“Thank God we’ll never find out.” She gives me a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep her in line like always.”
It’s her mom tone that sets me at ease. The same tone I’ve heard her use with her own kids for years.
I chuckle to myself. Destiny’s in for it now.
Katelyn Storm lives up to her name. When she flips into mom mode, nobody gets by with anything.
Somehow, I think the joke’s on me, though.
Destiny was raised by a sailor, and I know I’m the reason she’s got a mouth like one. With my career, my stress, and my flaws, the harshness bleeds out.
I can hardly blame my daughter sometimes for hurling my own caustic words back at me—if only she didn’t do it in a voice that sounds more like my dead wife’s with every passing month.
But if wishes came true, I wouldn’t feel that hard knot in my gut whenever Aster’s face flashes in my mind.
I know I should just count my blessings and shut the hell up.
She’s a great kid—solid grades, harmless friends, no police visits yet. I’ve only got a few more years with her before she’s off to college.
Dess doesn’t know where she’s going to school yet, but I doubt it’ll be anywhere near here. And honestly, I’ll endorse that decision with minimal grumbling.
My baby girl needs distance to work out her life—as long as I’m still a phone call away to bail her out for the times any missteps trip her up.
Hell, maybe distance is what I need, too.
That girl is the glue that’s held my world together for fifteen goddamned years.
She’s the reason I still wake up and stomp into this office.
Once she’s gone, I’ll be staring down a chasm.
If I’m being honest, I need this new spin on old drinks for more than the next quarter’s profits.
Hell, I’m desperate for a new line of beverages. Fresh tricks to refine. Wired Cup has survived generations of market changes for a reason. We’ve always adapted.
We’ve laid down roots in the northwest for good reason. Not just branding and quality, but because my great-grandfather swore he wouldn’t compromise the integrity of our product.
We’re not sitting ducks, waiting to be knocked out by the competition. Though without something new, something bold and electrifying, we’re facing the worst kind of death by boredom.
I won’t let that happen.
Once I’ve had time to catch up on emails for an hour, I head for Kate’s office. I find Destiny sprawled out on the floor, playing with her phone.
She sees me standing in the doorway and smiles up at me. “I threw together three aesthetic music videos this afternoon. You still like Johnny Cash, Dad?”
“Without question, and I suppose that’s a good skill to have.” Then I remember she’s here to shadow and square my shoulders. “Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or at least taking notes about the work everyone else is doing?”
“Eh, yeah, it’s just...” She lays a hand over her face, groaning softly. “Coffee’s so boring.”
“You let her play on her phone ever since we got back?” I look at Kate, who’s hunched over her laptop.
She doesn’t raise her head. “Keep her out of trouble, you said. She’s not knocking over any liquor stores, right?”
I hold in a sigh.
“Have you started tracking down wolverine chick yet?” I ask.
“Honey badger. Get it right,” Destiny mutters.
“What was her name again?” Katelyn asks.
“I don’t remember. Call the store and find out.”
“Huh? I thought you chased us out so you could creep her info.” Destiny’s eyes never leave her screen.
“Regardless, I’d like to run a proper background check before she gets here. We can’t hire a bank robber or Peeping Thomasina, no matter how good her coffee concoctions might be.”
“Yeah, right!” Destiny lowers her phone and gives me a disbelieving look. “Um, stalker-ish much?”
“Yes. Also, I want a proposal ready before she arrives. We can seal the deal and won’t have to worry about her working for any competitors,” I say, brushing off my daughter’s complaints about my methods. “She’s also less likely to stall negotiations if we hit her with a number on the spot. Make it a fair, generous offer. Dess, I’ll show you how we do hiring proposals once Katelyn has her researched.”
My daughter looks like I just pushed a rancid lemon wedge into her mouth.
“Is this what you do all day? Guzzle coffee and spy on people?”
“When you put it that way, I really do deserve a break at home. More decaf and less snark,” I tell her, looking at Kate. “Have HR ready. I’ll sign off on everything, but we’ve got to move fast. I don’t want to risk blowing this.”
“Yeet,” Destiny says.
“What?” I ask.
Kate finally looks up from her laptop over her glasses. “That’s young-speak for cool. My kids say it all the time.”
“Bah, I’m lucky I haven’t heard it before.” I wonder how the copywriters ever keep up with trends in slang.