by Emma Quinn
The feeling of not facing a fight as soon as he started the day flooded him. It was a relief, perfect.
As he headed up the staircase towards his office, there was a bounce in his step and he felt lighter than ever before.
He paused on the second floor landing, looking down the hallway to see Ms. Easel and a new woman she’d hired clearing out things from his bedroom. Tiffani’s things.
He frowned.
It wasn’t regret that made that bounce in his step disappear. He maintained that he couldn’t quite regret that Tiffani was no longer a permanent fixture in his life and his home.
And yet.
Turning away from the women as they worked, he continued towards his office. And realized that it was a long hallway. And the stairs were long, too. The space downstairs was massive, and so, too, was his bedroom.
Suddenly, everything felt too big. As though an entire world was built just for him – and it meant he had to occupy it alone.
It was a ridiculous thing, he thought, but he couldn’t quite shake the empty feeling in his gut. He was hoping that a little work might dislodge the feeling. He just needed to take a moment to focus on something other than Tiffani.
He sat behind his desk and began working through the mountain of paperwork he’d accumulated. Charlotte was still forwarding all the pertinent information to him, as he requested, and as a result, he had a lot of things to catch up on. Most of his meetings had either been rescheduled or taken during a lunch date away from the office.
And in one instance, held here at his home.
Before Helen could derail his attempts again, Michael finally gave up working from home. He’d been hiding long enough and it was time to go to the office.
Or maybe it was just time to stop thinking about how his house was too big and there was no one to put in it.
Michael went to the office.
“Hello, Charlotte,” he greeted his secretary.
“Hello, Mr. Roth. I wasn’t expecting you in today.”
“Change of plans,” he murmured. “Any important messages for me?”
She handed him a small stack. “I have the rest typed up already. I was about to send an email with the messages, but hadn’t quite gotten to these yet.”
“Thank you.” He flipped through them briefly, not realizing that he was looking for a specific name until he hadn’t found it.
He found himself frowning, but forced a smile for Charlotte. “Thank you. Please let me know if I receive any calls.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Anyone specific you were expecting, sir?”
Heading into his office, he answered, “Expecting? No, but there’s always hope.”
He closed the door after him and started going through the paperwork that was still on his desk. Most of it was about the luxury apartments and the investors. Those investors were looking for updates and answers and publicity. Everyone wanted what they wanted, but Michael wasn’t too worried about it. