Kelly Jamieson - Crazy Ever After

“Oh. And you think you would.”

“Yes. I think I could. I know more about the business than most people. Dad taught me a lot. I’ve taught myself a lot. I know Dad wanted me to work my way up. And maybe...” She hesitated. This was a bit of a leap, considering they’d never talked about that far into the future. “I think he wanted me to take over the company from him some day. When he retired.”

Mom smiled. “I doubt he’d ever have retired, but I have no doubt he wanted you involved in the company. Along with Travis.”

Samara’s eyes widened. “With Travis?” She shook her head. “But Dad was the CEO.” Travis’s protests about equal partnership echoed in her ears.

Mom shook her head. “You do know a lot about the business, Sam, but there’s still a lot to learn. Your father and Travis hold equal shares in the company, forty per cent each.”

Oh. She’d never thought about the actual shares in the company. “Who has the rest?”

Her mother smiled again. “I do.”

Samara’s eyes shot open. “You do?”

“Well, ten percent. The other ten percent is divided among some of the other executives. Alex has some. So does Hank.”

Samara slumped into her seat again. Hell. How could she not have known they were equal partners? She hated feeling so stupid. Heat burned inside her, and she stared glumly at the table.

As a kid, she’d known her father and Travis had worked together closely. Travis had started working as a barista for Cedar Mill in high school and then full time after he’d dropped out of college. She’d made that unfair crack about his lack of education, implying he wasn’t smart enough for college, but that was far from the case. He was so smart. She didn’t know exactly why he’d quit college, but she’d always suspected it was because of financial issues. She knew he had no family and had grown up with very little but didn’t know much more than that.

“Your father and Travis were partners as well as friends,” her mother reminded her.

Samara sat up straight, folded her arms across her chest, and regarded her mother. Yeah, Travis had often joined them in their home for family dinners and holidays since he had no family in Portland. Her father had been like a mentor to Travis, teaching him the business, guiding him, treating him almost like a son.

“But Dad was the one who started the company.”

“Yes. But when they became partners, Parker needed Travis as much as Travis needed him. Travis had already made quite a name for himself in the business.” When Travis had worked as a barista, Cedar Mill had consisted of a few coffee shops in Portland. He’d started winning awards in barista competitions and had acquired a reputation as someone who really knew coffee, and it was largely due to him that Cedar Mill had increased sales substantially, mostly through word of mouth. He’d worked his way up to head barista then had taken over training all the new hires. After a few years, he’d quit his job at Cedar Mill to start his own business, importing and roasting coffee beans, finding new kinds of beans, selling them to some of the coffee shops in Portland, including Cedar Mill.

“When Parker proposed they join forces, it was as equal partners,” Mom continued.

Dad had been interested in moving to selling only fair trade coffees. Although other coffee shops at that time offered some choices of fair trade coffees, he was passionate about helping coffee growers and convinced he could expand and make a profit selling only coffees that were fairly traded. He’d also seen a future for organic coffees, although demand for those was very low at that time, and Travis had already built a strong business importing Fair Trade coffees.

Although Travis was twenty years younger, the two men had shared a similar passion for coffee and vision for expanding the company, particularly for increasing the demand for fair trade coffees by partnering with other businesses such as supermarkets, book stores, and airlines.

As Samara’s career at Cedar Mill grew into management roles, she was aware that Travis was highly powerful in the company, but still, since her father carried the title of CEO, she’d always assumed he was the leader. She nibbled her bottom lip.

“Anyway, you can’t go to the office,” her mother was saying. Samara focused on her. “We’re going to the funeral home today.”

Her stomach clenched at the reminder of that. She did not want to plan this funeral. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. It was more of a feeling that planning the funeral meant it was really true―Dad was dead. It just seemed so...final. She looked at her mom gazing anxiously at her, and sighed inwardly. She had to help her. It couldn’t be that complicated, but she couldn’t leave her mother to deal with it on her own.

* * *

A few hours later, Samara’s head was spinning. There were so many decisions to make that she’d never anticipated. Music, flowers, prayers, pallbearers, obituary... Good lord, how were they supposed to write her father’s obituary? She felt like she was operating in a dazed fog, and yet, her mother seemed incapable of making decisions, so she had to choose all these things. What kind of flowers would her father have wanted? She had no clue.

Samara was usually completely confident in her decision making, taking charge of stores, and now even an entire division, and running them effectively, but when it came to these decisions, she felt lost and uncertain. The grief was bad enough, never mind having to deal with all this. Perhaps that was the reason funerals existed—to keep grieving family members so busy they didn’t have time to think about their loss.

Her friend Gia was very understanding. It still seemed funny that she’d chosen this occupation. Gia’d been a cheerleader in high school, with shiny blonde curls and a big smile, bouncing around with pompoms. Now she wore a tailored gray suit and her hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her smile had become more subdued but she had a gentle, sympathetic manner that made the ordeal much easier. She was very flexible, willing to go along with whatever they wanted.

“How long will you be in Portland?” Gia asked. “We have to get together. Maybe with Liz and Bailey.”

