The setback, p.1
The Setback, page 1
The Setback
B. E. Baker
Copyright © 2023 by B. E. Baker
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For Eugenia Stuckey
You were an amazing grandmother, and you
taught me so much. But mostly I remember that
you loved me and you were proud of me, and
that’s the important part.
Contents
Author’s Note
Prologue: Abigail
1. Helen
2. Amanda
3. Donna
4. Helen
5. Amanda
6. Donna
7. Helen
8. Amanda
9. Beth
10. Donna
11. Helen
12. Amanda
13. Donna
14. Beth
15. Helen
16. Helen
17. Amanda
18. Donna
19. Helen
20. Donna
21. Amanda
22. Helen
23. Donna
24. Beth
25. Helen
26. Amanda
27. Helen
28. Beth
29. Donna
Epilogue: Mandy
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by B. E./Bridget E. Baker
Author’s Note
A lot of you preordered The Setback right after The Reboot… It helps authors so much when you preorder, so thank you!!
But.
I decided to write a bonus book that wasn’t planned. It’s called The Surprise. It became book 6, and this one moved back to book 7. It’s NECESSARY to read The Surprise before you read this book, The Setback. So if you haven’t read The Surprise yet, DO NOT start reading this one. Go back and get The Surprise first!
Prologue: Abigail
From the moment we’re born, human beings are governed by fear. You can practically see the terror in a baby’s eyes when you yank the bottle away too soon. When a parent walks away, even from a toddler, they’ll often cling to your leg and sob.
You’d think that as adults who can walk, talk, and feed ourselves, that ever-present fear would abate, but the more we’re capable of doing, the more our fear grows. With increased knowledge and capability comes an increased understanding of just how many things can go wrong and just how bad things can really get.
In fact, as a lawyer, almost my entire job is to mitigate risk. . .which means dealing with plans to try and limit people’s fear of the future. Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of things go sideways. I’m called in after the fact too, to deal with the fallout.
Divorce. Death. A lawsuit. A will that doesn’t say what you expect.
But if I’ve learned one thing in my forty years of life, it’s that humans don’t—can’t—find joy while living in a state of fear. It’s a natural state, and yet, we somehow need to find a way to overcome it.
The world is scary.
Terrifying, really.
Bad things happen at least as often as good things.
The sky, sadly, really is falling most of the time. Chicken Little had that part right. But we can’t huddle in a bunker or wear crash helmets and football pads all the time. It’s not a good way to live.
We have to square our shoulders, hold our heads high, and march into the unknown as bravely as we can, secure in the knowledge that while setbacks will happen, if we keep moving forward, we can conquer that fear that seeks to ruin everything that matters.
1
Helen
Forty-seven people, including my parents, turned me down after I made my initial business plan and started looking for investors. Banks. Individuals. Mentors. Friends. You’d think the rejection by my mom and dad would have hurt the most.
But actually, the one that stung the worst was my boyfriend.
His parents owned one of the biggest regional banks in the entire state, and I knew that he could convince them to take a chance on me. Except, he didn’t even try. Clearly, he didn’t think it was a good enough proposal.
Finding a path forward after all the doors closed may have been the most important lesson I learned in business. There’s always more than one way to accomplish something, especially if it’s essential. I’m unfailingly surprised by how creative people can get when something really matters to them. Starting that first company mattered more to me than anything ever had.
When my parents wouldn’t loan me the money, I borrowed it from myself. I leveraged my own trust fund, which Dad and Mom didn’t know I knew about, and I went all in.
It was the best gamble I ever made.
“I’m telling you, the numbers aren’t there.” Mandy folds her arms. “Gold Strike was always supposed to be a healing retreat. It’s for women only, and women don’t care about dude ranches.”
I cringe. “Please stop calling it that.”
“Why?” She arches one crotchety eyebrow. “They call ranches that for a reason. Dudes like them.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not at all sure that’s why it’s called a dude ranch, but I don’t even care. Women are empowered now. If you really want a retreat that can compete with David Park’s, we need to offer comparable amenities.”
“You want to copy him,” Mandy says, her tone flat and her eyes flinty. “You can’t beat someone by copying them.”
“Actually, you can. You just have to do what they’re doing better than they are,” I say. “But in this instance, I’m not suggesting that we copy. This area has very little to offer other than the majesty of its unique scenery. Sure, it’s remote, but that just means there are ninety million other places just like it all across America.”
“David won’t budge,” Amanda says. “I already asked him. Remember?”
I hate the smug look on her face, like if she asked him and he said no, that’s the end of it. Does she really think that the power his childish crush on her gave us is the greatest strength we have?
