Soldiering On (Soldiering On #0.5) Read online

  “You need to use that fancy degree of yours. For real.” The two of them had gone to college together, studying business and communications. They’d met freshman year and had become inseparable. Both were striving to do more with their lives than be rich trophy princesses.

  In the last five years, Sierra had gone on to earn an upper management position at her father’s company.

  Mandy, however, had left college and continued to work in the small non-profit that she’d spent time in for the course credits. The salary had been abysmal, but with her trust fund it hadn’t mattered. It had been a good cause.

  Until her father had lured her away to run his new Corporate Social Responsibility division, which he had created specifically for her. Mandy had thought it would be the start of something brilliant and worthwhile, melding corporations with good deeds and making a difference in the world.

  Instead, her father had lost interest in the CSR aspect of his company once the basics had been fulfilled and the boxes checked, leaving Mandy with little work to do. Any suggestions she made would inevitably be shot down, in lieu of focusing on ‘more important’ things.

  At the office, Mandy hid her frustrations behind a long-since-perfected mask of indifference. Sierra, however, had been on the receiving end of a frustrated rant from Mandy many times over. Sierra knew how much it hurt her to be constantly sidelined. And she was the only one Mandy bothered to confide in about how she was investing or donating her trust fund and the exorbitant salary she made doing practically nothing.

  “I’d love to,” Mandy replied. “I’d like nothing more than to do some real work. Good work. But I’m stuck.”

  “Get a new job. No doubt you’ve had offers. Take one and get out of that place.”

  Mandy thought of the secret folder in her filing cabinet with requests for interviews and outright job offers. She couldn’t bear to throw them away, not when they might be the only form of validation she’d ever get.

  “I couldn’t do that to my father.”

  “Yeah, you could. Think of yourself every now and again. It won’t be the end of the world.”

  The panicked clenching in Mandy’s gut told a different story. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “All right,” Sierra said slowly. “Meet anyone lately?”

  Mandy sighed, memories of that morning creeping up on her once again.

  “I saw an attractive guy this morning. I even spoke to him.”

  “Oh yeah?” Sierra asked, perking up.

  “Yeah. And then I apparently upset him because he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

  Sierra was silent for a second. “That’s not like you.”

  “I know! That’s why it’s haunting me. I think I was just so distracted by his face and shoulders and…whole deal that I just completely flaked on the whole words thing.”

  Sierra laughed, and Mandy felt her tension ease somewhat.

  “He must have been really something.”

  Mandy sighed dreamily. “Yeah.”

  “What was his name?”

  “I…don’t know. Duncan? I think?”

  “Shame you don’t have more to go on. I could have Facebook stalked him for you, like a good bestie does.”

  Mandy laughed, her embarrassment and frustration from that morning easing at her friend’s teasing. “I’d probably find out he still lives with his mother and collects My Little Pony dolls.”

  She could practically hear Sierra’s nose scrunch up in disgust. “Just as well. No man should walk around being as hot as you say without some kind of metaphorical skeletons in the closet. It wouldn’t be fair for us mere mortals.”

  “True enough,” Mandy agreed.

  The conversation ended soon after that, with Mandy feeling a whole lot better about life. She fell asleep dreaming of a drawer in a filing cabinet full of possible futures.

  Chapter 3

  Duncan did what he usually did when he was trying to solve a problem: he called his mother.

  “Duncan,” Alice Pierce’s soft Scottish burr murmured over the line. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Do I need an excuse to call my mother?”

  “If history is anything to judge by, yes.” Her voice held an easy affection. She had always been known for her big heart.

  He sighed. “I should call more often.”

  She chuckled. “In a way, it’s good to know you don’t need your mother at every turn. Means I raised you right.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t ask for your advice.”

  She hummed down the line. “Always. Though I know you’ll do what you think is right, regardless.”

  Duncan ignored that. “I leave the facility tomorrow.” Duncan stood and paced his room; partly to ease the ache in his leg, and partly to dispel his agitation after his conversation with Paul and Blake.

  “Yes, I have it marked on my calendar. I’m taking time off to help you get settled.” Alice was a kindergarten teacher, and a great favourite with her students. Duncan knew that she’d been considering retiring, but her job was so much a part of her that he couldn’t imagine her without it.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’m your mother.” And that was that.

  “I’m worried that finding work will be more difficult than I anticipated.”

  She was silent for a moment. “What brings this on?”

  “Blake came to see me today. You remember him?”

  “Handsome? Lost a hand?”

  “That’s him. He’s a little crazy, but he’s always been an outstanding soldier. And yet, he can’t find work. Particularly nothing he likes.”

  “And you are worried you’ll go down the same path?”

  “Who is going to hire guys like us for physical labour? We know we’re good, but chances are we won’t get a chance to prove it.”

  “Do you think even construction or the like will keep you interested for long?”

  Duncan hesitated. “No. I want to be a soldier again. It’s what I trained for.”

