Black Light: Charmed (Black Light Series Book 15), page 20
“If we need big changes, I think now is the time, don’t you?” he asked, feeling the stress of all of his failures creeping up on him. “I want your honest opinion.”
“Exactly how honest do you want me to be, Logan?”
Chuckling, Logan sighed. “I’m not going to fire you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That is good to know, and I think I’ll take it as my first point.” Jared took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Listen, Logan, you know I worked with your father the last few years he was in charge, and he had a leadership style that was… not very appreciated. When you took over his position, I know that I, and many others, were hoping you’d bring change.”
“And I didn’t,” he filled in.
“Right. The micro-management has increased, not decreased. Our advisors feel less empowered to take action on accounts without decisions running up the chain, sometimes all the way to your desk. And, in some ways, you’ve got our employees more scared of getting fired now than when your father was in charge.”
“Shit,” Logan muttered, leaning back in his chair as he scrubbed at his face.
“I know you took things on pretty young, but you’ve never had to do this alone, Logan. You’ve got a lot of knowledge in the boardroom, and in the upper ranks of our organization, and right now it doesn’t seem like you’re open to any of it.” Jared was using a gentle tone, almost fatherly, except that he sounded nothing like his father. But he was practically old enough to be. Jared Parker was almost twenty years older than him, and when he thought back over the years since his dad had died, he couldn’t really argue with the man.
“You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “You know, when I first took over as President and CEO, the only thing I was worried about was not embarrassing my family name. Not damaging my father’s legacy. If I’m honest with myself, I think that’s been my number one concern all along. Not the actual health of the company, or our success, and I’m sorry I haven’t made better use of what you and the others have to offer.”
“Okay… not to be rude, but were you abducted by aliens? Body-snatched? And if so, what have you done with Logan Chisholm?” Jared chuckled, and Logan joined him, letting his stress go a little as he continued to laugh.
“I deserved that,” Logan admitted, smiling as he looked over the photos on his bookshelves. So many empty, lonely pictures. So much wasted time. “Recently I had someone I care about make it very clear to me that I have to change some things. Not just about myself, but about how I live my life, and I know that has to include Whitney Asset Management.”
“Well, I owe them a gift basket, because I think this is the first real conversation you and I have ever had.” Jared was smiling, he could hear it in his tone, and Logan had to admit this conversation felt much different than any other he’d had at the company. It felt better. Easier.
“I’ll see what I can do about passing that along. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d really like to come up with some central ideas for change that we can pass along to the board for them to look over during the holiday. Let them add their ideas to the mix, and then after Christmas we can do a virtual meeting to review them and see what can be implemented quickly.”
“No holds barred?” Jared asked.
“Give me your best shot,” Logan replied, grinning, and he leaned forward to his laptop to take notes.
He’d told Jared that the call would be short, but they’d been on the phone over two hours when they finally hung up. The changes they’d discussed were big. If even half of them were implemented in the new year, Whitney Asset Management would feel like a completely different company.
They’d be empowering their advisors to make decisions in the best interest of the clients, without needing layers of approval, which aligned with the new customer-controlled angle the industry had taken in recent years. It would also mean that Logan, and other leaders, wouldn’t be holding up key clients from taking action with their investments.
And that had apparently been how Berringer Holdings managed to steal their clients.
All the hours he’d spent shouting at people, writing angry emails, fuming and raging… and the people around him had known why it was happening, but they’d been too afraid to tell him.
It was a foundational concept in every leadership book. You get more done through others than you can ever do yourself. And Logan had definitely forgotten that, if he’d ever even truly understood it to begin with.
But, for the first time, he felt hopeful that the company might pull out of its tailspin.
Change wouldn’t be easy, but Jared had assured him that the primary goals they’d outlined would be things the employees and the leadership would support. Everything else would just take time.
Setting aside his laptop, he grabbed the notes he’d scribbled down after his call with Vanessa. He’d written ‘roommate’ with two underlines before Jared called, and he tried to remember where he was going with the idea.
What had her roommate told him before they had coffee?
“Spontaneous!” he shouted, writing the word down quickly as he thought back to Cassandra’s sassy roommate. She’d taken great joy in dressing him down, but in the end, she’d given him some tips on how to impress Cassandra.
One had been about being spontaneous, interesting.
“What else did she say?” he muttered, resting his head in his hands. Then it hit him, and he wrote as quickly as he could. Cassandra’s roommate had echoed things that Cassandra said to him often. Not everything has to be perfect. Sometimes things are just better when they’re unplanned, disorganized.
Living his life by his father’s rules had almost steered the company into disaster, and had made him so rigid, so focused on being perfect, that he didn’t even know how to actually live. If he wanted a chance in hell of getting Cassandra to give him a second chance, he’d have to show her that he was ready to really live his life. To enjoy it. Hopefully with her.
The pictures on the bookshelves distracted him again, reminding him of the conversation he and Cassandra had about them. About friends, and loneliness, and so many other things that had never crossed his mind until she’d entered his life.
As he stared at them, another memory popped into his head, and he smiled as an idea formed.