“If I can convince him to sell us the Ellingson ranch and find something closer to his location?” I lift both eyebrows.
Mandy throws her arms up in the air. “Yes, girl, when pigs fly, you can have your dude ranch for our women’s retreat.”
That’s all I needed to hear. It grates that I have to get approval from them—I really hate working with people, but since Mandy owns the land for the retreat, I’m stuck. I stand up.
“Where are you going?”
I arch one eyebrow. “I’m going to look into buying some wings.”
It takes me a day to prepare, but the next morning, I march into David Park’s resort with a slim brown briefcase.
“Where’s Mr. Park?” I spear the very young, very green-looking concierge with a pointed gaze.
He splutters.
I look around, noting the check-in counter’s location, the placement of the elevator bays, the spa and the gym layout, as well as the dining options. I close my eyes and think back on what I saw of the layout on their website a few days ago. “I bet the offices are that direction.” I point.
His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “You can’t go back there without an appointment.”
I laugh as I breeze past him.
The poor kid’s totally horrified by my actions, of course, but he’s not brave enough to stop me. In life, most problems can be solved by ignoring the idiots and doing what needs to be done. I can’t help wondering how long it’ll be before security shows up. I have more than enough time to turn the corner, head up the two flights of stairs—elevators aren’t a good bet when you’re uninvited—and duck into the main administrative office suite.
David Park’s office isn’t at the back of the suite as I expected. He is in a corner, but the entire workspace is open. There aren’t interior walls or even cubicles. There are several desks intelligently placed, each of them with a person hard at work, staring diligently at screens or talking earnestly on the phone.
A dark-haired man’s smiling in the large corner office area as he chats on the phone. I always forget how slap-you-in-the-face handsome David Park is. His hair’s thick and he’s due for a cut, I imagine, but even so, it looks like something out of a print ad. The shaggy ends of it fall across his forehead almost artfully.
His jawbones are nearly a work of art, especially against the curve of his jaw. And if he didn’t smile so often, his mouth would be devastating. As it is, he looks far too approachable. Easy-going and fun bosses can’t get things done. He was annoying in business school, and he’s been even worse of a nuisance ever since I came here.
That all ends today. Once this is done, I’ll be able to breathe easier.
“David.” I don’t bother checking in with the secretary at the front.
Every head in the room snaps up, and the smile slides off David’s face. An almost impressive frown replaces it.
“I’ll call you back,” he murmurs into the phone as I walk up.
“We need to talk.” I don’t sit down. We can’t do it here, in the middle of this stupid fishbowl. Hippies like to run offices this way, as though somehow egalitarianism has a place in the office. It’s an irksome new fad, and I’m not at all surprised this idiot has bought into it. He probably wants his employees to think of him as a friend, too.
I glance left, and then slowly, I glance right. “Here?”
He shrugs.
I shake my head tightly. “This is a private conversation.”
He leans forward, bracing his arms on the desk surface. His cuffs are rolled up, and I can’t help noticing that he has a surprising amount of muscle in his forearms for a Harvard alum. “Is it, now?” His sideways grin irritates me even more than it usually does.
“It’s business.” I drop the briefcase on the edge of his desk. “But I’d rather not make it public business.”
His sideways smile spreads into a full-blown grin, for some reason. “Alright, alright. Where did you want to talk, then?”
“Do you have some place with walls?” I arch an eyebrow. “Or do those block the feng shui of your workplace?”
He stands up and starts walking.
If he thinks I’m going to follow him like a baby duck, he’s lost his mind. But then, if I stand here like an idiot, or worse yet, outright ask where he’s going, I look equally idiotic. I ball my fingers into a tight fist, my carefully manicured nails digging into my palms. Before he’s gotten very far ahead of me, I stalk after him, hating the act of following him without a clear understanding of where we’re going.
It’s not really a surprise. I’ve always hated David Park.
He acts like he either doesn’t sense the social and business rules in a given situation, or even when he does, he intentionally ignores them. Luckily, we haven’t gone very far when he hangs a right and gestures to a door with a placard in front of it: conference room.
Would it have killed him to say we were going to the conference room? I shove past him and into the room, taking the seat at the head of the table.
David freezes, as if he’s mildly annoyed at my usurpation of his seat, but he lets it go. Again, he has the air of a magnanimous king or something.
I can’t help my nostril flare, even though I despise giving signs of how annoyed I am. “This won’t take long.”
He leans back in his chair. “Good to know, since you didn’t have an appointment.”
