a smart idea, and I trust your instincts more than just about anyone.”
“You took this job before we’d even met,” I argue.
“So maybe knowing you makes me even more inspired than I was before.”
“‘Inspired’?” I reply. “That’s the word you’re going with?”
“Why not?” Alex asks, leaning back.
“I’m not trying to be self-deprecating. But really, out of all the words my coworkers would use to describe me, ‘inspirational’ is definitely not one of them. ‘Analytical,’ maybe, or even ‘meticulous,’ but definitely not—”
“That’s bullshit.”
I snap my gaze to him in surprise. “What?”
Alex looks back at me, his expression perfectly serious. “Casey, I think you’re inspiring as hell. Do you have any idea what people at work think of you?”
“Um. I mean, I’m pretty sure I come off rude at first. I’m not great with strangers.”
Alex starts to say something but cuts himself off and says, “That’s true, actually, but beside the point. Once people get to know you, anyone with half a brain can tell you’re special. You take raw potential and turn it into something real. You figure out how to make things happen.”
“No,” I argue. “That’s whatyoudo.”
Alex laughs and leans forward. “My follow-through is terrible, and we both know it. I suck at long-term commitment because I get distracted by the next thing.”
