More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,75
shitting me.”
“About the college money, maybe. But not about the place.”
I look at my mum. “You knew about this?”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Of course I did. So did you. We talked about this weeks ago, Lukas.”
“But, Dad, you got all mad that we wouldn’t advertise on the podcast,” I point out.
“Well, yeah, I did. But that’s not keeping us from buying the place. No offense, but a stubborn teenager isn’t enough to halt business.”
“Better a stubborn teenager than a sullen old man,” I can’t help but say.
“Watch it, youngster. I was kidding about the college money, but I’m not above holding back your allowance.”
“Dad, I have a job.”
“Right, right. The job. The ever-important bartender gig.”
I shove the Tupperware away. “I ate before I got home,” I lie. “I have homework to do.”
“Not so fast. You and your brother are coming with. This is family business. You’re both old enough to contribute and participate.”
“Dad, we’re a month out from graduation. Cullen is going to school in New York, and I’m going out west. We won’t even be here to contribute.”
“You don’t leave for several months, and anyway, I plan for this place to be around after you finish university.”
“That’s fine, Dad, but this is your thing. Just like punk bands and refurbishing pallets and writing that YA novel about aliens and teaching pottery at the community center. All very valid and amazing pursuits, but they are yours. Not Mum’s, not Cullen’s, and not mine.”
“Is this about the podcast thing? I talked to my partners. I told them you weren’t comfortable advertising while employed by Phil. It was tacky of me to ask. Son, it’s fine if you want to wait until after the Bad Apple is built to quit.”
I slam my fist down, impatient. “Who said I was quitting?”
My dad huffs out an exasperated laugh. “What’re you talking about? Of course you’ll quit. You can’t work at a competing club.”
“Then don’t compete with Phil!”
My mum fills a glass with water and hands it to me like my outburst is from dehydration. I ignore it. I appreciate how uncomfortable our fighting makes her, but I’m tired of being bulldozed by my dad for the last eighteen years. From playing music, to skateboarding, to liking the right girls. He’s always standing over my shoulder, feeding me his opinions. It’s stupid, but working at the Loud Lizard is the first decision I’ve made 100 percent on my own. I don’t want to give it up just because, once again, Charlie Greenly has a grand idea.
“You think I’m trying to replace Phil?”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I mean. No. I don’t think you are trying to replace Phil, but I wonder if your investors are. Think about it, Dad; there’s not enough capital in this town to fund two rock venues.”
“It’s not my fault the Loud Lizard is a failing club.”
“I realize that.”
“I’m not going to keep away out of courtesy so someone else can limp along.”
“Fine.”
My father’s sigh is long suffering, and he rakes a hand through his hair. “What would you have me do, Luke?”
“I’d have you think of someone besides yourself for once,” is all I say, and I turn for the stairs.
Minutes later, I hear the front door slam, and I watch the car back out of the driveway, my entire family inside, minus me.
* * *
The next day, during a lull at work, I knock on Phil’s office door. I wait for the muffled “Come in!” and push open the door.
He’s at his desk, just hanging up his phone when he sees me. He leans back in his chair, which gives a loud creak, his face impassive.
“I have something to tell you,” I say.
“Is it about Vada?”
I lift my eyes, surprised. “What? No. Why?”
He raises a brow over his bifocals and settles back in his chair with a creak. “No reason. So, this is about your dad’s club, then. Are you coming to offer your resignation?”
“How’d you know about the club?”
Phil gestures at his desktop. “It’s been all over the news, kid. What do you guys read on your phones all day?”
“You know, and you haven’t fired me?”
“Why the hell would I fire you? You’ve given me no reason.”
“Except my dad’s investing in a rival club that could put you out of business.”
“Correction,” Phil says, exhaling painfully. “It will definitely put me out of business. It’s honestly a shock we’ve made it this far, Luke. I would’ve gone out of business years ago, if