“I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I’d suspected she wanted to clear the air since I’m involved with her brother again.”
“But?” Molly prompted and reached for a blueberry tart.
“It ended up being a business meeting.” Amery sipped her coffee. “About the pitch I made to Okada Foods.”
“Please tell me she asked you to pitch something again?”
“No need to. Long story short, the multiple major design companies they checked out for the same project we worked on were bypassed in favor of our designs.”
Molly’s jaw dropped. Luckily she slapped her hand over her mouth before blueberry filling spilled out. She swigged her coffee and blurted, “Omigod. Amery, that’s huge! And this is not one of the times to cut the story short. I need details.”
So Amery filled her in on everything, and Molly still wore a look of shock.
“I knew our designs rocked because they were so different, but I kinda worried that might be a detriment.”
“Evidently not. Here’s where we stand and what Okada offered.” She pulled out the contracts. “Try not to get blueberry stains on them.”
Molly stuck out her tongue.
Amery finished three cups of coffee and sorted her laundry while Molly scoured the documents. She’d pulled a notepad out of her purse and jotted down notes.
“Okay. You can stop pacing now,” she called from the kitchen.
“What’s the verdict, MBA candidate?”
“Well, the contracts are specific, and extensive, but they seem fair. I’d definitely have a lawyer look them over and see if any loopholes show up.”
“So which, if any, option do you think is best?”
Molly looked taken aback. “Why are you asking me? You’re the owner.”
“But you’ve got a stake in this too. You worked on the project for free. You haven’t cut your hours back even when I’ve cut your paycheck. You’re very much a team player. I need to know if you want to be on my team and, if so, whether it’s long-term.” She held up her hand when Molly opened her mouth. “Hear me out completely first.
“You’re in school. This job was supposed to be part-time, no pressure, a way to give you a chance to work with your creative side. Not everyone can get an MBA, and your business classes are just going to get harder in the next two years. I’m not implying that you can’t do both—I just want you to ask yourself if you think it’s worth it.”
“What? Getting my MBA? Or working here?”
“Either. Both. If I decide to sign the contract, I can’t do all the work myself. I need help. I’d love for that help to come from you. But then again, this is my business, and I’m not sure if you want to be invested in my vision. I hope you understand I’m saying that with zero malice, Molly. You are a bright, fantastic young woman with a thousand roads open to you. I don’t want you to feel you’ve gotten stuck on this one with me.” Amery stopped to take a breath.
“Well, if you’re done listing all the reasons I should cut tail and run, maybe you’d like to hear my perspective?” Molly said curtly.
“By all means.”
“I applied to graduate school in Denver because I knew if I didn’t, I’d be stuck living at home, working as a number cruncher for my uncle Bob’s insurance business for the rest of my life. So I never had a burning desire to get an MBA as much as I had a burning desire to get the hell out of Norfolk, Nebraska.
“I spent my whole life goal oriented. My nose stuck in a book. Believing the world I lived in with my family would always be enough. I think I still sort of believed that even after I moved here. But my ideas began to change after I went to work for you. You never made me feel dowdy or like a hick girl in the city. You took the time to teach me, to build up my self-esteem, to show me that yes, maybe someday I could be as cool as you—working in a job I love, having friends to hang out with and not just wacky relatives. I could have a better future than I ever imagined for myself.”
“Molly, you’re going to make me cry.”
“Suck it up because I’m not done. So while I’d like to continue taking business classes, if I have the chance to go to work for you full-time, earn a good salary, help you grow and expand your business, then I’ll drop out of school tomorrow.”
Amery laughed and discreetly wiped her tears. “Okay, then. You’re on board. Before we dissect the contract options, I want to say my goal, while making money and doing work I’m proud of, isn’t to become obsessed with this and work myself to exhaustion or to the point I hate it. Finding balance in life is key.”
“I never understood what that meant until the last couple of months, when I’ve actually built a life outside of school, books, and bad TV.” Molly smiled. “I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough for chewing me out for my shit attitude.”
