by Alexa McLean
Chapter 2: Lola
MY LIFE IS PRETTY PREDICTABLE. I’ve been working the same old job for ten years. I started when I was eighteen because my mom still worked there herself and she was able to put in a good word on my behalf. At first, I wasn’t very fond of working alongside my mother but with a steady paycheck and a good grasp on money management, I was able to rent out a place of my own. It really wasn’t much but it was cheap and that made it possible for me to squirrel away from money for a down payment on a house. So, lo and behold, I have a place of my very own.
And while it is nice and all, it can wind up being pretty lonely. I have three bedrooms and two of them are always empty. The master bathroom has a double vanity that I have yet to share with someone. Sure, I considered getting myself a roommate but the only person I’m really interested in having live with me is a billionaire. He would never leave his mansion to stay at my humble abode. I always considered it a sort of insult to ask him as much.
Besides, Ivan rarely has the time to grab a bite to eat any more let alone play house with me. I would only be wasting his valuable time.
“Hey, Lola.” My thoughts were interrupted by my good friend and longtime co-worker, April. She banged on the communal coffee maker to get it to turn on. “Is this thing on the fritz again?”
“It always is,” I answered. “But I managed to squeeze out some hot water with a little bit of smooth talking.”
She shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me. All these years and you’re still on the tea train. When are you going to admit that coffee is the superior caffeinated beverage?”
“Never,” I said with a grin. “Because coffee sucks.”
April gasped and held a hand up to her chest as if I had mortally wounded her in some manner. “You take that back.”
“Not going to happen. If you don’t like tea, you can get out of this break room.”
“You wish,” she said as she plopped down beside me. “You’re in a good mood. Is you-know-who coming through today?”
“His name is Ivan,” I reminded. “Ivan Manning.”
“I know his name, silly. Gosh, we’ve been friends for what? Eight years now? I’d be an idiot if I didn’t know your boyfriend’s name.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Saying those words made my shoulders deflate like someone had taken a needle and popped right through me. “He’s just a good friend of mine.”
“Sure,” she said. “Keep on telling yourself that but I see the way you look at that guy. You practically drool every time you lay eyes on the man.”
I slapped her arm. “That’s not true and you know it.”
“It’s pretty darn close if you ask me.” She leaned back so the chair rocked on two of its legs — a habit of hers that made me extremely nervous because I was always so afraid that she would fall and crack her head open. “What I don’t understand is why you torture yourself. Just tell him how you feel already. I’m sure he feels the same way about you as you do about him.”
I laughed. “Are you kidding me? Ivan doesn’t like me like that. I’m pretty sure he considers himself more of a brother to me than anything else. Besides, if he did like me romantically then don’t you think he would have said something by now?”
“Maybe he’s just as shy as you are.”
This time I didn’t laugh, I snorted. “Ivan? Shy? Now you’ve totally lost your mind. He’s a billionaire that owns countless shopping malls around the country.”
“So that makes him a good businessman — it doesn’t make it any easier for him to admit that he has a crush on his childhood best friend.”
“You’re delusional,” I said. “He doesn’t like me.”
She shrugged, giving up the fight. “Suit yourself.” She dropped her chair and got up to retrieve her slightly burnt cup of coffee. She loaded it up with milk and sugar and savored it by the window where we could see various planes being unloaded.
“Well, I should probably get back to work,” I said, excusing myself.
Back at the ticket counter, I tried to concentrate on my job but April had planted a seed inside my head and now I couldn’t get rid of it. What if Ivan really did like me and he was just too scared to admit it? I mean, I felt that same fear. Was it really so crazy that he might harbor the same doubts and apprehensions?
“Ma’am?” I blinked and saw that I was still with a customer.
“My apologies.” Quickly, I grabbed his ticket and ran it through the system. As I weighed his bags, I tried to get Ivan out of my thoughts but he had infected them like the plague.
I kept on imagining our life together and the family we’d call our own. I pictured the kids and the dog. The house and the garden filled with petunias. I visualized Ivan with a full head of gray hair, sitting on the back porch and smiling every time he saw me. And on the nights when we were alone, we’d slow dance to our own little rhythm.
ONCE MY SHIFT WAS OVER, I checked the schedule and saw that Ivan’s flight had been delayed. Seeing those words on the screen always worried me because I knew that it could mean a multitude of things from bad weather to partial engine failure. And with my overactive imagination, I always liked to conjure up the very worst of possibilities.
Thankfully, after almost an hour of waiting, I spotted him coming free from a sea of people. He had his cell phone in hand and after a few swipes of his finger across the screen, he held it up to his ear. I could tell that something was wrong. It was written all over his face.
I hurried to catch up to him but his quick stride was difficult to challenge especially with my tiny legs.
“Ivan!” I called out his name in hope that he might hear me and slow down but I was met with no such luck. “Ivan!” I shouted a little louder this time. It warranted me a couple of dirty stares but nothing in terms of getting the billionaire to stop.
