Chapter 60

Renee’s POV

Work has been slammed.

Sean from the coffee shop in the city was completely right. I think I probably owe him a cut of whatever fortune I’m going to make.

I wasn’t going to use my life story as my brand, but the woman at the boutique recognized me anyway and that basically proved to me to be a sign that I should just go for it.

I’m currently on the train heading back down to the city to meet with another client that she wants to introduce me to.

The train is crowded with college commuters and business people alike. The gray plastic seats are sticky and covered in a peeling foam cushion. Theres an ever present subtle aroma of body odor, and the flickering fluorescent lighting is enough to give anyone a headache- but I love the train.

It’s the only time I get to sit down for an hour and work on organizing my growing files, contact lists, and calendar.

I realized by not driving, I can be so much more productive.

The light vibration from the train speeding down the tracks reverberates throughout my body, like a constant buzz or jolt charging me for the busyness of the day.

Every morning for the past several weeks I’ve started my days off like this and run this high until I crash on the train ride home.

I must say I have some slight mom-guilt about leaving Debbie, but I’m doing this for her. Starting my own business is so she can see anything is possible so long as she sets her mind to it.

Besides she’s in kindergarten the majority of the day and when she is home, she’d rather spend her spare time catching up on all the lost years she missed with Eric by learning wolf skills from him.

When I’m home I might has well be a fly on the wall. At least out in the city I’m part of the the chaos, I’m contributing to the world economy and the market.

“Do you mind if I take your seat?” I hear someone ask. I remove my headphones and the music fades to the background as the clicking on the train over the track becomes louder and louder.

I notice the man is elderly and as much as I want to make up an excuse as to why I need to keep sitting I remind myself that I’m representing a brand and if I want people to buy my things, I have to be personable.

The man scoots past me to sit and I get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. It’s strong.

His scent mixed with the body order aroma and the chugging motion of the train is enough to make my stomach queasy. I close my laptop and try to steady my breathing.

“What were you working on?” He asks now looking up at me. Great, he’s a talker. It’s bad enough having to be so close next to a stranger on the train, the last thing I want to do is talk.

“Trying to sort out all my meetings,” I tell him while holding back a gag.

The man is older, his eyes are kind. I almost feel bad for getting so bothered by him.

“Popular girl?” He asks with a half smile.

“Trying to be,” I admit. He looks at me without saying anything, quietly waiting for me to explain more. “I’m a designer starting my own business so I’m trying to land clients,” I tell him and his smile widens like I’ve just told him some top secret.

“Well, it must be fate that we met then,” he says. I take a closer look at the man sitting next to me.

He’s wearing a suede black hat, a thin black suitcase, a lined gray suit, and that’s when I notice it. Embroider on the left of his shoulder is the logo for the city’s baseball team. The Golden Moons.

He notices me eyeing him and smiles wide. “I manage the team,” he tells me and I stop my mouth from falling open. “I was just talking to the brand manager that we’re in need of new uniforms,”

The train screeches to a halt and the doors open with a hissing sound.

The man shuffles to his feet, using a cherrywood cane to help himself. Now I really feel bad for almost lying and making him stand. “This is my stop,” he reaches into his pocket and hands me a business card. “Thanks for letting me sit,”

As soon as the man is off the train, I sit back down and connect to a hot spot and search his name on the internet.

Sure enough articles pop up completely sneaking the current players uniforms, and for good reason- they’re atrocious. I can think of ten ideas off the top of my head how to improve their look.

There’s also a biography about the man. His name is James Goodwill and it’s clear he’s loaded. He was being modest, he doesn’t just manage the team- he owns them.

Another reason I love riding the train.

Once again by the time that I get home it’s dark out. I’m not sure exactly what time it is. I dozed off on the train ride home and almost missed my stop.

I shuffle into the house, its dark which means everyone is already in bed.

I feel like I just ran a marathon. My feet ache as I slip out of shoes.

I bring my hands to my eyes and rub as a big yawn escapes me.i need to shower and sleep. Maybe eat something.

Suddenly light floors the foyer and I squeeze my eyes shut. “What the hell, Renee?” Eric asks confused.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I say referring to almost blinding me.

“You have got to stop working so late. I almost attacked you thinking you were an intruder,” Eric says.

My eyes adjust to the brightness. I shrug off my jacket and let the warmth of the house seep into me. “You work late all the time, why does it matter that I do?” I ask.

Eric scoffs. “I work to support the family. You’re working to make a mockery of our lives,” he snaps.

I’m too tired to deal with this. If he thinks I’m working this hard just for some kind of joke, he’s mental.

“You don’t even need to work,” I tell him. “You have millions and millions, I think billions of dollars,” I suppose technically I do too if I’m married to Eric, but I don’t want his money. I want my own.

Eric doesn’t say anything. I look up at him and he’s just looking at me with a sad look in his eye.

“Right?” I ask, getting the feeling that maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Mia was right, maybe Eric doesn’t have money like he used to.

I straighten upright and square my body so I’m facing Eric head on. He’s avoiding eye contact with me. “I’m going to bed,” he says.

“Eric, do you have any money?” I ask him outright. The question sounds odd coming out of my mouth, it’s unfitting like the way the sudden brightness of lights in the late of night.

Eric’s back tenses as he freezes in his stepping.

“Eric, are you broke?” I ask again.

Eric turns around to look at me. His face is pained. “I gave Jane everything I have, except Blue Moon Group, to end my tie to Mia,” Eric admits.

His words stun me. I don’t know how to respond. Everything Eric has is tied up in his business.

He did that for me.