It would be ballsy, definitely not perfect, and very spontaneous coming from him — and if he was lucky, it would be interesting enough to get her attention.
That’s all that mattered.
Getting her attention one more time so he could try for a second chance before he lost her for good.
Chapter 24
Cassandra
The bar was surprisingly crowded for three days before Christmas, but Cassandra appreciated the distraction, which was the whole point of this little ‘girls’ night out’ Vanessa had planned.
“What do you want next?” Vanessa asked, having to practically yell over the music and the crowd.
“Another chardonnay!” she shouted back, wincing at the noise.
Abelita reached over to grab Vanessa’s shoulder, finishing off her vodka soda as she pointed at the bar. “Wait, I got this round!”
“Thanks!” Vanessa answered before shifting her seat a little closer to Cassandra and lowering her voice. “Are you having any fun at all?”
“Yeah,” Cassandra lied, smiling at her friend as she twirled the stem of her wine glass, trying to feel that rush that encouraged her to let go, have fun, enjoy herself… but it wasn’t there. She’d been pouring all her energy into being happy for Abelita’s news on the Victoria’s Secret call, which she sincerely was excited about, but all she really wanted to do was lie in bed.
Not healthy.
“I know that’s not true, but I’ll let it slide,” Vanessa said, bumping her with her shoulder as she smiled. “After all, the universe works in mysterious ways, and it is Christmas time. Maybe you’ll get your own little Christmas miracle?”
“Maybe,” Cassandra replied, rolling her eyes a little at the idea. She believed that good things happened when you focused on them… but Cassandra had absolutely not been putting out good vibes into the universe lately. It was more of the pity-party-of-one type of energy, which she was okay with. After she spent a week with her family, and got back to her routine with work, she’d feel better.
“Well, good evening!” Wyatt said, stepping past another table to stand next to Vanessa. She smiled and looked up at him, accepting his quick kiss, and Cassandra waved at him.
“Glad you could come, Wyatt! Vanessa said you were still running errands. Christmas shopping?” she asked, laughing a little when he sighed.
“You caught me. I’m very good at planning for absolutely everything… except figuring out the perfect gift for this naughty girl.” His voice dropped a little on the last words, and he winked at Vanessa when her wide eyes sought his.
“You were doing that kind of shopping?” Vanessa asked, clearly a little nervous, but Cassandra knew she was excited too. They were a perfect match. The luck of the roulette wheel had been on their side… just like Cassandra had thought it had been for her.
Shaking her head, Cassandra smiled at their playful banter, turning to help Abelita set the glasses on the table when she returned.
“Oh, hey, I didn’t know someone else was coming!” Abelita said, lifting her hands apologetically. “I just grabbed a round, but if you’ll tell me what you want I can—”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Wyatt said, waving a hand. “I can grab something in a bit when I’m ready.”
Cassandra felt her phone buzz inside her little purse as she took a sip of her wine, listening to Abelita and Wyatt introducing themselves. She was about to mention that Wyatt supported the Dudorov Ballet when her phone buzzed again… and then again.
And again.
Rolling her eyes, Cassandra opened the flap on her purse and tugged out her phone, glancing at the Instagram notifications on her screen. She’d thought it might be Logan called again, but it wasn’t, so she set the phone face down on the table.
But when she looked up, everyone was staring at her.
“Did I miss something?” she asked, just as Wyatt leaned down to say something in Vanessa’s ear, and her eyes went wide. Huffing, Cassandra stared at her friend. “What!”
“I think you should check what’s happening on your phone,” Wyatt said, pointing toward it on the table.
“Why?” Cassandra picked it up, tapping the screen to wake it up, and again to expand the list of Instagram notifications. They were all from the same user, ‘notprincecharming0219.’ Scrolling down, she tapped the oldest notification and when it appeared on her screen, her breath froze.
Logan?
She leaned back in her chair, as she stared at his face. It was a selfie of him, half-smiling, in front of the bar in his living room. All the bottles and glassware were gone, replaced with picture frames. Lots and lots of picture frames. Scrolling down she read the post he’d made with it: ‘My name is Logan Chisholm and I’ve never used Instagram before today, but someone I care about very much does use it… and I thought this might be the best way to show what I learned about myself because I met her.’
“What is this?” she asked, her heart pounding as she looked up to see Vanessa covering her mouth with her hands, and Abelita rolling her eyes.
“Just keep reading!” Vanessa said, clearly holding back tears as Wyatt took the seat beside her with a small smile, reaching over to rub his girlfriend’s back.
Glancing at Abelita made her roommate sigh. “Go on.”
“You knew about this?” she asked, and Abelita shrugged.
“Vanessa told me what the idiot had planned. Just… go on. Read.”
Turning her gaze back to the screen, she clicked on his username and started at the bottom of his feed. The entire idea of Logan being on Instagram seemed impossible, but there he was. Face and name for all to see on a public feed. Anyone could see this. His employees, the board at his company, stockholders… anyone. He’d panicked when he thought she was posting an anonymous picture of him with her in a coffee shop!
