"Look, I know you might not want to hear this," Ant began, setting down his empty cup. "But I'm kind of the authority on disappointing your dad. And sometimes you have to do it. If you want to be your authentic self."
Jacob instantly felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. He knew exactly what Ant meant. When Ant had come out, his father hadn't just been disappointed. He had completely cut him off. Losing his trust fund was bad enough, but what had really broken Ant was no contact with his family. Ever. And here was Jacob whining about his dad being upset with him if he didn't sell his damn soul in a business transaction.
"Just saying," Ant said, raising his eyebrows. "There are more important things than pleasing your parents, Jacob. Like not doing business with assholes. Because you're not one."
Jacob closed his eyes for a moment, unable to look Ant in the face. They didn't talk about this. They always pretended that Ant was just living with him for company, that Ant was the one doing him a favour. But they both knew the truth.
"I know," he said quietly. "God, I know. And I hate myself for not being man enough to do it. It's...a lot. I've been trying for so long to get Dad to—" he cut himself off, shaking his head.
"Your dad might surprise you, you know," Ant said. "I mean, you did your whole pitch to me about long term sustainable value and shit. I was impressed. You don't think he'll go for that instead of selling to Kappa?"
"He hated that idea even before Kappa," Jacob sighed. "He's really not into the building side of property. He's all about the deal. He can't understand why I'd want to work with just one site for years when I could buy and sell fifty properties in that time."
"That sounds like a him problem," Ant said. "Look, I know how much it means to you, getting your dad's approval. I know. But..." he looked into the distance. "You have to work out if it means everything to you, dude. Don't even think about Beatrix. I mean, she might never forgive you no matter what you do. What you have to decide is if you're going to be your own man. Make the choice you think is right. Not just the one he wants you to make."
Jacob let out a sigh and picked up his now cooling espresso. "You're pretty good at advice, you know," he said. "Maybe you should be a therapist or something."
"And deprive the world of my art?" Ant was horrified. "As if!"
✽✽✽
"I really thought we would have heard from Kappa by now with a firm offer," Chuck said, banging his fist on the desk. "Have you been following up, Jakey? Made sure they have everything they need?"
"Yes, Dad," Jacob said, feeling anxiety in every part of his body, throbbing under his skin. "I was thinking about it all though, and I wonder if maybe selling to Kappa wouldn't be the best idea—"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Chuck looked up sharply. "You'll never get another offer like that, not for the whole site! You've got to be kidding me."
"I might not see another offer like theirs," Jacob said evenly, fighting to keep his voice from croaking. "But in the long term, I could probably get greater value from the site—"
Chuck let out an exasperated sigh. "Not that sustainable development crap again, Jakey," he said, and he sounded tired. Jacob saw, with a sudden shock, just how very tired his father looked. He had never somehow thought of his dad as getting older, but he was. It wasn't just the white streaking his hair, the deep crinkles around his eyes when he laughed. It was something deeper than that. Chuck was getting more and more set in his ways, less willing to experiment. He didn't want to do any projects that required a long-term commitment.
"The projections show—" Jacob began again, and Chuck waved an exasperated hand. But this time, Jacob kept speaking. "The projections show that in twenty years, the site could be worth a hell of a lot more than what Kappa is offering now. And yeah, we'll need to service the land tax in that time, but that's what the commercial tenancies are for. I've had lots of interest, and besides—"
"You'd be a fool to say no to Kappa so you can bugger about with tenancies!" Chuck said sharply. "I don't want to hear it, Jacob."
"You put me in charge of Shepherd's Crossing," Jacob said carefully. "And I want to—"
"I put you in charge because I thought you'd be smart!" Chuck thundered, suddenly angry. "Not to let you play silly buggers when you could land a sale that would cement this family's legacy. Don't you care about your family?"
"How can you ask me that?" Jacob retorted, his own temper flaring up suddenly. "Seriously, how can you question my commitment to this family? Haven't I proven myself? All those times I've been up all night saving your ass because you didn't bother with the paperwork and—"
"So you think you know better than me and your brother, is that it?" Chuck stood up, his face red with fury. "You think you're smarter than the both of us! You might be good at paperwork, Jacob, but you've got a lot to learn about business. You don't know what's good for you. I never would have given you the site if I thought you'd mess it up like this."
