Rich and Bossy (Rich Boys)

32. Paxton

CHAPTER 32

Paxton

Someone is about to fucking die.

I ignore the first two rings of my doorbell, and they start pressing it rapid fire like a goddamn machine gun. I know exactly who’s standing out there. I’ve been avoiding him—and the rest of the world—for the past week, opting to work remotely.

He needs to take a hint.

I should be glad he’s given me this long without being an annoying little asshole.

If I didn’t already know I look like shit, John’s reaction makes it evident when I finally open the door.

He’s still standing there, grinning at me, and keeps ringing it over and over, even as he stares at me. “This is kinda fun.”

“Fuck you.” My heart’s not in it when I say it though.

He finally stops, then steps back and appraises me from head to toe. “Jesus Christ. I mean that literally, by the way. You look like you died three days ago and just rose from the dead.” He leans in a little, making a show of sniffing the air, then fakes a couple coughs like he’s choking. “Fucking smell like it, too.”

“What do you want, man?” Instead of stepping aside so he can come in, I leave him standing outside with the front door wide open.

I just walk back to the sofa. He knows how to get through an open door.

He lets out a whistle, strolling through the house. “You fire the housekeeper?”

“As a matter of fact, I told her to take a paid vacation. Bought the tickets myself to wherever she wanted to take her family.”

“What a swell humanitarian you are.” He walks around, looking my place up and down.

I eye him warily when he takes a seat in the armchair across from me. He spreads out as usual, slinging his coat over the other chair before settling in.

“Why you here?”

“You know why I’m here, bro.”

“I know I fucked up, the whole week, and you’ve been dealing with everything. I appreciate that and I’m sorry.”

“Not sorry enough to get off your ass and do anything about it, though. Right?”

I can’t help but growl at him, no matter how immature it makes me. “Is that all you came here for? So you don’t have to keep dealing with the bullshit?”

“No, I’m telling you what you need to hear, because I’d be a shitty fucking friend if I didn’t. And I gave you time, let you keep on like this. It’s been a week. That’s long enough. Now stop being a bitch.”

This ought to be good. I sit back, folding my arms. “So you’re an expert on what I need to hear now?”

“Ohh, he’s got an attitude now. Yeah, I’m your best friend. I know what you need to hear. I’ve earned the right to say it.”

“Don’t, fucking…” I wave a finger up and down. “Just, you get away with a lot, because you’re my best friend, but don’t fucking push me right now.” I know I’m wrong and need to appreciate what he’s doing, I’m just so fucking angry and disgusted with myself.

“What are you going to do? Breathe on me? Because your breath is pretty fucking lethal right now. When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”

I point at the door. “Just go, if this is all you’re here for. I know the speech. I know you.”

“Don’t do that shit like a little bitch. Don’t be the pussy that makes me pry shit out of you. It’s ridiculous.”

“Nothing you say will work. Nothing you can say is worse than anything I’ve said to myself in the mirror the past week.”

“Has it gotten you anywhere?”

“No comment.” I look away, suddenly ashamed of myself for an entirely different reason.

For a while, the only sound in the room comes from the TV. It’s not as if I’ve been paying attention to the Vikings or to any of the games I’ve flipped back and forth through this afternoon. It’s all a matter of filling time, killing time, fumbling around to distract myself.

“You know, they’re trying to hold the union vote as soon as possible. After we axed everyone. They’re all filing for appeals. I’m surprised she held everything together still, after that.”

“I know.” My voice stays flat.

“Which way do you think it’s going to go?”

“I honestly don’t know. It doesn’t fucking matter what I think anyway.”

As horrific as it would be, I hope they win the vote. Even if it would mean a hell of a lot of grief for us, as executives. I know it would mean me losing my company. I want to say it’s to screw the board, but I know it’s because it’s what’s right. Not even because Hazel got it started either. Sure, I want her to win. But I want every last board of director and major shareholder to eat fucking shit now, for what they’ve put me through.

Even if I can’t be the one to rub it in their faces.

“Can I ask you something?” John leans in, arms resting on his thighs.

Even now, that gets a snicker out of me. “Since when do you ask permission to run your fucking yap?”

He ignores the question in favor of hitting me with a hard stare from beneath lowered brows. “What makes you happy?”

“What?” I blurt out a laugh.

“I’m serious, man. What fucking makes you happy anymore? Because I know it’s sure as hell not the business.”

“Where is this coming from? Since when do you care whether or not I’m happy?”

“Jesus.” He stares me down. “I’m your best friend. I care more about you being happy than anything else, as pussy as it sounds. Don’t be a bitch about it either. It’s too important to not be honest and hide behind macho bullshit.”

“That’s not how I meant it.” I hold up my hands in a sign of surrender. “What I mean is, we don’t sit around talking about fucking feelings.” I shudder a little when I say the last word.

“Stop being an asshole. You’re deflecting and we both know it.” He cranes his head around like I’m being ridiculous. “When you’re sitting here like fucking Howard Hughes or something, pissing into jars and leaving them lying around the place…”

“I don’t do that, just the workers at the warehouse.”

He dies laughing. “Jesus, bro.”

I shrug, trying not to laugh. “I still brush my teeth, you piece of shit.”

“Whatever, ho. You’re falling the fuck apart, and that’s not meant as an insult. It’s coming from a place of genuine concern—yes, I’m capable of that.”

“I know.” I glance over at him, trying to look grateful.