Scrolling past the first selfie, she found another one of him inside the bar area, a different angle to the shot where his smile looked even less confident. The picture showed empty shelves underneath the bar—all of the bottles were gone—and behind him she noticed the large portrait of him and his father from his study. He’d moved it to the bit of wall beside the shelves for the bar. Shaking her head, she expanded the text for the post: ‘When I was younger, I promised myself that I’d never be like my father. That I would be a different man, a better man. Unfortunately, I inherited more of his flaws than I ever wanted to admit to myself. His temper, his stoicism, his inability to communicate, and his tendency to drown everything out by seeking the bottom of a glass. I didn’t recognize how much these flaws affected me until I did something that hurt the person I care about. But seeing the consequences of my actions, my behavior, helped me see all the ways my father’s legacy has impacted my life.’
Cassandra scrolled to the next picture as quickly as she could, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw his smile again. He was still so fucking gorgeous. Standing in the sunshine, in his backyard… and he wasn’t in a suit. He was in a navy sweater that made his blue eyes pop in the bright sunlight. One of his arms was extended in the direction of his pool and the beautiful view of L.A. stretched out into the distance behind him. Underneath the picture it read: ‘Someone once told me that I live a charmed life, but I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. I knew I was fortunate, that my wealth has allowed me to live comfortably without ever worrying about money… but I’ve never focused on that. Instead of appreciating my home, my cars, my opportunities, I did exactly what my father always did — I focused on everything wrong instead. If there was a single mistake, a single error, then I was failing. If something wasn’t perfect, then it was wrong. I’ve lived like that for so many years that although I had this charmed life, I wasn’t actually living it. I never stopped working long enough to enjoy it. To see the things right in front of me.’
“Did you tell him to write this?” she asked, looking up at Vanessa as she felt the tears rising in her eyes, but her friend shook her head hard.
“No, no! I don’t even know what they say, I swear, I just talked him through using Instagram. How to make posts and save them to drafts so he could… you know, post them now.” Vanessa lifted her hands. “I swear. I actually can’t wait to read what he said.”
“Same here,” Abelita added, taking a sip of her drink as she pointed at the phone. “But you have to read them first.”
“You talked to him though?” Cassandra pressed, looking back at Vanessa and Wyatt, and her friend looked more than a little guilty.
“He called me,” Wyatt answered, shrugging a shoulder. “I know he was an asshole. Vanessa told me all about it, but I have to admit I feel a little sorry for the guy. I think I might be his only friend.”
“Logan said you were his friend?” she repeated, still too stunned over everything to process any of it.
“Actually, I think he said he’d like to be able to call me his friend, but to be honest, Logan seems pretty out of practice with… everything. Not just friendship.”
“But he’s trying!” Vanessa piped up, immediately covering her mouth as she shook her head. “I’m not saying that matters. This is all you, Cass, but please at least read them?”
“Okay…” Cassandra took a shaky breath, looking down at the screen to find the next post, but it was hard to focus with all the thoughts flying through her head. Had he actually listened to the things she said? Was this real? Did Logan actually understand what had been going on with him?
Did it matter either way?
Biting her lip, she blinked away the haze of tears and saw the next selfie of him, back inside, leaning down in front of the framed photos lining the edge of his bar. All the pictures from his solo travels around the world that had been on his bookshelves, but there were more too. Behind the front row were a few pictures of him and his mom, showing a chubby-cheeked, smiling little boy, and a beautiful blonde woman. A woman he’d lost when he was still just a kid. Fighting the tears and the dull ache in her chest, she read the next post: ‘After college I traveled for a while. I’ve been to so many incredible locations around the world thanks to my charmed life… but I went everywhere alone. I went there to see these places in person, to check them off my list and file them away as ‘accomplished,’ but that was all it was. A checklist. Not an experience, not living, because I don’t have many memories of those trips that actually matter. If I still had someone to share it with, I’d go see these places again. We’d walk the Great Wall of China and stop to just enjoy the views, we’d tour the Gardens of Versailles and take a hundred pictures so we could remember it for years. I’d hike to Machu Pichu in Peru, stroll the streets of Rome, sail the islands in the Aegean Sea, climb the Eiffel Tower – I’d go anywhere, as long as she was by my side.’
The next photo was a simple one. Just Logan on his couch, the last place she’d seen him in person, and the accompanying text was just as simple: ‘I’ve been a lot of places and had a lot of opportunities, but it was on this couch that I wasted the best opportunity I ever had. The chance to be with someone who believed in me. Who believed I could be a better man before I had any idea what that might even mean.’
Scrolling up, Cassandra felt like she couldn’t breathe right. Her chest was tight, her pulse racing, and the worst part was the way her optimistic hopeful side was rearing its head. Everything he said sounded so good, so wonderful… but she reined it in and looked at the last photo. It was Logan, outside, on a street in the city. The Christmas lights decorating the storefronts, glowing in multi-colored glory under the night sky. He was wearing the same navy sweater, and she could see the sadness in his half-smile as she clicked the text beneath it. ‘There’s so much in life I haven’t appreciated, that I’ve taken for granted, and I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to really live my life, I want to see the good in life, I want to see the sunlight in your smile again, and I’ll wait all night if it means I can have the chance to tell you I’m sorry.’
