side, or at least, that was the category the company was supposed to fall into.”
“So you didn’t know about this acquisition?”
I shook my head. Fuming. Embarrassed. Trying to pretend I was neither.
Zosia drained her beer and signaled for another. “If you don’t know about this kinda shit as CEO in training, then I’m screwed.”
Christ. I’d bite. “Screwed as far as . . . ?”
“Getting anyone on the LI board to reinvest in some of the smaller ideas I’ve been kicking around to ramp up revenue. The distillery for instance. Big market for artisanal spirits.”
I groaned. “Please don’t tell me you want to open a damn bar too?”
She laughed. “No way. I aim to own the creation aspect of the liquor business, not throw people out on their asses at one A.M. every weekend after they’ve had too much to drink.”
“What else?”
“I’ve got ideas that’ll capitalize on the resurgence of manufacturing up here, but to be frank, after the chilly response I got today, I don’t know that I want to share those ideas with LI. They’ll get passed on and passed over. We don’t owe LI anything except gratitude for keeping us afloat when we needed it—but as of last year, we’ve repaid our debt. That building, and everything in it, belongs to me, Zeke and Zach. We can do whatever we want with it and we can procure our own investors.”
“Your brothers are on board with this?”
Zosia nodded. “Like I said, Zeke loves the charters and fisheries stuff. Zach hates it. I’m . . . meh. It’s provided us a decent living, but it’s never been my dream job.”
A decent living. At that moment I hated my grandfather Jackson Lund for cutting off his youngest brother, Grover, and casting him out of the family business, and doing the same thing with his other brother, Lincoln, who’d ended up with the ag side of Lund Brothers. Our family fortune should be shared with these Lunds. Did I have an idea how to do that? No.
She squeezed my wrist. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nolan?”
“Guilt, mostly.” I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “I don’t remember the last time we saw Thomas or David and their families. A hockey game probably. If not for you, we wouldn’t have any contact with your branch of family.”
“It comes from being the middle child. I’m the peacemaker and brutally honest. None of us have any misconceptions about what kind of man our dad was. He was a mean, drunken asshole. Hell, I’d’ve kicked him out of the family too.”
I snorted.
“His shitty nature was why he didn’t start having kids until he was in his sixties—my mom was a last resort. I’m glad that Zach doesn’t remember much about him. Dad would’ve beaten him down just because . . . he doesn’t fit a mold.” She smiled at the bartender when he slid another beer in front of her. Then she looked at me. “Thank you so much for asking Zach to be part of your LCCO event on Saturday. It means a lot to him.”
“Happy to have him. Will he get pissed off if I ask about his plans after he graduates from UMD this spring?”
“No. I’ll be honest . . . the reason I’ve been pursuing these other options is because I don’t want Zach to leave after he graduates. I get it if he wants to move away and do something on his own to make his mark in the world. But as he and I have discussed, he’d stay if he had the right opportunities. So I’m trying to find a way to provide that for him. For all of us.” Zosia smirked at me over her beer. “Fair warning, I will tell Zach that we talked about this so when he sees you this weekend, he won’t be blindsided if you ask him a bunch of questions.”
“No problem. And be assured that what we’ve discussed won’t go any further than us.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I will presume to ask one thing, though.”
She cocked a brow at me.
“Don’t go after any investors before letting me sort though some of your ideas. I’d like to see all of the things you’ve found as potentials. Then I’ll run some numbers—all on my own time.”
“You can do that?”
I tried not to bristle. “Just because I don’t have fifteen finance degrees doesn’t mean I can’t figure out positive and negative correlations in the business world.”