Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Holland

T he phone rings and for the first time since I've been trying to clean things up, I don't dread answering it. I've handled all the outstanding client complaints, made good on some deliveries and have a reopening date next week. While I'll be temporarily running things here while continuing my job remotely for the time being, I still have to figure out my long-term plans.

"Rhodes Printing," I say in a cheery voice, "Holland Rhodes speaking."

"Holland… this is Mark Thompson from United Paper returning your call."

"Yes, hi… thank you for getting back to me so quickly." I explain to him that my father passed away, to which he gives condolences, and that I will be running the shop for the near future. "I want to discuss supply needs and make some adjustments that will help me better manage costs."

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line. "All right, what do you have in mind?"

"I've been looking over our recent invoices, and I noticed that our paper costs have increased by about 15 percent over the past six months. I understand prices fluctuate, but I'm hoping we can renegotiate the terms to bring those costs down."

Mr. Thompson gives a slight cough. "Well, we've had some increases in our raw material costs, which unfortunately have to be passed down. What specifically are you looking for in terms of adjustments?"

"I was hoping we could discuss volume discounts. We've increased our order sizes consistently, and I think that warrants a better rate. Additionally, I'd like to explore any possible long-term contract options that might offer more stable pricing."

Mark hums thoughtfully. "Let me pull up your account." I hear the clicking of a keyboard on his end. "Okay, I see you're ordering about 25 percent more paper than last year. I think we can work something out. How about this—if you can commit to a minimum order quantity each month, I can offer you a 10 percent discount on those orders."

I was expecting a low-ball offer, and I've been doing my research. "That's a good start, Mark. But I was hoping for a bit more. The increase in orders isn't just a one-off—it's part of a growth strategy for the shop. What if we look at a tiered discount structure? For instance, a 10 percent discount for orders up to a thousand reams, 15 percent for orders between one and two thousand reams, and 20 percent for anything above two thousand reams?"

There's a longer pause this time. "A tiered structure is quite ambitious. Paper suppliers don't really do that—"

"I have a new supplier that is willing to do that for me. I'd like to stay with you because of my dad's long-standing relationship but I'm prepared to move our account if need be."

There's an audible sigh and defeat in his tone. "I suppose I could make an exception for you, but I'd need you to sign a twelve-month contract to lock in those rates. Stability for both sides, you understand?"

I smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "I understand perfectly. That sounds fair, Mark. I appreciate you working with me on this. Just to confirm, this would start with our next order, correct?"

"Correct. I'll get the paperwork drawn up and send it over by the end of the day. Once you sign it, we're good to go."

"Thank you. This really helps. Looking forward to continuing our partnership."

"Same here, Holland. Best of luck with the shop, and don't hesitate to call if you need anything else."

I hang up the phone, satisfaction washing over me. It's a small victory, but an important one. With the new pricing structure, the shop's margins will be a bit healthier, and I can focus on growing the business even more.

Getting up from the desk, I walk out into the shop and look around with a mix of pride and uncertainty. The shop feels different now—more organized, more efficient. The repairs Trey helped with have made a world of difference. I walk over to the equipment, running my fingers over the clean surfaces. I've spent countless hours scrubbing, polishing, and making sure everything is in working order.

A new computer sits on the counter, a symbol of progress. I've input all the old paper records, streamlining the business and bringing it into the twenty-first century.

My pride begs the question… could I be happy as a business owner? The thought lingers, mingling with memories of my dad and how awful he was to me. If he hadn't been such a tyrant, maybe I would have felt a stronger connection to this place from the start.

But maybe I can create a new legacy here. One that's mine, not his. It's but one option I have to enable me to settle permanently back here in Shelbyville.

My thoughts shift to my mother, who is still insistent that she wants the shop. Her constant pressure is becoming toxic, and I know I need to have a serious conversation with her soon. I can't keep putting it off.

The sound of the front door opening pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see Trey walking in, freshly showered but visibly tired. A smile tugs at my lips as I move his way.

"Hey," I greet him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug. "You look exhausted."

He kisses me gently before replying, "It's been a day. Things got heated with Wade."

My heart sinks a little as I pull back to look at him. "What happened?"

Trey lets out a heavy sigh. "He's still as pissed as he was last night. Ethan and I had to deal with a horse stuck in the mud, and Wade didn't want my help. We managed to free the horse, but then Wade and I argued again before he stormed off. I've never seen him this way and I don't know how to fix it."

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice calm. "I hate that this is causing so much tension."

Trey shakes his head. "It's not your fault. I was hoping to take you out to dinner tonight, but after that, I'm going to go home and make Wade talk to me."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I offer.

"No," he replies firmly. "If Wade says anything rude to you, I might lose my shit. I'll handle it. He'll either accept us or he won't, and if he doesn't, then he can go to hell."

I nod, understanding his need to confront Wade alone. "Okay. But if you need me, I'm here."

Trey pulls me closer, his eyes intensely serious. "There's something else I want to talk to you about."

I tilt my head, curious. "What's that?"

"I want to start looking for a place for you and me to live together. I know we haven't talked about it, and I know you're still trying to figure out what to do. I also understand you might need to go back to Zurich for a bit to wrap things up, but there's no reason we can't find a place right now."

"Will Wade be mad you're leaving him?" I ask tenuously.

"I truly don't give a fuck right now, but once this gets resolved, I'm sure he'll be okay. There's no way in hell we're living with Wade. We're starting our life together now."

The flush of warmth is a testament to the fact that I've bought into Trey and all the promises he's making. I've truly let go of the hurt, the betrayed feelings and the mistrust. We're in it now, together.

"I'm considering keeping the printshop," I say, causing a tiny jolt within myself at saying it out loud. I've been pondering it but putting it out in the universe is suddenly very scary. "What do you think?"

Trey smiles and moves his hands to the sides of my neck as he peers down at me. "I think you're amazing and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

"My mom's going to go apeshit if I do this. I'll never hear the end of it because she truly thinks the shop should belong to her."

"You're not responsible for your mother," he chides.

"I know, I know." I reply. "It's just… I'm tired of the conflict. I want to get on with my life and be happy."

"That's all in your hands, Holland. If she's too toxic, you can cut her out. It's not as if you two shared a close bond anyway."

"That's true," I admit quietly. "I guess I kind of hoped with my dad's influence gone, she might just want to be a mom, but I don't think that's going to happen."

Trey pulls me in for another hug. "I'm sorry, babe. But know you have a mom by the name of Fi Blackburn who loves you like her own."

I smile against his chest. "I missed her so much these last several years. I'm not going to lie—it seemed almost easy to let you and the sibs go, because we were all so tightly interwoven. When I had to cut you out, I had to do the same to them. But it was your mom who I always regretted losing the most."

"I know I should be offended by that," Trey says with a chuckle. "But I totally get what you're saying. My mom's one of a kind."

"That she is," I murmur.

"Okay," he says, breaking the embrace and taking my hand. "Close this place up and let's grab dinner. Then I'm on a mission to get my brother's head out of his ass."