“What’s that?”
“Water. You need the right water.”
“And what’s the right water? Distilled?”
Peyton mock gasped. “The Queen of Pizza doesn’t know the answer to that question?”
Shay rolled her eyes. “I eat it, I don’t make it. What water are you using, Pizza King?”
“I needed water from the homeland of true pizza, so I’ve been importing Neapolitan water.”
Shay burst out laughing. “You actually flew in water from Italy?”
Peyton sniffed. “It’s a small price to pay for quality pizza, and I stand by all my choices.”
The delicious pepperoni scent saturated the air. The arrangement and density of the toppings were masterful. The thickness of the cheese was perfect.
Her stomach rumbled. If the pizza tasted as good as it smelled and looked, she might have to acknowledge Peyton as the true Pizza King. Damn. His understanding of the intricacies of the art at least qualified him for consideration for the position.
“Slice that bad boy up,” Shay ordered. “All your fancy talk is nothing without a taste-test. We’ll see how worthy you are of—”
The office computer screeched a klaxon, and Peyton ran into the office and dropped into his chair. His face scrunched in confusion and his fingers flew across the keyboard. Shay followed him in, annoyed and still hungry.
“Damn it,” Peyton muttered under his breath.
“What the fuck is going on? If it’s that fucking Frenchman, I’ll fly to wherever he is right now and put fifteen fucking bullets in his head for messing up my morning.”
Peyton shook his head and continued to type. “I wish it were Durand. At least then I wouldn’t be so worried.”
Shay threw up her hands. “I guess I should say it again, and maybe you’ll answer. What the fuck is going on?”
“It’s my brother’s guys. They’re…better than I thought. Or maybe he hired new guys. I don’t know.”
“Meaning what, exactly? How are they better than you thought?”
“They’ve bypassed a lot of my misdirects and proxy servers. They’re getting closer, and…” An alarm popped up, a pleasant chime accompanying it. Peyton’s eyes widened. “Oh, sonofabitch! You’ve got to be kidding me! Shit, shit, shit.”
Shay crossed her arms. “Talk to me, Peyton. What the hell is going on? Are they through your defenses?”
“No, they aren’t.” Peyton scrubbed a hand over his face. “You see, I’ve got alerts set up on my name in addition to all the network defense stuff.”
“And?”
Peyton looked over at Shay. “And I’m no longer dead.”
“Huh?”
“You fake-killed me, but the authorities have reopened the case and reclassified me as missing rather than dead.” Peyton slumped down in his chair. “No wonder my brother’s so obsessed with finding me. All this stuff is tying up a portion of the estate. As long as there’s even a chance I’m alive, it screws up his inheritance.”
Shay narrowed her eyes at the screen. “I’ve let this shit go on far too long. Don’t worry, Peyton. I’ll take care of this. I’ve got you.”
FINIS
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Written July 11, 2018
My brain is on reserve powers… There’s only a week and a half till the first move – yeah, first move. Lots of packing to do while working a day job and writing and (my fave part) chatting with you guys online. I’ll be putting everything into storage and moving into extended stay for a month while the new house is finished. (Yes, there’s a cancer operation mixed in there somewhere. I’ll think about that later) Good news is I’ll have a lot less to do while I’m there. We’re just gonna stick with the good news.
I don’t know that I’ve felt this tired since the Offspring, who’s 30, was a baby. Moving is as hard as it looks but after a year long journey of figuring out where I really wanted to be – I’m almost there!
That’s the cool part. No matter where you are, or what your circumstances might be – if it’s not quite right (or it’s really flaming not right), you can take steps to get to somewhere else. Talk to trusted advisors who will talk to you about solutions and not about what might go wrong. That’s not helpful.
I used to think that looking for problems ahead of time was not only helpful, it was necessary. What I wasn’t getting was that kind of futurizing was stealing my present-day joy and helping me to overlook what was getting right. My head was turned in the wrong direction.
It also makes it harder to stick with a good idea that’s having some hiccups, which means I missed out on good ideas in the past just because I didn’t stick around long enough.
New strategy. Why plan for problems that aren’t even happening? How about if I wait till they show up, if they show up and do something then? Very new thinking for me. Goes against all those business, rah rah, let’s win against everyone else books, I know. I’m okay with that. I’m adopting the Anderle method in its entirety. What if everyone wins?
Frankly, if I stick to my journey that’s what will happen. Sure, there will be rough patches and outright failures but when they show up, I’ll ask for help, take in the data, make course corrections and go on. Like now – all is well, sure I’m a little tired but that’ll pass. Just going to keep doing the next right thing in front of me and before you know it, I’ll be past the surgery, in the new house.
Just to give some perspective to those who may be looking at where I am now thinking, sure, sure – how hard could it be to go from one house to the next… during the Great Recession there was a time when I was down to a bed, a dresser and two and a half chairs in a small apartment, no car and was diagnosed with terminal cancer that time. Things evolve even when it seems like it’s happening at a snail’s pace. It’s still happening, and it adds up. Keep going.
Thanks for taking
