The seed of that horrible emptiness had been planted a week earlier, when he and Penny had broken up. Broken up—had they really? Or had they never even been dating in the first place?
The words didn’t matter, he decided for the hundredth time. They’d meant something to each other, and then she was gone.
Charlie and Archer had found him sitting at his desk that day, two hours after everyone had gone. He’d been staring into space. They demanded answers, and he’d told them everything.
“These financial statements,” Charlie, the company money man, was saying now. “I’m not sure the notations on all the debt are accurate.” Charlie sat across from Michael and his assistant, Steven. “I’d like to see the records behind those numbers so we can check the math ourselves.”
“I agree with that,” said Archer from the opposite end of the table. He spoke loudly, and Drew realized it was because he’d been zoning out again.
It was hard to concentrate on anything, with Penny gone. It was made even harder by the fact that he couldn’t trust anything that had happened. He wanted it to be simple—either all truth, or all lie. But nothing was ever that simple.
Drew hurried to replay the conversation that had just happened back in his head.
Wait. Financial statements?
“Say that again, Charlie?” He leaned back in his chair, trying his best to look interested and not worried.
“Some of Mr. Bower’s numbers aren’t matching up to my estimates,” Charlie said, shooting Drew a quick look. He focused his attention back on Michael. “Do you think you could have the data to us by early next week so we can double-check? Preston Logistics likes to vet things very thoroughly before we make a commitment. I’m sure you understand.”
Michael rubbed a hand over his chin and cast a look at his assistant. Charlie had asked Michael for the papers, but Michael didn’t answer.
Steven did.
“I’m not sure on the timeline,” he said, after a silence that had gone on a beat too long. “We’ll have to get back to you on that. What do you think, Mr. Bower? Friday afternoon, we can get on a conference call?”
“Yes.” Michael nodded, his head bobbing up and down a smidge too quickly. “Friday afternoon. We’ll set it up. We’ll connect with you then.” The two of them stood up and made their way out of the conference room, as if in a hurry to escape further scrutiny.
The brothers sat in silence after the two men had gone down the hall, out of view of the windows in the conference room.
“I can’t be the only one who saw that,” Archer said. “Did you guys see that? The way they looked at each other?”
“It wasn’t encouraging,” agreed Charlie. “You know, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but…why didn’t they come prepared?” He frowned at the windows, eyes narrowed. “Aside from the numbers, I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He cut a glance over at Drew, then back at Archer.
“You can go ahead and say it, Charlie. We’re all thinking it,” Archer said.
“All thinking what?” Drew had witnessed the same thing as the others. If he’d felt unsettled before—and chalked it up to the breakup—now he felt completely ill.
Charlie hesitated.
“That Penny was right,” Archer said, folding his hands on the table. “All signs point to her being right.”
“I—I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” he said now, his entire body suffused with shame.
“Unless you make a move, we’re stuck.” Charlie looked down at the papers in the folder in front of him. “The way I see it; you need to do two things.”
“And what are those?” Drew was tired to his bones, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He felt like he slept at night, but when he woke up in the morning, it was like he’d never put his head on the pillow. And he couldn’t ignore the dull ache behind his breastbone whenever he passed by the suite where Penny had stayed.
“First, apologize to Penny.” Charlie’s words hit him like a brick. “Second, call Jack and ask him for a second chance.”
The shame burned through another layer of his core. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? Because he might say yes?” Archer gave him a skeptical look. “There’s a chance he might say yes. Even you have to admit that.”
“It would be a slim chance.” Because of what I did. Because of how I lied. Because of my own mistakes.
“Any chance is better than no chance. As it stands now, that’s our only option,” insisted Charlie. “Unless you want to start the search for other companies to acquire. Which we can, but it won’t happen this year.”
Drew grit his teeth. “I get it, okay? This is a disaster of my own making.”
“Thank you,” said Archer. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to point it out.”
“You did point it out,” Drew shot back. His spine threatened to collapse until his forehead hit the table.
“Someone’s going to buy Jack’s company,” Charlie said, his tone absolutely calm. “One of our competitors in the region, probably. Is it really worth taking ourselves out of the running because of some weird moral hang-up?”
“It’s not a moral hang-up.” Drew let his head fall back against the chair and put his hands to his forehead. “I’ve obviously screwed this up too deeply to recover from, so we might as well accept that and move on.”
“Bull,” answered Archer. “And you sound pathetic when you get defeatist.”
“I’m being realistic,” insisted Drew.
“Why don’t you just take the shot? Make the call. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll accept that you royally screwed us. If it does work out, I’m willing to pretend this was your own idea.”
Drew picked his head up and stared blankly at Archer. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I like to see at Preston Logistics.” Archer stood up from his seat and beckoned Charlie after him. “Come on, Charles. Let’s give the man the room.”
Drew did not call Jack Holloway from the conference room.
He hated making calls from the conference room. It felt like a televised fishbowl in there, so he retreated to his office and shut the door.
God, he missed Penny.
He missed the way she would have tossed her bag into one of the chairs and rolled up her sleeves. He missed the way she kept looking at a problem until she found a solution. He just missed her.
All day. Every day.
A week after she’d gone, it was still just as painful as the very first minute. More painful, even. With previous relationships, there had been a sense of relief along with the pain. There was no such thing this time, and Drew could very easily see it stretching out into forever.
An acid pain crept up his throat. Seriously? Was that heartburn? He was going to start getting heartburn now?
Drew let himself drop into his desk chair pulled open the center drawer. He kept some emergency antacids somewhere, he was sure of it. He slipped his hand into the recesses of the desk, but instead of a package of Tums, his fingers made contact with paper. A slip of thick, glossy paper.