“I’m not sure,” Samara said. “I don’t think I’ll be staying long. Just for the funeral.” She felt a pang of wistfulness and regret for the friendships she’d let lapse when she’d run away all those years ago. She really hadn’t made any good friends in San Francisco. She’d been too busy working, going to school, and now building her career at Cedar Mill.

“Well, if you have time, you know where to get hold of me. I know Liz and Bailey would love to see you.” She tipped her head to one side. “And so would I. You just disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Hey, we talk on Facebook.”

“It’s not the same as seeing you. You look great, by the way. San Francisco must be fun.”

“Yeah, I like it there.”

“Any man in your life?”

“Um...no. Not right now.”

Gia nodded. “That’s okay. Brent and I got married way too young.” She grinned that beaming smile from high school and shrugged. “But it seems to be working out okay so far.” She hugged Samara. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

When they got home, Travis wasn’t there, but it was too late for Samara to go to the office. Samara went into her bedroom and lay down on the bed. She was so tired she couldn’t even see straight. Weariness and sadness sapped the last bit of energy from her body. She would need all her energy to deal with Travis.

* * *

Travis rubbed the back of his neck as he walked into Parker and Dayna’s home. He wasn’t sure if staying there was such a great plan. Unbelievably, the attraction he still felt for Samara still sizzled between them, although she made no attempt to hide her contempt for him. Their conversation that morning still replayed through his mind. Surely to god Parker hadn’t told her about what had happened and why he’d moved to L.A.? They’d all tried to put it behind them and forget about it, but Samara had sounded like she somehow knew what had happened.

He still believed Parker would have wanted him to look after his two girls, despite the promise he’d made to Parker all those years ago that he would never touch his daughter. He’d just have to be more...like an uncle to Samara. Keep his distance. He’d go stay in a hotel if it weren’t for the fact that he felt leaving her and Dayna alone might be even more risky.

He walked into the den, knowing that’s where Dayna spent most of her time. She sat on the couch, sipping a drink, staring into space.

“Travis,” she said, rising. “I’m just having a drink. Would you like one?” Her face drawn with fatigue, she gave him a tiny smile.

“What is that?” He eyed the glass in her hand.

“Sherry.”

“Uh, no thanks. Don’t suppose you have a beer?”

The corners of her mouth tipped up. “We might have some.” She opened the small refrigerator behind the bar. “You’re in luck.” She handed him the cold bottle of pale ale. “Would you like a glass?”

He shook his head, popped the cap and drank thirstily. “Thanks.”

“How was your day? How are things at the office?”

“Nuts.” He dropped down onto the leather sofa. “Everyone is totally freaked out. Nobody knows what to do.”

“I’m sure you took charge.”

He met her eyes and gave a small smile. “Yeah. I did.”

She smiled back. “Parker would have approved.”

He sighed. “I’m not so sure.”

Her brows dipped, and the corners of her mouth tipped down. “Travis. Things were better between the two of you recently.”

Travis looked down at the bottle in his hand. “Yeah. He was getting over it.”

She sat down on the sofa beside him. “Was there more to it than...?” She stopped.

Hell. There was no way he could tell Dayna what else had happened. It was bad enough that it had almost cost him Parker’s friendship, their business partnership, and the only family he’d ever really known. “No,” he lied, dropping his eyes. “That was enough.”

For the first time he wondered how he was going to move forward with the company without Parker there. Notwithstanding his firm statements to Samara about his and Parker’s partnership, the truth was they’d each had their own strengths and relied on each other for many facets of the business

He felt a glimmer of the same uncertainty that had gripped many of the people who worked for them. Would the company survive the loss of their charismatic CEO? Would they all lose their jobs? Who was going to take over for Parker?

He knew damn well who he wanted it to be.

“How about your day?” he asked, shifting gears. She was the one planning a damn funeral.

Dayna sighed. “It was hard. So much to think about.”

“How’s Samara?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Oh. I don’t know.” Dayna rubbed one eyebrow with an index finger. “I appreciated her help today. I felt so...lost. I was glad to have her there. But even though she tries to be so tough and together on the outside, I can see she’s...” She paused. “She’s really hurting.”

Hell. He’d been so pissed off at her earlier. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, and he really should be better able to deal with that. But Dayna was probably right. Samara was hurting as much as the rest of them, despite the tough girl act she put on.

“Dayna?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know why Parker was in Matagalpa?”

A small furrow appeared between her brows. “No. He didn’t really discuss that with me. Why?”

“I’m kind of worried...we haven’t done business in Matagalpa in years.”

She turned her head to one side and gave him a sidelong look. “Worried about...what?”

“You know.”

She gazed back at hm. “Oh, Travis.”

“We don’t know what happened to him! It could’ve been an accident, but I’m worried he was mixed up in something....dangerous.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “But...”

At that moment, Samara appeared in the French doors. Despite the fatigue bracketing her mouth and the sadness darkening her eyes, she was still so damn beautiful, with her long flame-colored hair behind her shoulders. She wore another sundress, this one lime green with tiny straps and a big bow tied around her narrow waist. She wore lime green flip-flops with yellow and white daisies on them. Silly shoes, but her feet were so pretty in them, her little toenails painted a vivid tangerine. Hell, once again, he’d been checking her out from head to toe. He dragged his gaze away from her.