The Fastest Way to Fall(23)

Mason lowered his voice as if this were a private, male-bonding moment. “C’mon, don’t hold out on me. You’re finally getting laid, right?”

“Anyway,” Cord interjected, reading my expression. “Tell us what’s next.”

Mason returned to his tablet, speaking as he scrolled. “It would be nice if we had an inside source at HottrYou.”

Cord huffed out a short laugh. “Kelsey didn’t give anything up when you met with her last month, did she?”

“No.” I looked down at the printouts, colorful charts of market share and cost projections. “Not really.”

I saw Mason’s stare out of the corner of my eye. “Want to elaborate?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Wes. I’m trying to do my job here.” Mason’s ever-present smirk shifted to a frustrated grimace. “Nothing at all we could use?”

“It was personal.”

Cord shot me a curious look across the table. I’d been purposefully vague about the meeting with Kelsey. Cord was my best friend, but Kelsey and I shared something different, even after breaking up. She’d grown up like me, with an emotionally abusive mom and her dad in and out of prison. No matter how badly it had ended between us, she’d been there for me back then. We’d darkly called ourselves the fucked-up families club, and it was members only.

“Fine,” Mason said. He walked us through the data, detailing how the initiatives were playing out in different markets. When he advised we change our font colors, I tuned out of the conversation. Cord was following along, and I knew I should care, but I just didn’t. I jotted down some notes on the legal pad in front of me about ideas for working with the kids. We were running a weeklong training program with them at the end of the summer and then paying some of our coaches to mentor. Through Jake and Naya, we had hired a college student she worked with to help us. Quinn was studying education and was eager to join in. It was all coming together, and we were ready to work with the student leaders within the next couple months.

The screen on my phone flashed, and I grinned before dismissing it. I was sure it was B. No one else messaged me on the app now that the other client I’d taken on had decided not to continue with coaching. I’d gotten used to B’s messages, used to that feeling of letting out a breath when I read them.

We’d been chatting a couple times a day for the last few weeks. It always started with exercise or nutrition, healthy habits and new challenges. It always started with coaching like it was supposed to, but I’d glance at the time stamp and realize we’d spent an hour going back and forth. It was too much, and I needed to check whatever this was that drew me to her, but it was hard, because I was genuinely interested in her love of the Bears and her collection of Stephen King novels she reread all the time even though she’d get scared. I wanted to know more about her.

It gave me a weird, full feeling in my chest when she told me about an accomplishment. It made B happy to meet small milestones, and knowing she was proud of herself reminded me I was doing something that mattered. She was always so appreciative.

Glancing up from my phone, I noticed Mason looking at me expectantly. “Yeah, sure,” I answered, not knowing what he’d asked. He kept talking, and I glanced back at my phone, subtly tapping the screen.


Bmoney34: Today, I saw a squirrel.

WesTheBear: Stop the presses.

Bmoney34: I wasn’t done yet! The squirrel was pawing through a container of salad someone dropped.



“Wes?” Mason’s voice cut into my thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“The content on Best Life, have you been reading it? It’s great press, even with them covering both platforms.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. More and more, I had these reminders I was unqualified to run this company. “Um, no. I haven’t.”

Cord chimed in. “I’ve skimmed bits and pieces. I forget her name, but the woman covering us is funny, and it seems like she’s having a good experience.”

Mason tapped out something on his phone. “I’d like to see how we can capitalize on other opportunities. Check it out, though. I’ve got a meeting across town, but I’m sending you the link now.” Mason gathered his things and answered a call on the way out the door.

My own phone buzzed.


Bmoney34: Reminded me of you.

Bmoney34: He really digs salad.



Cord shifted his gaze to me in his patient, I’m-going-to-wait-for-you-to-talk way.

I schooled my expression. “Sorry. Client.”

Cord nodded absently. “What did Kelsey want? You never said. It really wasn’t about business?”

“She wants to be friends again.”

“Friends or friends?” Cord’s expression said it all. Stop doing things just to make other people happy.

“I know what you’re going to say. So, don’t.”

“Okay,” he said.

“She feels bad about how she ended things.” I paced to the window. “Who knows. Maybe we could be friends.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not like I’m giving her a kidney or something.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Cord sat back in his chair and placed his palms on the table. “Just . . . watch out. I know you want to be distracted right now, but I don’t think that’s the distraction you want.” I glanced at my phone. I knew exactly the distraction I wanted.