  “You always wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps. Ever since you were a child.” Fond nostalgia washed between them as the memories surfaced. Duncan had idolised his father. He had been a giant African-American man, larger than life. He’d risen through the ranks of the military, gaining respect and accolades.

  Duncan had followed his career avidly, even when he had been stationed in far off lands. Though he’d rarely talked about his experiences with his son—or perhaps because of it—Duncan had learned all he could about his father’s life through other sources. He read books and memoirs of people that had been in the same places as his father, he’d followed media reports, he’d talked to people that had served with him.

  He’d even followed him into the military when he’d been 18.

  Even though he hadn’t said as much, Duncan knew the old man had been proud of him.

  Until he’d passed away five years before, devastating his strong and independent mother. She’d recovered right enough. But it had been the first and only time his mother hadn’t been able to be strong for him.

  “Shame they won’t take a man with a bum leg back into the Army,” Duncan said eventually.

  “Then maybe you have to bring the Army to you,” she said.

  Duncan tried to parse that out. “What?”

  “If there are no opportunities to use the skills you’ve learned, then maybe you have to create those opportunities.”

  “Like, start my own business?”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know how to run a business.”

  “So learn. Or get someone that can. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that different to leading your team.”

  Duncan tried to suppress the excitement that was building in him. Surely this was a ridiculous pipe dream. Wasn’t it?

  “What kind of work would we do?”

  “Whatever you want. That’s something you’d have to decide. And you’d know better than me.”
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  Possibilities buzzed at the edge of his thoughts. He tried to bat them away, but to no avail. The idea had stuck, and his subconscious was already forming plans.

  “We could open up a kind of hybrid agency. Part temp agency for people with our skill-set, and part security company.”

  “That sounds just about right.” Alice sounded genuinely enthused by the prospects.

  “It would be a lot of work.”

  “That’s never stopped you before.”

  His mind was working at a mile a minute. “We could give priority recruitment to permanently injured soldiers.”

  “That’s a lovely idea. Your father would be proud of you all over again.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “It would be a great way to help people directly. I mean, that’s why a lot of us went into the military in the first place, but we never saw the effects of what we did firsthand. Now we could work with people one on one.”

  “Perfect.” Her voice was rich and warm with affection and encouragement. Inspiration and excitement flowed into him.

  “Thanks, Mom. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Duncan asked how she was before they said their goodbyes. She gave the same answers she usually did, more interested in her son’s life than telling him about her own. As soon as he hung up, Duncan immediately grabbed paper and a pen, scribbling down the thoughts crowding his mind.

  He made lists of the skills his friends had, of the kind of work they could do for civilians. He started on a list of the things they would need, but that quickly became too overwhelming when he came to the business side of things. He knew what he and his team would need to complete various missions, but beyond that he was at a loss.

  He wrote one thing down the bottom of the list in a messy scrawl: business partner.

  Chapter 4

  Duncan woke early, still excited by the idea of opening his own company. He knew there would be challenges, but he was prepared. He’d already begun to form a strategy. Like any mission, it required preparation and planning.

  Paul found him over breakfast as he was scribbling down his latest ideas for his future company.

  “Hey, man,” Duncan greeted him.

  “Aren’t you meant to be leaving this morning?” Paul asked, eyeing the papers laid out across the table with some suspicion.

  “Yeah, I just wanted to get all of this down on paper before it went out of my head.”

  Paul patiently sipped at the black tar in his mug while he waited for Duncan to finish.

  “So, what is all this?” Paul asked as Duncan pushed away his notepad and pulled his plate of eggs towards him.

  “I’m thinking of starting up a business.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “I’m tossing up between an employment agency for returning soldiers, and a security firm that utilises the skills we’ve learned while we were in.” Duncan considered the pages again as he shovelled scrambled eggs into his mouth without tasting them. He was too amped to pay much attention.

  “That sounds pretty great.” Paul sounded subdued, not as excited as Duncan would have anticipated.

  “You don’t like it?” He felt a bit deflated. Of everyone, he thought Paul would be the most likely to take part after Blake.

  “No, I’m sure that whoever you get to work with you will love it.”

  Duncan frowned. “What do you mean, ‘whoever’? I’m starting this for you guys.”

  Cautious interest lit Paul’s eyes. “Not me, surely.”

  “Of course, you. I know I’ll have to wait until you’re out, but at least by then it should be mostly set up.”

  “What kind of work do you see me doing?” Paul was clearly invigorated by the prospect now.

  “Uh…” Duncan hadn’t thought that far ahead, not for any of the guys.

  Paul deflated. “Oh, right. I’d be just another charity case on the payroll?” He tried for a joking tone, but it came out laced with bitterness.

  “Paul…”

  “No, it’s cool. I get it. I appreciate the thought, man. You can’t help that I’m useless now.”

  “Don’t-”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck out there.” Paul spun his chair away from the table and left before Duncan could get another word in.

  God damn.