I slide the brown briefcase toward him. “I’m buying the Ellingson ranch.”
He smirks in the most irritating way possible. “I believe I told you that it’s not for sale.”
I roll my eyes. “Everything is for sale. This is double what you paid, in cash. You can use it for anything you want, and it’s just your incentive to sell to me. I’ll also pay you exactly what you paid on paper.” I lean toward him. “And I’d be happy to buy this resort from you as well.”
David isn’t smiling now. He’s frowning. He’s even hotter when he’s frowning. I’ve so seldom seen it that I didn’t realize how much more handsome he is when he’s angry until right now. “Why on earth would you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Above all else, you’ve always been a very sharp business woman. If you spend three times its market value buying the Ellingson ranch, you can’t possibly make this business deal revenue positive.” Somehow, as he spoke, his frustration turned into curiosity.
I lean toward him. “Not all business deals make sense on paper. Didn’t you learn that at Harvard?”
He tilts his head. “I mean, if you have the right paper, they do.”
I laugh. “Yes, if I’m taking a loss here, there must be a reason.” I sigh and glance at the ceiling. It would be better if he were a complete dolt. He’s just smart enough to be a pain. “David, you don’t want to fight with me. Just leave.”
“How do you know?” His eyes are flashing now.
“How do I know what?”
He sucks air through his perfect teeth. “Maybe I do want to fight with you.”
I can’t help my laugh, but it’s not fluffy and charming. It’s bitter and hard, like the bark of a seal. “You wouldn’t make it a single round. Trust me, David. Take the briefcase and go home. You have no reason to stick around anymore.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “No? Last I checked, I have a resort here that just opened, and—”
My voice is low and way cooler than I expect it to be when I say, “She’s getting married, David.”
He freezes. “She’s engaged,” he says. “There’s a difference.”
“I know that English isn’t your first language.” It’s not really a fair statement for me to make. His English is flawless. “But for you, it means the same thing.”
“No one self destructs like an alcoholic rock star,” he says, “and weddings are stressful.”
I bang my hand on the table. “You can’t be that pathetic.”
“No?” He doesn’t look pathetic when he leans back again, stretching slightly. “You don’t really know anything about me, Helen.”
I love how it sounds when he says my name, which makes me furious. “I know enough. Take the cash windfall and leave me alone.”
“Why do you want me gone so badly?”
“The Flaming Gorge area is quite small. You’re not even a billionaire,” I say. “But you’re still rich enough to be obnoxious.”
“So it’s your sandbox, is that it?” I hate how impassive his expression is. He leans toward me, sliding the briefcase away. “The thing is, I was playing here first.”
I want to slap him. “My sister’s living here. She’s pregnant. Her friends and kids are all here.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that money can’t buy everything?”
“People who say ignorant things like that are positively moronic.”
“You want to be here because your family’s here,” David says. “That’s not a monetary reason, which is why you’re doing something that’s patently unintelligent on paper.” He smiles. “This may be the best thing I’ve seen since business school. I doubt any of our classmates would even believe me if I told them Helen Fisher was trying to buy me out of her teensy family town so she could reign supreme.”
“I could buy and sell your entire family.” I glare. “Just take the money, David, or things will get ugly. Very, very ugly.”
“And I can’t even go one round, right?” He smirks, and then he shakes his shoulders a little, like a boxer warming up before climbing into the ring. “You know, for some reason, the more you say things like that, the more I want to find out for myself.”
“Are you really sticking around here for Amanda Brooks?” I can hardly believe I’m asking him that. I don’t really care why he’s sticking around, except that clearly I haven’t yet found his price. That’s probably why I’m asking. You can’t beat your opponent until you understand their motivations. “She’s so mid.”
“Amanda Brooks dazzles,” David says. “She’s vulnerable in a way you never will be.”
“Vulnerable? If that’s what you want, I can find you a whole host of cute women whom you could save while still making a lot of money.” I stand up.
David stands up, too, his eyes flashing again. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather die than date someone you chose for me.”
“I suppose the white knight needs to pick his damsel-in-distress for himself.” I roll my eyes.
“Why are you really still here?” David asks. “It can’t be easy for you to run your conglomerate chop shop from the middle of nowhere.”
Chop shop? I should be pissed off, but instead it makes me laugh. “I’m bored with that.”
As I say the words, I realize it’s true.
It’s boring to dice and slice companies that are struggling until they’re profitable, and then to sell the pieces that didn’t fit to other dupes who think they can use them. Admitting that hurts, because it means that I’m really, really good at something that I don’t even like doing anymore.
