This now was a joke considering David stole a great deal of it, but it was supposed to be a financial safeguard should we need someone to cover our assets, as it were.
His job wasn’t exactly exciting but there was much to say about the fact that doing it couldn’t land me in prison.
Not to mention, I hated my job and not only because it could land me in prison.
I also hated the warehouse.
David’s small but swank office in DTC, his assistant and his part-time bookkeeper were tons better than the warehouse.
But there were a lot of changes happening with little to no discussion. Dad was not in the know about some of them which made me extremely uneasy. And Georgia could get in her head, get focused and be abrupt or vague because of it. But her manner now was demanding and dismissive, the former she could be, of a sort. The latter, rarely.
And last, I took care of the boys and my doing it was the only reason they’d stuck by us so long. I never discussed Tommy with them but I had concerns about them respecting him enough to take orders from him. But at the very least, there should be a transition so I could build that if it wasn’t there.
“Your reward for finding David’s bullshit,” Georgia went on. “Now, like you always wanted it, you’re clean. We’ll do monthly meetings but you stay clean. Dad feels, and I agree, that we’ve learned from this that the person who does David’s job should be in the family. That’s you.”
“I…” I shook my head then quickly nodded it. “Okay, Georgia. But—”
I got no further.
“Clear what you need to clear from your office and we’ll make a meeting for you to go over whatever you have to go over with me,” she ordered. “But I want you officially out of the warehouse by next Friday.”
I nodded again. “Right, but I think we should talk about transitioning—”
“And make a date with Culver,” she spoke over me, obviously in conclusion because her attention went back to her desk and her body language stated she’d dismissed me.
But she’d again mentioned Dustin which was strange and disturbing.
“Are you talking to Mom?” I asked with disbelief.
“We’ve both extended olive branches,” she shocked me by saying. “I’m not going to be taking her shit over martinis anytime soon but I’ve given her voodoo doll a rest.”
So it was Mom who’d shared about Dustin.
And likely Georgia who shared it with Dad.
“Georgia,” I called.
“What?” she asked, locating what she needed, a folder, and picking up a pen as she opened it and focused on whatever was inside.
“Georgie,” I said quietly.
She shifted her attention to me.
“You need to talk to Dad,” I advised.
She said nothing.
I kept advising.
“I agree with looking into expansion outside Valenzuela’s territory, but we should sell to locals who can distribute. We shouldn’t put our own men there. And please be patient. Don’t push too soon too fast.”
“I hear you, Liv, but, babe, got shit to do,” she replied.
I tipped my head to the side. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“Outside the fact Dad lost his fucking mind at that shit David pulled, he’s eager to have him found and to put a line under that, including getting our fucking money back, and he was surprised and pleased you sorted that shit…no.”
There was no hesitation, no shift in her eyes.
I fancied Georgie could lie successfully to anybody.
But not to me.
So I relaxed.
Okay, maybe all was good.
“I should help transition the boys to Tommy,” I told her.
“It’s already done.”
I didn’t like that.
“Georgie—”
She lifted a hand my way. “You’re too easy on them, Liv. They’re good. They’ve got money coming in, product going out. And Tommy’s definitely watched you for years. He knows those boys and how to handle them. It’s already working.”
I could believe that.
“Right, then I’ll let you get to it,” I murmured, turning to leave.
“Thanks” she said to my back, but distantly. She was moving on.
I moved on too, only glancing at her marking on the papers in that folder before I closed the door to her office and moved to mine.
It had been weeks so it felt weird being there. Especially right then, with the unexpected but definitely not unwanted news that my job description had changed. Changed to something I greatly preferred doing. Something safer. Something that maybe in doing it, I might get an hour or two’s sleep at night, having a clear head and feeling moderately (but not completely, never that) clean.
It was something that should make me smile.
Hell, it was something that should make me twirl with glee.
I did not twirl with glee.
Because it was unexpected. And it was swift. There had been nearly zero discussion about it with me, and my sister could be decisive, but she wasn’t stupid, she knew I had the most level head of all of us and she talked things through.
She hadn’t talked it through about the labs before she put them in operation either.
Not with me.
Not with our father.
Something was changing and as much as I wanted it to feel right, it felt wrong and it did nothing to make me feel any less like the world as I knew it was shifting under my feet.
And, even more than usual, I was powerless to stop the results of that shift.
Even if it meant the earth opened up and swallowed the whole of me.