Then, without warning, something drags down the curtain, making contact with my bare stomach.
Every muscle in my body locks. My spine goes rigid to the point of snapping. I can’t scream, can’t jump, can’t do anythingbut keep upright and fight the violent urge to shiver under his touch. If I had to guess, he’s using the bent knuckle of his index finger. He trails it down, lingering for a beat too long near my belly button.
My skin erupts in goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold glass behind me.
Then the hand is gone.
“Though with Peyton,” Liam adds, his voice pitched oddly, “you never know. She’s full of surprises.”
The words are pointed, meant for me, I’m sure.
How did he figure out I was hiding here?
I flatten myself harder against the French windows, begging the universe for this conversation to end. I’d scream that I’ll sign my soul away if it would get both Rockwoods out of this room. Anything to escape this stifling fabric prison.
But Charles isn’t finished. “Well, get it done. And while we’re alone,” he adds, killing my hope for freedom, “I want to discuss our online store expansion.”
Liam sighs and moves away from the window. “Dad, for the millionth time, pouring capital into e-commerce is the wrong move. The digital giants will crush us on distribution and selection,” he continues. “We can’t compete with their infinite shelf space or their logistics networks. It’s a losing battle. We don’t want to become another generic scrolling experience.”
I focus on his words instead of the memory of his hand on my stomach.
“It’s efficient,” Charles counters. “The margins are higher.”
“It’s soulless. We should center our strategy on local curation.”
“Meaning what?” Charles sounds skeptical.
“Meaning we give each store manager autonomy to select gear for their regional market.” Liam’s voice moves around the room as he speaks. “Right now, every Rockwood Outdoors storestocks the same inventory because a head office three states away decided what sells nationally. But outdoor recreation isn’t national. It’s hyper-local.”
“But we’d lose our economies of scale.”
“And we’d gain relevance. A hiker in the rainy Pacific Northwest needs different boots than someone trekking through the Arizona desert. A shop in the Rockies should feature technical climbing kits right at the front entrance, reflecting what locals buy—not some nationwide average that means nothing to anyone.”
The strategy is smart. Annoyingly, impressively clever. Pity I have to appreciate it while standing in my underwear behind a curtain.
“I’ve read the proposal,” Charles admits. “But I still don’t understand how smaller stores translate to a win.”
“The big retail spaces are a drain on rent and on electricity bills.” Liam’s voice sharpens with conviction. “We’re paying premium prices for square footage we can’t justify.”
His footsteps pass in front of me again. I hold my breath.
“The goal isn’t the most inventory—it’s the right inventory.”
At my previous company, I worked as a business analyst, and now I can’t stop myself from imagining the pitch deck that would accompany this strategy—clean slides, targeted KPIs, regional heat maps showing purchase patterns. Business analytics is my world. Or it was, before Matt burned it to the ground.
“We strip away the lifestyle clutter,” Liam continues. He’s speaking my language with the same casual confidence he does everything else. “The generic camping trinkets and cheap coolers that big-box discounters sell for less. Let them have that market—we can’t win it, anyway.”
Charles makes a skeptical sound, but Liam barrels on.
“In place of that dead inventory, we expand the ‘Tech and Trail’ workshop. Repairs. Custom gear fittings. The overall storesize shrinks, but the percentage of space dedicated to hands-on service increases.”
“Repairs?” Charles scoffs. “The margins are too low.”
“We’d be selling a lifestyle. Stepping into Rockwood Outdoors should feel identity-affirming. When a customer comes into one of our shops they must see themselves as a real outdoorsman. That identity,” Liam insists, “is what drives the long-term loyalty a one-click algorithm can never buy.”
The older man sighs. “You make a compelling case for the brand, I’ll give you that. But the numbers need to work, too.”
“They will. The reduction in overhead alone covers the staffing for the workshops.”