In a way, it almost seemed like he was running away from me.
“Ivan.” Breathless, I caught hold on his wrist.
He jerked to a stop and looked down, eyes widening like he was looking at an alien or something. “Lola...”
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “You’re as pale as a ghost.” My voice was laced with worry.
Someone spoke into the line but he hung up the call and slipped his phone into his front pocket. “Nothing.”
I pressed my hand to my hip. “Now, you know that you cannot lie to me.”
He sighed. “Alright. The flight was a bit turbulent and it just got to me.”
“You mean you got motion sick? But you never get motion sick.”
“I forgot to take my pills.”
I didn’t believe him. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
He refused to look me in the eye and that’s how I knew that he was hiding something from me.
With the utmost care, I took both his hands and ran my thumbs across his skin. “Ivan, look at me.”
“What?”
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I pleaded.
“Nothing.”
“You know that you can tell me anything, don’t you?” Back when we were kids, we used to stay up late, spilling our hearts out onto our sleeves. We were the kind of friend that never even thought of keeping secrets from one another. Now, things were different. Each year we grow further and further apart. I fear that one day I will not be able to recognize my best friend and that he will become a stranger to me. “Ivan, please.”
“I already told you,” he insisted. “I got motion sick on the plane. That’s all it is.”
I bit the inside of my lip to keep from saying something that might upset him. Maybe he really was telling the truth and I was just overreacting. It wouldn’t be the first time. But I just couldn’t shrug off the feeling that something wasn’t right. He was hiding something from me and it was painful to know that Ivan no longer felt comfortable enough to confide in me. Had we become so estranged over the years or had I done something to alienate him?
“Well, are you feeling any better?” I aske
d as I squeezed both his hands and stepped a little closer. Doing so, I was greeted by his scent. It always seemed to soak right into my skin and travel down to my knees, making them weak and wobbly. That’s the thing about Ivan — he always smelled like a man’s man and most days, I couldn’t get enough.
To my disappointment, he removed himself from my hold. “I’m sorry, Lola, but I need to get going.” He bent down to pick up his bag and before I could even manage to say a single word, he was gone — swallowed by the crowd.
I stood there with my arms wrapped around my midsection because it felt like someone had just sucker punched me.
ON MY WAY HOME, I THOUGHT about canceling the plans I had with my mother because all I really wanted to do was grab a tub of ice cream and eat it in front of the TV. I even went so far as to fish my phone from my purse during a red light but I couldn’t bring myself to dial her number. Baking night always made her so happy and I wasn’t about to take that away from her. Besides, it might do me some good to unload. My mother was the best listener on the planet and she usually came up with some pretty good advice as well. She had helped me through my fair share of ordeals.
So, I took a shower and headed on over to her place. She was quick to answer the door. “Lola, glad you could make it!”
“Me too, mom,” I said whilst feeling guilty that I had almost bailed on her. “What are we making tonight?”
“There’s going to be a pottery event at the library tomorrow night so I thought we could make some sugar cookies.”
“Sugar cookies.” I nodded in acknowledgment. “Sounds good to me.”
For a while, all I did was bake. I concentrated on measuring the ingredients and kneading the dough. But then my mother noticed the silence. “Is everything alright, dear? You don’t quite seem like yourself tonight.”
“It’s Ivan,” I admitted after a moment’s hesitation. “I saw him at the airport and something was wrong — it was written all over his face — but he wouldn’t tell me what was bothering him.” I pressed a cookie cutter into place and pulled away the excess. “I mean, we used to tell each other everything but lately it’s like pulling teeth. Sometimes, it’s like I don’t even know who he is anymore.”
My mother thought it over. “Have you considered inviting him over? He leads a very stressful life and perhaps it is weighing him down. Baking might prove therapeutic. And, if I remember correctly, he was quite fond of it as a child.”
“He was,” I agreed. “We used to bake together all the time. I think we were the only kids in town who would go to the library to borrow recipe books.”
She laughed. “That’s right. I believe there’s still one on the shelf over there that you failed to return.”
“Yikes. I don’t want to know the late fee on that one.”
She handed me the phone. “Call him.”
And I did but he did not answer me. “He’s not picking up,” I told my mother as I held my hand over the receiver. “I think maybe he’s busy.”
“Leave a message,” she suggested but that was one piece of advice that I did not listen to for I believed I had annoyed him enough for the day. “It’s fine,” I said when my mom tossed me a dubious look. “I’ll catch up with him later. It’s no big deal.”
“Are you sure —”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I grabbed the dough and got back to work. My mom got the message and followed suit. We did not mention Ivan for the rest of the night.
That is until we turned on the TV. We were waiting on the last batch and had decided we were due for a movie. My mother had put me in charge of picking the movie because when it came to such things, she was the most indecisive person on the planet. It was a wonder how she ever made it out of the library.
I was browsing the channels, looking for options when I saw Ivan’s face flash across the screen. He wore a sobering expression and his eyes looked incredibly tired like he had been up all night fretting over something.