“I just wish I could’ve done it without you being physically assaulted first.”
“But you wouldn’t have met Ronin.”
Amery smiled. “There is that.”
“How are things going with him?”
“Good. He’s almost back to his normal pushy, bossy, impossibly perfect self.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I know his instructors at the dojo were really concerned about him after you guys broke up. Every time I saw him, he looked like crap. Like he’d been on the receiving end of . . .”
Her gaze zoomed to Molly. “Of what? Did you know Master Black had started fighting again?”
“I didn’t know specifics, but all you had to do was look at him to see something was up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was a mess?” Amery demanded.
Molly gave her a defiant look. “Because you didn’t ask me, Amery. Not once. You knew I went to the dojo, and you never asked me if I’d seen Ronin or how he was doing.”
“And if I had?”
“I would’ve told you the truth. He was a wreck. You were a wreck.”
“I was not,” Amery protested.
“Puh-lease.” Molly rolled her eyes. “Within hours of your breakup with Ronin, you ran away for an entire week. You spent the next week in your loft eating ice cream and crying while you watched martial arts movies and romantic tragedies.”
She blushed.
“You snapped out of it a little in week three. The beginning of week four, you burst into tears when the cover you did for Cherry Starr went live on the book vendor sites, and you were worthless the rest of that week.”
It’d seemed so surreal looking at that cover and the image of herself. Almost like it’d never happened. Adding in that Ronin hadn’t called her or chased her down had made her believe maybe she had been under some kind of spell.
“Week six—”
“Jesus, Molly, how the hell do you remember all this when I don’t?”
Molly offered her a smug smile. “I wrote it on the calendar. Chaz and I took bets on how long you and Ronin could hold out and stay away from each other. I said six weeks, he said eight. And since I always lose, I had to cheat—” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
That’s when Amery knew. “You’re the one who sent the package to Ronin with the peace offering and the note, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I did and, please, please don’t be mad. It got you two to talking again and to see that you are so perfect for each other—”
“Stop. I understand why you did it. I knew I was falling apart during that time, and it pissed me off because I swore I’d never be one of those women who can’t function without a man in her life.” She laughed. “I thought I’d done pretty well at hiding it from you.”
“You sucked at hiding it. It was hard for us to watch and do nothing. Chaz swore after the stuff had gone down with Emmylou and her issues with Ronin last time that he wasn’t meddling in your love life again.”
“But Chaz encouraged you to.”
“Yep. I don’t regret it, because you’re happy, Amery.”
“I am.”
Molly tapped the contracts. “So what does Ronin think of you going to work in the family business?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“What? Why not?”
She twisted a hank of hair. “Because it’s his family’s business. I need to make the decision on my own—what’s best for my company. He wouldn’t consult me on a business decision for the dojo. I have to draw that dividing line because I don’t think he can be neutral when it comes to Okada.”
“Probably true.”
“So let’s keep this between us for now.” She picked up the contracts and dropped them back in the envelope. “I’ll make copies before I take this to my lawyer.”
“Cool.” Molly slid off the stool. “And in my downtime, in my new role as office manager—”
“Office manager?” Amery repeated.
“If you take the Okada job, you’ll need to hire another graphic artist. I’ll have seniority, and I’m good at balancing the creative and business side. Anyway, I’ll check out the actual profit and losses for your existing food-based customers and see if letting that part of your business go will be a financial blow.”
“Awesome. But I want you to wait until this is a done deal before you drop out of school.”
“Damn. And here I was totally going to blow off my homework.”
“Smart-ass. Let’s get set up for the Wicksburg Farm Halloween bash.” Amery made it halfway to the sink with the empty coffee cups when she remembered she’d left her camera in Ronin’s practice room. She couldn’t take a chance on Molly seeing those photographs even if she swapped out the memory cards, and if she and Ronin continued to take risqué pictures of each other, they’d need a camera at his place anyway.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned around and smiled. “On second thought, let’s head to the electronics store first. I’ve been meaning to upgrade my camera and get one of those headset thingies.”