He falls back in the chair with a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his hair in a gesture I’ve seen countless times. “For what it’s worth, I’m not even talking about Hazel right now. I know it hurts, not being with her. Maybe she’ll never forgive you. I’m sorry about that, I really am. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days, and now it’s obvious you haven’t been happy in a long time. It’s like the whole reason we started Rapid in the first place dissolved the minute we went public. That was the one moment where I look back to, where everything changed. We thought we were doing the right thing, but now, I’m not so sure.”

Maybe it’s the fact of needing something to think about besides the way I broke Hazel’s heart, but he’s got my attention. “You think so? I always thought it was the logical next step.”

“You remember the way it used to be?” There’s an edge of excitement in his voice, fresh energy. “When we first started, playing football and shit in the Minnie warehouse with the employees? How it was like a legit family. Everyone was in it together. They worked hard because they believed in what we were doing. The IPO has always felt like we sold them out.”

I smile a little thinking about it. “We just wanted to be our own boss, so nobody could tell us what to do.”

“More than that, too. We wanted to build a company we’d be proud of. We seriously said we didn’t want the shit to happen that has ended up happening.”

The more I think about it, the clearer the memory that comes—and the farther away it feels. “Yeah, man. Well, we had one shot and we wanted to grow. There was no way to do it without that IPO.”

“At least it felt like we believed in something back then.” He glances around. “Now, all we give a fuck about is stock prices and market share. Pretending to be the company we started out being with our pretty core values web page and commercials.”

“We have a responsibility?—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s all bullshit, though. We both know that.”

I glance over. “Yeah. I know.”

“Do you think that old version of us would be proud of us now?”

“You think younger us, us’s, I don’t know how to say it, but you think they’d be happy about what they see right now?”

“No. Not at all.”

“So? What are we going to do?”

It’s almost enough to make me laugh, that question. “We don’t really have any fucking options, man. We backed ourselves into a corner.”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.”

“Want to resign? Sell our fucking shares? Burning it down is the only thing we could do that would make any difference. And that still might hurt the workers too, across the whole country. Not just this one warehouse.”

It’s his turn to stroke his jaw, only he’s doing it in a vain attempt to conceal a grin. “Kinda feels like the only thing to do, to me.”

For one brief, heart-stopping moment, I can see it play out in my head. Announcing my resignation, giving up ownership, throwing everyone under the bus. Doing tell-all interviews. Believe me, every single media outlet would damn sure want to talk to me about that. I imagine speaking out against the board’s tactics. No fucking way Hazel would lose her labor fight if I did it. I’m just worried it all might collapse.

Hank and the board would lose billions, collectively. The stock would tank twenty percent, easy, in one day. I’d have to be careful and have lawyers look at it, to see if we even could unload our shares. We may have to wait until they take the hit, then sell, to avoid an investigation.

It’s suicide. It’d kill everything we built. “We can’t do that, man. It’d destroy the whole thing.”

“Would you shut the fuck up for a minute and give this some serious thought? Nothing is easy. This is our move. Yeah, it would hurt, for a while, but we’d shed these fucks. Do an ESOP to fill some of the vacant equity, and have it be an employee-owned portion. The new union would love that if the vote passes, and if it doesn’t, the employees would still appreciate it.”

“I just… Man.”

He folds his arms, and I’ve seen his expression enough times to know he’s not going to give up.

“It’s not going to win her back, no matter what I do.”

“It’s the right thing for the warehouses. For the employees. Remember the guys we used to play football with when we first started? Some of them still work down there. They are fucking scrambling around, all of them are scared as fuck. They’re already miserable. I still have contacts over there, still friends with some people. If we don’t step out and speak, that union vote is gonna get smoked. And you know our next steps. We’re working on automating everything there because of these fucks telling us what to do. All the jobs nationwide are already on the chopping block, but Minnie first. Their days are all numbered if they don’t form this union. I don’t know if I can live with myself if we go down that path. I’ll have to resign anyway. Might as well do it on my own terms.”

“Dude. Just, I need a minute. I know you’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“So have you. Stop fucking around, man.”

He’s right. I have thought about it. I just didn’t want to throw him under the bus anymore, and it’s difficult, thinking about quitting everything I’ve ever known. Everything I’ve built.

“Stop being a little bitch. Stand up for yourself and do what needs to be done.”

“You can do motivational speaking when we’re out of a job. You’re a natural.”

“I’m being real with you. Make a fucking move and stop hemming and hawing.” He glares right at me. “I can’t look at you like this. I’ve seen you injured before. At least you have a chance to play this time. To go out on your own fucking terms.”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“Pussy. No wonder you’re having female trouble. You act like this in front of her?”

Strange. I should tell him to get fucked, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He doesn’t know Hazel like I do. He wasn’t there, he didn’t hear the things I said to her.

That’d be me just making even more excuses.

My eyes narrow on him. “Fuck it.”

John lifts his brow. “What’s that mean?”

“It means fuck it. Make a fucking move. You’re right. Let’s do what we need to do. Whatever happens with Hazel, happens. But let’s drill these old bastards in the mouth.”

“Thank Christ.” He shakes his head. “About fucking time. And for the record. I think you’ll get her back too.”

“Doubtful. You didn’t see what I did to her.”

“Doesn’t matter. I know how you feel about her. That’s a powerful thing.”

“Now who sounds like a pussy.”

“Eat my ass, bitch. Let’s make a plan.”