Soon enough, Topher was fighting to keep his eyes open. I set him up on the couch with blankets and pillows before I went down to turn off the pizza oven, put my bat away, and check all the doors.
My phone sat there glowing on my desk with a message from Winnie.
Winnie Baker:Made it back to LA. I’m staying with my parents and I’m seeing my doctor tomorrow. Will update you after.
I wanted to write back and tell her I loved her and I loved our baby and I wanted to get on a flight to LA to be right there with her. But that wasn’t what she needed from me right now.
Me:Good. I’m back home in KC. Let me know how things go tomorrow. I’m glad you and the baby are okay.
The next day, I stared at my open laptop, hardly daring to believe my luck.
Dear Mr.Lieberman,
I hope this email finds you well.
This correspondence is long overdue, but my client and I appreciate your patience while we reassessed our business plan. While my client was disappointed that you were unable to join him on the set ofShark Tank, he appreciates your apology and has ultimately come to the conclusion that this new plan is much more appealing and exciting for both parties.
Please see the attachment below for our official proposal.
Best,
Ian Ker
One hundred new franchise locations over the course of two years with me opening each of them in person. They’d help me get set up with a tell-all book deal. Slice, Slice, Baby merch. A whole pizza empire. But it would cost me fifty-one percent of my business. The business I started with what little INK money I had left. The business I turned into four busy locations that had earned me recognition as a trusted business owner. A Kansas City establishment. Something my parents were truly proud of. A business that was successful enough that I could buy Winnie a McMansion in the suburbs and send my nephew to whatever school or training it would take to make his dreams come true without being indebted to the federal government or his stepdad.
But the business forecasts in this proposal... Holy shit. Even if they were only half right, I could buy Winnie an island. I could give our kid every opportunity in the world. I could buy my parents their dream house. Two of them, even.
But it would cost me more than fifty-one percent or control of the company. It would cost me the first two—probably three—years of my child’s life. But Winnie would never have to worry about leaning on her parents or doing projects she didn’t fully love.
I sat there at my desk, memorizing every page of this pdf and dreaming about the life it could give me and everyone I loved.
Topher pounded down the steps, turning the corner into my office, his hair still wet from the shower and his whole body vibrating with now-or-never energy. “She’s here.”
The prep staff wouldn’t be here for another hour and a half, but if we couldn’t hash all this out in an hour and a half, our problems were bigger than time.
Tamara parked on the street and read the parking sign for a whole three minutes before coming in.
She gave us each a hug and an air kiss, which meant she was pissed. If we were in her good graces, we’d have both gotten actual kisses. But that was fine. We both deserved that. When I was back home after the fire, I’d been so wrapped up in insurance and inspections and investor drama that she and I never got to have the talk I’d promised her, so my sister was owed.
Tamara and Topher sat on either side of a booth, so I pulled up a chair to sit at the end.
“I fired Topher,” I told her before her son could dig this hole any deeper.
She eyed me, and then him. “That’s probably for the best.”
Topher nodded like he knew he deserved that. “And I lied about the spring semester. It wasn’t Uncle Kallum’s idea. It was mine.”
My sister looked at me, and I saw all the things racing through her head.Why would he lie? Why would Kallum go along with it? Do I even know my son? Or my brother for that matter?
She took a deep breath and the hard lines etched into her expression began to soften. “Start from the beginning.”
I nodded to Topher and he took a sip from one of my coffee mugs. (It was full of root beer from the soda fountain.) And then he began to talk. He told us both how claustrophobic school had felt for him and how he felt aimless and like there was something out there for him, but he felt tethered to traditional education... and this city. That was a tough pill for Tamara to swallow. I’d seen the same expression on my mom’s face when I left for LA for the first time. It was wonder and fearat the sight of your child finally realizing just how wide the world really was.
I told Tamara about my offer to help Topher find the thing that makes him tick. Her lip trembled, and that was enough to get me and Topher crying like babies because Lieberman men are fucking feelers. Dad might come off as chill and stoic, but you could turn onSeabiscuitand watch that man turn into a blubbering toddler.
As the prep staff trickled in, Reuben, my location manager, came over. “I’m short a worker today,” he said. “We should be fine, but we have a big lunch order from that ad firm down the street, so I think I’ll have to turn off online ordering until we get their pies out the door.”
Topher looked at me and then Tamara, who gave a soft nod.
