Lost December by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

want me to have any regrets. You said that you wanted me to see the bigger picture. At the time I didn’t want to go, but you were right. I’ve seen the bigger picture. And the world’s a whole lot bigger than the biggest corporate suite. Isn’t this what you were trying to teach me? To fly? To live life without regrets?”
    My father just looked at me quietly. “And what do I do with the company?”
    “Sell it,” I said. “Cash in on all your hard work. You could finally be free from Crisp’s and enjoy your life.”
    “You make Crisp’s sound like a prison sentence.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    After a moment he said: “No. And I’ve never considered selling it. This has always been a family business. For you, maybe someday for your children.”
    “What if I don’t want it?”
    He slowly shook his head. “I could never just walk away. Crisp’s is a family. Some of my employees have devoted their entire careers to working for me. I can’t just turn them over to someone else. I need to make sure they’re taken care of.”
    “That’s part of the problem, Dad. Crisp’s
isn’t
a family. And it’s not a charity. It’s a business. If I learned one thing from my M.B.A., it’s that. When you forget those boundaries, people will occupy your every waking moment. They’ll suck you dry.
    “One of my professors used to be the CEO of a major cosmetics company. He told us that he realized it was time to leave when more of his time was spent taking care of his employees’ problems than the actual business. Selling Crisp’s will be the best thing you’ve ever done. You’ll see that there’s another world out there—one you deserve before it’s too late to enjoy.”
    “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die,” my father said softly.
    “Not
may
, Dad.
Will
. Like James. Like Mom.”
    What I said pierced him. My father looked down for a minute before speaking. “What do you plan to do?”
    “For now I’m going to travel with my friends.”
    “For how long?”
    “I don’t know. Until I’m done.”
    “How will you fund this?”
    “I have my trust fund.”
    “And when that runs out?”
    “There’s a million dollars. It’s not running out.”
    “Money always runs out. A million dollars doesn’t go as far as you think.”
    “It will go far enough,” I said.
    He looked down at his desk. “I can’t stop you from accessing it, but I’m against it.”
    “I’m sorry, Dad. But this is something I need to do.”
    He looked perplexed. “I’ve spent my life creating something to leave to you.”
    “And you’ve succeeded. But you’ve given me something much greater than a company. You’ve given me freedom.”
    He threaded his fingers together and put them in front of his mouth, his eyes closed. He looked like he was praying. He stayed that way for a full minute before he looked at me again. He took a deep breath then exhaled slowly.
    “Okay,” he said. “Follow your own drum. But be careful, son.”
    “I don’t want to live careful,” I said. “That’s part of the problem, people cling so tightly to their lives that they squeeze the joy out of it. I just want to live.”
    “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
    “You won’t.”
    His eyes welled up, which I could see embarrassed him. “I was so excited for your return.”
    “I’m sorry, Dad.”
    He took a deep breath. “I can’t talk you into sticking around?”
    I slowly shook my head.
    “Then I suppose there’s nothing more to be said. You know how to get the money, I assume.”
    “I’ll visit Mike.” I got up and walked to the door. I looked back at him. “Bye,” I said.
    He was overcome by emotion and couldn’t speak. He just nodded.
    I quickly walked out of his office and left the building. Whether to fly or fall, I had definitely left the nest.

CHAPTER
Fifteen
    Unless you’re an engineer, a doctor or mathematician,
the true measure of any decision is less result than intent
.
    Luke Crisp’s Diary

    I was