"Well, I suppose that was your mistake then," Jacob said quietly and pushed out his chair, rising to his feet. "I'm leaving."
"Don't mess this up, Jacob!" Chuck shouted. "I swear to you, if you lose this deal, I'll never speak to you again!"
Jacob didn't turn around, didn't let himself react, but his shoulders tightened, his neck ached, and he knew his own face was red with rage. But he kept walking.
"What the hell is all that about?" Tom popped his head up from where he was pouring over a site plan. "Have you lost the deal with Kappa? How could you let that happen? You know how much Dad was counting on that deal, Jake."
"I don't want to talk about it," Jacob said, shaking his head. "Seriously, this is between me and Dad. You don't want to get involved."
"I'm your big brother!" Tom said, standing and grabbing Jacob by the arm. "And this is our family business. Don't tell me not to get involved."
Jacob wrenched his arm from his brother's grip. "I know," he said. "But I need you to trust me on this, Tom. Just let me work this out on my own."
Tom looked at him for a long moment. "You're the smartest guy I know, Jakey," he said quietly. "And I think you're making a huge mistake, but..." he swallowed. "I trust you. I'll try to talk to Dad, okay?"
"You don't need to do that," Jacob said quickly, but relief flooded through him. His dad might listen to Tom. Might.
"Do what you think is best, okay?" Tom said, clapping him too hard on the arm.
Jacob gave him a tight smile. "I'll try."
26 Beatrix
"Do you want to come to my next gig?" Onyx asked, handing Beatrix a flyer. "I mean, I'll understand if you're not feeling up to it, but—"
"I'll come," Beatrix said quickly, looking at the flyer. She frowned. "Who are Banshee's Promise?"
"Uh, that's us now, actually," Onyx said. "Changed the name again. We're going for more of a Sisters of Mercy vibe now, less Joy Division."
"I like it," Beatrix smiled. "Kind of mystical."
"That was the idea," Onyx looked pleased. "I don't know if Banshees are real, but..."
"Oh, they are," Beatrix said. "Well, according to Mum, anyway. But you don't see them outside of Ireland. Thankfully."
"And they can really kill with a scream?" Onyx's black-rimmed eyes were wide.
"Not with a scream," Beatrix corrected. "Actually, they kill by disembowelling their victims, and they scream as they feast on your flesh, so—" She stopped, as Onyx's face turned pale.
"Didn't realise that," he said. "Maybe we should change the name again."
"Nah," Beatrix said. "Leave it. Mum says they only attack people who deserve it." She shrugged, unsure of exactly what someone would have to do to deserve being disembowelled by a screaming swamp hag.
"Have you heard from your mum?" Onyx asked carefully.
Beatrix let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I have," she said. "She, uh, called yesterday. Said that she forgave me for being such an ungrateful daughter because of the sorrow that the unworthy Ordinary had caused me." Beatrix rolled her eyes. "Then she tried to set
me up with that Scottish warlock's son again. She seriously doesn't understand why I said no. She thinks that a week is plenty of time to get over having your heart ripped out."
"Ouch," Onyx scrunched up his face. "That's shitty."
"Yeah," Beatrix agreed, absentmindedly playing with the flyer and folding over the corners again and again. "She's not used to me saying no to her, that's for sure."
"Well, I won't try to hook you up with any of my friends," Onyx promised. "Even if Darius asks after you every time."
"Is he the one in the gas mask?" Beatrix frowned. "He's creepy."
"Yeah, he is," Onyx agreed readily. "But he's quite good looking under the mask, so if you needed a rebound..."
Beatrix shook her head. "Thanks," she said drily. "I think I could do better than a guy in a gas mask, though."
"Yeah, you could," Onyx said, and then he paused. Beatrix knew he wanted to say something but was scared of her reaction.
"What is it?" she poked him with one long finger. "What aren't you saying? Come on, I won't break. You can say anything around me."
