After so much success in just ten years, my innovative muscle had started to atrophy. I carried a fire within since Stanford due to operating in the realm of high risk and higher reward. That fire was suddenly extinguished like the Olympic torch during the closing ceremonies.
I was going to work just to go to work.
The thrill was gone.
The excitement that came with the possibility of acquiring Gillen Tech took me back to the summer of ten years ago. Back then, I’d just dropped out of college months earlier and my parents were freaking out. Meanwhile, I kept landing one win after the next, and I hadn’t lost since. That’s why I was so certain that Gillen Tech was mine. Their five thousand plus employees were even hedging their bets on DOB-Com being the new owner.
Losing that deal sent me into a tailspin. It led to me paying cash for a convertible from a neighbor I hardly knew. I still haven’t even checked the entire Carfax on that fucking thing. My anger and frustration had me packing a bag and driving the untested, untried classic car all the way up to Canada.
The many hours alone on the road allowed me to put a few things into perspective. I decided to focus more efforts on innovated initiatives and revamp some of our existing platforms. There’s always a new frontier to reach. All I had to do was re-channel my thought process, which is what I started to do after meeting with some partners in Vancouver.
Then, I met Quen Waverly on the way home.
During the time I spent with her, I completely neglected my business. My mind was too occupied with getting to know my beautiful hitchhiker. The more I found out about her, the more I wanted to learn. She was such a vibrant ray of sunshine in my dimly lit existence. The thrill I once felt as a new business owner was quadrupled with her.
For the first time ever, I saw a stimulating life outside of my company.
Granted, I tried to fight the feeling as we slowly made our way down to Carmel. True, she was endearing. But I couldn’t forget that she lived in Oregon. I had to remind myself repeatedly that I was simply a means of transportation for her.
Meanwhile, we continued to exist in this bubble that we created. Then, Bobby the Bullshitter stuck a big fat pin in it at the Leer County Strawberry Festival. That’s when I finally woke up and claimed her.
Quen may not be aware of this, but she has been mine ever since. It was my hope to show her that when I flew her out here two weeks ago. I never got the chance. Gillen Tech sashayed back into my life, and I welcomed it as if it were the ex-girlfriend I’d been crying like a bitch over. Before that, the data breach scare was like the mistress blackmailing me with our sex tape. Those two events combined robbed me of the opportunity to show Quen how much I want her.
Since she’s been gone, things haven’t been the same between us. I’ve been busier with work than ever. When I do have the chance to text her, she doesn’t always reply. I’ve also tried calling a few times, but she never picks up.
I began to assume that she landed her dream advertising job, but that thought was short-lived. She would’ve texted me about it if that were the case. That left only one other choice.
Quen has moved on.
I don’t know what came over me, but I started panicking about it the other day. Hell, what did I expect her to do after flying her in and then wasting her time because I had to work?
I will never forget the look of regret on her face as she sat in the living room that Sunday morning, waiting for me to come home. It was confirmation for me that I’m not the man for her. If we were to ever make this official, regret would be a regular occurrence for her.
At the same time, I really don’t want to give her up. I connect with this woman on every level. In my almost thirty-two years of life, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. The very idea of never experiencing the feeling of July again is way more tragic than losing the Gillen Tech bid. In fact, losing Quen is in a whole other stratosphere.
For the first time, I am being forced to face this thing head on. Quen has already endured one heartbreak this year. I don’t want to be the cause of another. Part of me wonders if I’m being pretentious to think that she would shed any tears for me. If I stopped texting and calling her, would she jump in her car and drive nowhere for hours just to forget about me?
Am I worth that to her?
As I stand here looking at my right hand guy, I decide that Quen Waverly is worth much more to me.
“Yeah. I royally fucked things up.”
Sam animatedly blinks, then slowly rises from his seat to stand with me. “Do you have any idea what I’m referring to? I’m not talking about business.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He puffs out a huge sigh in both exhaustion and relief. “Why isn’t that gorgeous girl here with you?”
I can’t help but chuckle “She has a life in Oregon with her widower father. I don’t think she’d ever move here just to see me married to this business.”
“Oh my God,” Sam groans. He’s shaking his head as if he’s speaking to a clueless little kid. “Listen to me, Mr. O-B. Please don’t take offense to what I’m about to say. You know that every single one of us is guilty of tip-toeing around your feelings.”
“I’ve never asked you to do that. I’ve always encouraged you and the rest of my staff to be open and honest with me,” I say in my defense.
“You may say that, but do you actually mean it?” he challenges.
“Look, I’m telling you right now to be open and honest with me without any consequence.”
“Alright. Here’s the truth. For someone who’s such a wealthy and successful businessman, you are a serial micromanager.”
My head jerks back in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes—oh my God!”
I didn’t expect that at all. Actually, this is the first time I’m hearing this. I’m stunned silent as Sam chastises away.
“Four years ago, you stepped down from the role as president. That’s why the gold plate on your door now reads, ‘Drew O’Brien, Founder and CEO’. Donny Forrester is now the President of DOB-Com. You need to let him be exactly that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I bark.
“See!” Sam points an accusatory finger at me. “I knew you wouldn’t hear me out.”
“I’m fucking listening,” I groan.
“Are you?”
Sam is my main guy. However, when he gets this way, I honestly want to strangle him. Still, I love that he’s not afraid to get in my face and tell me like it is, regardless of how I may feel about it afterward. His take-no-shit attitude is why he’s been my go-to for the last five years. I also pay him just enough to keep him working here for as long as I’m in the tech business. He’s just that good at what he does.
“Just say what you need to say,” I challenge.
“Fine. The interface update initiatives for both Lifeography and Pro-NetWork; the only reason Donny came by your place when Lil’ Hot Mama was in town is because he knew you’d lose your shit if he did anything without involving you.”
“Huh?!”
“It’s the reason I called you first after finding out about the Russian hack job. You’re still listed at the top of the call tree, even though I’ve told you many times to push your name further down the list.”