  His excitement about the future somewhat dimmed, Duncan gathered up his notes with a sigh and left rehab to start the next phase of his life.

  His mother was waiting for him outside his new apartment, laden down with bags of groceries.

  “Mother, you do realise I am a grown man, don’t you?” he asked her as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. She was tiny compared to him. He took after his father in more than just his skin colour. No one would guess that she was his mother if they saw them standing there.

  “No, you’re not. You’re my son.”

  Duncan rolled his eyes and picked up the groceries, hefting them in his arms. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.” He staggered a few steps, the added weight dragging on his knee. “Jesus, what did you buy? This stuff must weigh a ton.”

  Alice sniffed. “Don’t be melodramatic, I just got you some staples.” But she eyed his knee carefully, making sure that he was all right.

  Duncan side-eyed her, but wisely declined to comment. He managed to manoeuvre the key out of his pocket and slip it into the lock.

  It was only then that he got the first glimpse of his new apartment. His mother had searched for living spaces for him while he was in recovery, after he’d refused to move home with her once he was discharged. He loved his mother, but he was on the wrong side of thirty-five and had no intention of sharing a house with her again. Particularly not with her tendency to fuss.

  The apartment was better than he’d feared. He hadn’t been eligible for governmental HUD-VASH vouchers towards rent, as he wasn’t technically homeless, despite having nowhere to live. He’d been out of the country far more than he’d been in it since he joined up, so he’d never seen much point in having a permanent home base stateside.

  Considering that his income was fairly negligible until he decided whether he wanted to press the go button on this business idea—and whether it became a success—he was glad that his mother had managed to find somewhere nice but frugal. She’d told him that the rental agent had mentioned that the neighbourhood was loud, but Duncan wouldn’t mind that. After years in the middle of war zones, he found it difficult to sleep in the quiet.

  It was a one bedroom apartment. Worn, beige carpets spread across the floor. The walls were off-white, though he couldn’t guess whether they were meant to be that colour, or if they were unfortunately discoloured.

  The furniture looked a few decades old, but it was well-made, not IKEA stuff, and had clearly been well-tended. The kitchen was practically empty save for a few necessities, just how he liked it.

  “It’s perfect.”

  A sly smile kicked up the corners of Alice’s mouth. She knew him well. “I’m glad.”

  The two of them began unpacking, going slower than Duncan would like because of his leg. The frequent breaks were as frustrating as they were necessary.

  “Have you thought any more about the business idea?” Alice asked conversationally as she hung his clothes in the creaking wardrobe.

  Duncan folded another t-shirt. Neatness was ingrained in him after so many years in the Army.

  “Yeah. It’ll be a steep learning curve, though. And we’ll need investors. I’ve created a list of the bare minimum of equipment we’ll need and it’ll cost more than I can get with a business loan.”

  His mother nodded sagely. “An investor with experience in business would be useful. Someone to help get you started. Even a partner.”

  Duncan considered this. “You could be right. I’d loathe to turn over any control, though. The whole point is that I need to run it my way, otherwise the guys will be right back where they started.”


  “You don’t think someone else can do it?”

  “No one else will know what they need, or be invested in finding them the right place. That’s the trouble they are in now—the people that are trying to help aren’t taking their wants and needs into account. I don’t want some upstart partner to come in and impose their will on my vision. It wouldn’t work.”

  “You just need to find the right partner,” she murmured.

  Duncan pondered this as they moved to the kitchen to unpack the rest of the groceries. Alice was threatening to cook Duncan lunch when he finally managed to shoo her out. After fixing himself a sandwich—with the fancy bakery bread that she’d bought him—he explored the little apartment some more.

  Soon enough, though, his eyes were drawn back to his notebook, and he couldn’t resist the lure of his new business plan.

  Chapter 5

  The crisp click of Mandy’s heels against the faux-wood floors of her father’s company gave her the confidence she needed for this meeting. She’d always loved the sound. It made her feel powerful in her femininity, like she could take over the world while striding through the wreckage she left behind in her expensive L.K. Bennett stilettos.

  She needed that today.

  It wasn’t every day she was called into her father’s office. In fact, they rarely saw each other despite working on the same floor. But Mandy had recently submitted a proposal to make the company more sustainable, and saving money in the process, as the first step in a master plan to reposition the company as an environmentally friendly business.

  She hoped that he would approve it. There was no reason for him not to, considering the long-term savings it would engender. Her father was nothing if not money-conscious.

  If he did sign off on the proposal, it would be Mandy’s first coup since joining the company three years ago. Everything else she’d suggested had been knocked back or cut down.

  This, though, she was sure would win his approval.

  More than anything, Mandy wanted to make a positive difference. Environmentalism, humanitarianism, all of it. It was why, when her father asked her to join his company, she’d told him she wouldn’t until he created a CSR division. He’d lured her away from her job at a small-time charity to do it, but she’d agreed, thinking she could make more positive changes with the influence of the company behind her. So far, she’d had no such luck.