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Authors: D M Midgley
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checking over the books and I’m sorry mate, but the business is losing money and fast. It’s not making enough money and if it keeps going on like this, then you’re going to end up bankrupt.”
This isn’t the news I was expecting to hear, and I’m finding it hard to care. Maybe this is a good thing? I took over my father’s business, purely because that’s what my father wanted. He always told me that Stanford’s were made to be Architects and that I would end up running the company one day. I was an only child and my father expected me to take over. My mother did have another child with another man before my father came along, so I do have a stepbrother, but we don’t talk much apart from a few sporadic phone calls. When my mother died, my father was even more determined to have me help out at the office, and he encouraged me as often as he could while I was at university. Then when my father died, I felt that I had to carry out his final request. I didn’t want to be an Architect or to take over the family business, but I had no choice and this was what I was apparently born to do. Now maybe I can finally be free of the business I never wanted and find something I really want to do.
“Okay…uh…wow! I didn’t see that coming. What are my options?”
“The only thing you can do is spend time trying to change it around, and hopefully get this company making some money or the other option is to sell it.”
I fist pump the air in my mind.
Could I do it?
Sell the company and find something else to do. I can’t carry on like this anymore, and it’s not very fair to the staff, especially Claudia who’s been trying to run this business for me, obviously without much success. I have no drive to continue and I don’t think I want to. My father isn’t here to make me feel bad, so now is the time to do what I want to do.
“Okay, Keith, I want to sell the company.”
This past week has been going great and I’ve kept out of trouble by rocking up to work earlier than the time I’m supposed to be there. It’s been keeping me out of Mrs. Davies office, and I guess that’s a good thing. My date night out with Brandon was superb. He took me to Palm Springs. Since moving here to Los Angeles, I’ve always loved going there and it’s so sweet that he remembered. I had my favorite New York strip with hand cut French fries tossed with parmesan, garlic, and peppers served with spinach and green beans. I’m trying to be sophisticated and try red wine which was Brandon’s choice, but I ended up with my favorite Vodka and lemonade. The atmosphere was awesome, and I really enjoyed myself, but the thing lacking was a conversation. Making small talk is hard when the other person doesn’t provide any information or the other half of the conversation. He’s always so quiet when we go out, and I’m not quite sure why.
He was the perfect gentleman as always and drove me home. I live in an apartment off Main Street, it’s not very extravagant and probably more like a bedsit. It is paid for by QD Fashions, so all I have to worry about is utility bills and that suits me just fine. Brandon walked me to the door and gave me a peck on the cheek before saying he’d call me. He walked away before I could even ask him in for a drink. When we first got together, we had sex, a lot. Hot, sweaty, orgasm explosive sex. It was the best I’d ever had apart from the one time I don’t want to think about, but for ages now we haven’t gone there and I’m getting physically frustrated. I even had to go out and buy a vibrator, and I’ve never purchased or needed one before! Believe me it gets a lot of action and it’s stupid, but I don’t want to have that conversation with him.
I like the way we are, well I tell myself that. I just don’t want to start having conversations about relationships. This isn’t a relationship. I did tell Annabelle that I had found the one. Otherwise, she would have worried about me. I’m
This isn’t the news I was expecting to hear, and I’m finding it hard to care. Maybe this is a good thing? I took over my father’s business, purely because that’s what my father wanted. He always told me that Stanford’s were made to be Architects and that I would end up running the company one day. I was an only child and my father expected me to take over. My mother did have another child with another man before my father came along, so I do have a stepbrother, but we don’t talk much apart from a few sporadic phone calls. When my mother died, my father was even more determined to have me help out at the office, and he encouraged me as often as he could while I was at university. Then when my father died, I felt that I had to carry out his final request. I didn’t want to be an Architect or to take over the family business, but I had no choice and this was what I was apparently born to do. Now maybe I can finally be free of the business I never wanted and find something I really want to do.
“Okay…uh…wow! I didn’t see that coming. What are my options?”
“The only thing you can do is spend time trying to change it around, and hopefully get this company making some money or the other option is to sell it.”
I fist pump the air in my mind.
Could I do it?
Sell the company and find something else to do. I can’t carry on like this anymore, and it’s not very fair to the staff, especially Claudia who’s been trying to run this business for me, obviously without much success. I have no drive to continue and I don’t think I want to. My father isn’t here to make me feel bad, so now is the time to do what I want to do.
“Okay, Keith, I want to sell the company.”
This past week has been going great and I’ve kept out of trouble by rocking up to work earlier than the time I’m supposed to be there. It’s been keeping me out of Mrs. Davies office, and I guess that’s a good thing. My date night out with Brandon was superb. He took me to Palm Springs. Since moving here to Los Angeles, I’ve always loved going there and it’s so sweet that he remembered. I had my favorite New York strip with hand cut French fries tossed with parmesan, garlic, and peppers served with spinach and green beans. I’m trying to be sophisticated and try red wine which was Brandon’s choice, but I ended up with my favorite Vodka and lemonade. The atmosphere was awesome, and I really enjoyed myself, but the thing lacking was a conversation. Making small talk is hard when the other person doesn’t provide any information or the other half of the conversation. He’s always so quiet when we go out, and I’m not quite sure why.
He was the perfect gentleman as always and drove me home. I live in an apartment off Main Street, it’s not very extravagant and probably more like a bedsit. It is paid for by QD Fashions, so all I have to worry about is utility bills and that suits me just fine. Brandon walked me to the door and gave me a peck on the cheek before saying he’d call me. He walked away before I could even ask him in for a drink. When we first got together, we had sex, a lot. Hot, sweaty, orgasm explosive sex. It was the best I’d ever had apart from the one time I don’t want to think about, but for ages now we haven’t gone there and I’m getting physically frustrated. I even had to go out and buy a vibrator, and I’ve never purchased or needed one before! Believe me it gets a lot of action and it’s stupid, but I don’t want to have that conversation with him.
I like the way we are, well I tell myself that. I just don’t want to start having conversations about relationships. This isn’t a relationship. I did tell Annabelle that I had found the one. Otherwise, she would have worried about me. I’m
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