The remote in my hand fell to the floor when I read the headline spanning across the bottom of the TV.
“Lola?” my mother called my name but it was like my ears had been stuffed with wads of cotton.
I stepped forward and blinked. There had to be some sort of mistake.
Manning Property Group has filed for bankruptcy.
Chapter 3: Ivan
WHEN MY FATHER DIED and left me the heir of Manning Property Group our stock prices were at their highest price to date. Our systems were the best on the market and I thought that we were on the road to eternal success. I had no way of anticipating that e-commerce would come around with such vengeance. I hadn’t even considered it a threat until it was way too late and by then it had already sunk its fang into my company, picking off stores one by one until my shopping malls became nothing by empty ghost towns.
Oh, and I tried to fight it but my younger self had signed some pretty naive contracts that were irrevocable and completely detrimental. So, I swam in debt for a while until eventually, I started to drown. Filing for bankruptcy was my only means of salvation but it left me with nothing. My shares had been liquidated to pay off what I owed while merchandise had been sold off at a fraction of their retail price in order to pay severance to all my workers. It wasn’t nearly what I wanted to pay them but given the circumstances, I had no choice in the matter. A little bit of money was better than no money.
“This is the last stop, buddy.” I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I had nearly forgotten the fact that I was riding the city bus. My vehicles had been repossessed which meant I was left without transportation.
“Right.” I grabbed my bags and stepped out. The bus wheezed away with a puff of black smoke from its exhaust. I coughed against its thickness before starting on my way. It was quite a trek to my home and I didn’t even know whether I’d be able to get inside. Knowing my luck, the bank had already changed all the locks in the wake of the foreclosure.
After about an hour, I was covered in sweat. I continued forward with my suit jacket draped across my arm. My luggage felt like it had doubled in weight since the start of my trip.
Eventually, I reached the wrought iron gate that marked the entrance to my property. I held my breath and reached into my pocket. I picked out the appropriate key and slid it into place.
Click!
The gate swung open.
I released the breath I was holding.
So, it wasn’t too late after all.
I glanced over my shoulders, half expecting a police officer to emerge from the bushes and tackle me to the ground. After all, what I was doing was technically illegal. This home no longer belonged to me and whatever I took would be considered stealing. But I couldn’t walk away. There was one thing I needed to find.
And I tore up the place trying to find it. I checked every single nook and cranny to no avail. “Where have you hidden it?” I kept asking myself as if someone might answer me. “Come on, mom, a hint would be appreciated right about now.”
When it came to searching my parents’ old bedroom, I left no stone unturned. I was determined to find my mother’s secret stash of cash.
“It has to be here somewhere. But where?” I pulled at my hair and tried to call on any conversation I had with my mother regarding the emergency money but nothing was proving useful.
In my desperation, I even tore a priceless painting from its frame thinking that maybe she had hidden something behind the canvas.
She hadn’t.
“Where is it?” I asked aloud as I sat down on the edge of my bed, head between my hands. If there was ever a time when I needed that stash, it was now. “Follow my heart... Follow my heart... But what does that mean?” I paced the room and took out my frustration on the book I currently kept on my nightstand. It slammed against the wall and fell onto the ground with a definite thud. The spine was now damaged and a few pages torn. It had been one of my mother’s favorite novels.
I picked it up and was about to go find myself some tape in order to mend it but be
fore I could do so, I heard the familiar squeak of the front door. From the landing, I spotted a couple of cops.
“Mr. Manning?” The younger one called out while shinning his flashlight into the dining room. “We know you are here. Show yourself and we’ll make things easier for you.”
I knew better than to play with the law so I placed the book on a nearby table and started down the stairs with my hands in the air.
“You know you shouldn’t be here, Ivan. You could get yourself into some serious trouble if anyone were to find out.”
“I know, Bernie, but I couldn’t let it go without one final goodbye.” Bernie had been a good friend of my father’s. He had started off his career as one of the estate guards and eventually moved into the police force. He occasionally came over for poker night. In a way, he watched me grow up.
“I understand,” he said with a nod. “But I hope you understand that we are only doing our jobs.”
“I know.”
The younger officer looked at his partner, waiting for direction.
“I’m really not supposed to do this but why don’t you gather up some of your personal belongings?”
“I don’t want to jeopardize your job, Bernie. I know that you’ve got kids to feed.”
“And you no longer have a roof over your head. Go on before I change my mind.”
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” the youngster whispered with this look of innocence in his eyes. “I mean this stuff no longer belongs to him.”
“The bank will do just fine if he takes a couple of pairs of underwear with him on his way out.” Bernie glanced my way to indicate that I should get a move on.
Grateful for his act of kindness, I took haste in packing up my personal belongings. I thought about gathering up a couple of valuables but with the officers watching my every move, I knew they wouldn’t let me get away with it. Bernie was nice but he wasn’t that nice. He still had the law to uphold.