“Where are you going?” I ask, concerned. He’s been complaining too much about having cabin fever and what if this is it? The moment he says, “Fuck it I’m going back home.”
“The bar’s reopening,” he states. “I’m having an unplugged presentation to help them celebrate. G is playing too.”
“I’m not,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Unless you get me a cello, I refuse to play anything else.”
He grins, but before he can say anything, Hayes asks, “When did the bar close?”
“Technically it hasn’t closed. It’s just under new management,” Beacon says. “It’d be nice if you could come by and show some support.”
I turn to look at Hayes who nods slightly. Then I say, “We’ll be there. Is nine okay?”
Beacon grins. “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”
“If you want to leave Arden with us,” Emilio tells Mills, “we can set the railing up on the bed we have in the guest bedroom.”
Mills freezes.
“My parents have seven grandchildren, and he’s already shown you that he’s great at babysitting,” Sophia offers, pulling Arden out of his highchair. “You want to stay with Grandpa Milo?”
“Pa Milo,” Arden says wiggling his legs.
A flash of her carrying our own kid during a family gathering makes my heart swell. Every day that passes I wonder if I’ll ever go back to New York. This is what I want for the rest of my life. Sophia, our children, and the family we’re building—with my brothers.
Henry
Sophia is brilliant. There’s never been a doubt about it. When she sent me her plan on how to alleviate the tension at Merkel and how I could still be present without leaving Oregon, I agreed to it right away. So now, we are looking into buying a building to relocate Merkel’s corporate offices.
After researching online, hiring a commercial realtor, and deciding on a budget, we came to Portland to look at the units we’ve liked so far. Most of them are located in mid-southeast Portland. The one we’re visiting is the seventh building we’ve seen since we had lunch a few hours ago.
“How much is it?” I ask the realtor when we are done looking at the top floor where I plan on setting my office. We’ve walked through every corner of this facility, and so far I think this is the best place she has shown us.
“Its original price was one point five. There’s another down—”
“Is this one for rent or for sale,” I interrupt the realtor.
“For sale,” she answers.
“Soph, what do you think?”
“The cost is less than I had projected,” she says. “We could fit several departments or move the entire company and just leave a few key employees in Manhattan. You could rent out the empty office space we’re leaving behind in the New York building to other companies. It’s prime real estate space. We could recover the investment within five years or less.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” I agree with her and look at the realtor. “We’re ready to make an offer.”
The realtor sighs with relief and heads toward the elevator. She thought we were joking when we said we’d be looking all day long until we found just the right place.
“She’s done with us,” Sophia whispers. “Well, with you. Not everyone can put up with you for more than two hours, and it’s been almost eight.”
We started our search for the perfect building right after Sophia and I dropped her parents off at the airport. They are going back to New York for at least a month. It was sad to see them go, but they promised to come back. Natalia made several new friends, and she doesn’t want to miss the upcoming festivals. She’s also worried about leaving Sophia behind. After all, she’s the baby of the family.
“What are you thinking?” I ask Sophia as we climb down the stairs.
“Once we decide which departments will be relocating into Portland, we have to create a program along with a substantial package that includes moving expenses and incentives. It’s going to be difficult.”
“We won’t have to make many difficult choices if we just move the entire company,” I say.
She’s right. It won’t be an easy transition. We’ve been making a lot of changes already, but I have to think about everyone. Most of all, about my family. They live on this side of the country, and I can’t see myself living away from them. Not anymore.
We understand that not all of them are going to want to uproot their lives and their families. Those will have a severance package, and then we will be opening the positions for the locals.
“What happened to the previous owners?” Sophia asks as we head toward the door where the realtor is waiting for us.
“It is owned by a company that planned on relocating from Los Angeles. They bought the land, built it to their specifications. A couple of months before they moved, there were some problems and they chose to stay put in California.”
“Well, that’s a drastic decision,” I state, surprised that someone would just walk away from a place with state-of-the-art installations and located in one of the hottest spots in Portland.
“It’s as if someone made it for you,” Sophia says as we make our way to the car, then she tells our realtor, “We’ll see you at your office.”
“Are you sure this is it?” I ask her. “Price isn’t an object.”
She goes on and on how this is the perfect building until we arrive at the realtor’s office where I sign the offer to acquire the unit. Sophia asks her for the number of a realtor that can help us relocate our employees since she’s a commercial agent. Once we have everything, we drive back to Baker’s Creek.
“I feel accomplished,” she says as I park the car in her garage. It’s around six, and we still have to make a few calls before we are done for the day.
“Thank fuck it’s Friday and we don’t have work tomorrow.”
Sophia looks at me funny and then smiles. “Seriously, did you get a lobotomy? Or someone abducted you and placed the wrong man back into this body?”
I wink at her and she laughs.
“When I get my own car, you’re going to have to relocate your babies somewhere else.”
Since Beacon is taking it upon him to try everyone’s cars, I’ve decided to hide mine at Sophia and her parents’ houses. At least the Bugatti, the Mercedes, and the Koenigsegg. I don’t tell her that. She’s been taking the Mercedes with her all week, and it took me an entire night to convince her to accept driving the car.
She’s afraid that if she scratches it, I’m going to go off and she doesn’t want to fight over something as stupid as a car.
As I told her, it’s just a fucking car and if something happens to it there’s insurance to cover it. As long as she’s fine and safe, I don’t care about the vehicle.
“Marco just texted to let me know my parents are at home,” she says, showing me her phone. “They are gushing about the town and my friends.”
She looks at the phone with a sad smile.
“They’ll be back,” I reassure her as we make our way to my new office which is conveniently located in her house. “Talking about family, let’s get this over with.”