Page 31 of Sing Your Secrets
“Why are you squealing? You don’t even know who it is.”
“She’s not excited about the celebrity. It’s the offer,” Law explains.
I check my phone again—two percent. “What are they offering?”
“Pretty much whatever we want.”
“What the hell kind of offer is that?”
“Clearly, it’s a sentimental purchase. But there’s a catch.”
Of course there is… “What’s the catch?”
“They want to buy it once it’s operating again. They probably don’t want to be bothered with the nuances of opening a new business and want to make sure it’s smooth sailing before they hand a fat check over. I can handle licenses and paperwork, but I don’t know how the hell to staff or run a music venue, so...”
“You need me.”
“Yup,” Law confirms.
“And you need me to stay in Denver?”
“I’ll hire you full-time, Miles. A generous salary.”
“You’ve already been too generous, Law. I don’t know how much more charity I can take from you.”
“If it makes you feel better, technically it’s not my investment. The buyer has agreed to reimburse staffing and the remaining renovations as long as we sign an iron-clad agreement that states we intend to sell to them and won’t accept any other offers. Everything is set up, I just need you to stay and help me get this place running.”
Stay?Why won’t the universe let this go? First my dad, then Law. Geez.
“Damn...sounds like the offer is really checking all the boxes, isn’t it?”
“Yes. This is a no-brainer. It’s only temporary. You were going to stay for a few months. Just give us a year and you can head back to L.A., or off to Atlanta, or wherever you want to go with a lot more cash in your pocket.” The clinking I hear makes me think Law is swiveling ice in his drink. They are probably in a honeymoon-style suite with a stunning electric fireplace. I bet their private hot tub overlooks the entire snow-covered town. Breckenridge is beautiful, romantic, and way too rich for my blood. But maybe if I stop going down the path I’m on…one day I could afford something like that too.
It's just a year…
L.A. isn’t going anywhere. It’ll be ready to kick my ass again whenever I decide to head back.
“Law, I’ll think about it—”
The line goes silent as my phone finally dies.
“Fuuuuck,” I grumble. I think there’s a spare charger in my center console. Walking across the gravel to my Jeep, I yank on the handle and realize it’s locked. Rolling my eyes, I head back to the main doors of The Garage. My heart drops when I notice the rubber door stop got swallowed underneath the heavy front door. The red rubber is flattened and is definitely not stopping any doors.
Goddammit!To no avail, I try the handles. Locked. Behind those stupid locked doors are my wallet, keys to my car, and keys to my current home.
I am so damn tired. I could start walking around downtown and knock on business doors, but it’s past nine on a Sunday. Everything is closed. Even if I could find someone to lend me a charger, my only hope is calling Law and Sienna back home from their anniversary trip or calling my dad, or brothers, and asking them to drive over an hour into the city to pick up my sorry ass.
Letting my back slide against the metal of the front doors, I slump onto the ground. Yeah, this feels about right. Sleeping on the street was probably the next step in this downhill trajectory I call my career…
Maybe I really have had enough.
Maybe I do need help.
Maybe I should stay.
Hell, tonight I have no choice.