"It's nothing," Onyx said, his gaze not meeting hers. "Just...about your mum. How she's not used to you saying no to her. Jacob had a lot of family pressure too, didn't he?"
Beatrix sighed, long and loud. "Yeah," she admitted. "It was one of the first things we bonded over, actually. Having parents who were successful, and who lost their shit if you didn't do exactly what they wanted. How hard it was to create your own path with a parent like that. Especially if you love them."
"Hmm," Onyx said evasively, still not looking at her.
"What, you think that I should give Jacob a pass on turning my home into a dystopian wasteland just because he has daddy issues?" Beatrix's voice rose a little, but she couldn't pretend she hadn't thought the same thing. Just how much pressure had Jacob been under? If her mother had wanted something from her like that, would she have said no? Could she have turned down the chance to make her mother truly proud?
"It's not the same thing at all," Beatrix went on. "Okay, so I say yes to my mum about little things, but I'd never do something like Jacob did. Never."
"I didn't say you would," Onyx said quickly. "Just... He obviously didn't want to tell you because he knew how you'd feel. What was it that he said? He hoped they'd lose interest, so he didn't have to disappoint anyone."
"He shouldn't have lied to me," Beatrix shook her head. "If he had just told me what he was doing, explained that he had to at least pretend that he might sell to them to keep his dad off his back— And we don't even know if that was what he was doing! Maybe that was just a line. Maybe he was the one who wanted it all along."
"I don't think so," Onyx said. "Jacob isn't... I mean, he's not that kind of guy."
"I thought he wasn't that kind of guy," Beatrix said. "I don't know what kind of guy he is. Because he wasn't honest with me."
"Don't get me wrong, he fucked up," Onyx nodded vigorously. "But I feel bad for him. I mean, he lost you. That's pretty shit."
Beatrix laughed bitterly. "I guess it is," she said. "But it's too late now. He's going to make that sale, and I'll have to shut down the workshop, work out where I'm going next."
"Where we're going next," Onyx corrected her.
"I thought you liked it around here," Beatrix said. "I mean, you've got the band, and your home, and..."
"No," Onyx said firmly. "You're the only person I could stand to work for. Who else is going to let me come in looking like this?" He plucked at his t-shirt, which featured an image of two skeletons in a passionate embrace.
"Their loss," Beatrix said, smiling slightly. "Anyone would be lucky to have you."
"You too, Bea," Onyx said. "I just... I don't know. Jacob might still make the right decision. It's not like he's already sold, right?"
Beatrix shook her head. "Who in their right mind would choose to give up a deal like that? I know how much they pay for land for data centres. Double, even triple the usual value. I looked it all up."
"Someone who's a good person would," Onyx shrugged. "You wouldn't take the deal. And..." he tilted his head. "Someone who was in love might not take the deal either."
"Jacob didn't love me," Beatrix said, but as she said it, a lump formed in her throat, and she wanted to cry all over again. Goddamn it, hadn't she cried enough? There had to be a limit on how many tears one single human could produce in a week.
Onyx shrugged. "I don't know, Bea," he said finally. "I kind of thought he did."
✽✽✽
"Yep, okay," Beatrix said. "Yeah, that's fine. Yes, I'll call you back when I'm sure. No, I don't need you to check in with me. Really. Okay. Bye." She swiped off the call before the enthusiastic realtor on the other end of the line could say anything else.
"Bloody hell, those people talk a lot," she sighed, opening a cupboard and pulling a pig's ear from a Tupperware container for Gumbo. He deserved it, listening to even half of that.
"All I wanted was to find out what this place might go for if I put it on the market," Beatrix sighed. "She nearly bit my damn hand off." She shook her head. "Well, we sure won't be broke if we sell, buddy." She reached down to pat him, but Gumbo was entirely focused on the pig's ear.
Beatrix leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering what to do now. She didn't want to make dinner, that was for sure. She hadn't had a proper meal in days, not when it was so much easier to pick at cheese, crackers, and chocolate biscuits all evening before finishing up with a half bottle - or more - of wine before bed. She knew she needed to take better care of herself. But she wasn't even remotely motivated to do so.
"Do you think we should leave now, buddy?" she asked out loud, not expecting any particularly coherent response from Gumbo. "Leave before we have to see what Jacob does to this place?"
At the word "Jacob", Gumbo dropped his pig's ear and looked up, whining softly.
"I'm sorry, buddy!" Beatrix said, feeling guilty. "I know you miss your little friend. I don't know why, she was a total dictator. But you miss her, huh?"
Gumbo looked at her with mournful dark eyes before returning his attention back to the pig's ear.
"And I miss him so much that I feel like I can't breathe," Beatrix admitted. "I don't know what I'm going to do because it feels like I can never get over this. Even though I should hate him, and I'm so angry, but I..." her words faltered.
"I just wish he..." she sighed. "I don't know, Gumbo. I wish he had loved me enough not to do that. It's stupid, huh? Being hung up about a guy who lied to me, who's about to turn our home into a nightmare. And I still miss him. How stupid must I be?"
Gumbo didn't reply in any form whatsoever as he gnawed on the pig's ear, but the sound made Beatrix feel less alone.
"It's stupid," she declared. "Maybe I should just go to Onyx's show and hook up with gas mask guy, try and get Jacob out of my head." She pushed off the kitchen bench as though ready to take action.
But she knew she wouldn't be hooking up with gas mask guy - or anyone else - for a long time. Her heart still belonged to Jacob, no matter how much she might wish it didn't.
27 Jacob
"This is Jacob Jones, is that Martin?"
"Jacob, hello," Martin's nasal voice was no less grating over the phone. "I told your father, we'll get an offer to you by the end of the week. There's no need to follow up."
"I'm not following up," Jacob said, and he took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "This is just a courtesy call to let you know that the site is no longer available."
"No longer available?" Martin's voice went from nasal to shrill. "What are you talking about? This is madness. I do not believe you could have received an offer larger than what we discussed. Who is it? We'll outbid them!"
"There's no other offer," Jacob said, his stomach performing a dizzying array of flips and somersaults. "It's simply not for sale. I'll be retaining the site to develop myself."
"You can't be serious," Martin laughed derisively. "Is this your idea of a clever negotiati
on tactic? We're already offering you twice the market value. It would be foolish to push us, Jacob."
"It's not a tactic," Jacob said simply. "As I said, it's a courtesy call. The site is no longer on the market. You cannot buy it because it's not for sale."
"Does your father know about this?" Martin began, sounding shrewd. "Is he aware of this? I will call him now and—"
"You're welcome to call him," Jacob said. "But as I'm the sole landholder, it won't do you any good. The site is not for sale." He let out a breath, amused by Martin's apoplectic stuttering. "Anyway, you have a good day."
"This discussion isn't over!"
"Yes, it is," Jacob said, and he ended the call. He put the phone down and stared at it, wondering how long it would take for Martin to call his father, and for his dad to call him. He put a cushion over the phone and stepped outside to the little courtyard where Ant was busily crushing up a bucket of broken beer bottles with what looked like a polo mallet.
"You did it?" Ant said, looking up. "You really did it?"
"I really did it," Jacob confirmed.
"And how do you feel?"
"Like absolute shit," Jacob said. "Dad's going to be furious, and it might be the last time he ever speaks to me, but..."
"But?"
"But it was the right thing to do," Jacob said, nodding slightly. His throat was dry, his stomach constricted, he hadn't slept properly in days, and his eyes itched from tiredness. But he knew he had made the right decision.
Ant nodded. "Here," he said, handing Jacob the mallet. "Have a go."
"You think this will help?" Jacob said, swinging it experimentally in the air.
Ant shrugged. "Can't hurt," he said. "And besides, my shoulders hurt, and I need these green ones shattered."
Jacob snorted, but he took aim and brought the mallet down on the bottles just the same. They gave way instantly under the force, with an extremely satisfying sound of shattering glass. He lifted the mallet and smashed it down again and again. Lift, smash. Lift, smash. Lift, smash. SMASH.
"Woah, I think that's enough," Ant said, stopping him. "I need some big pieces too, not just sand.
Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4) Page 25
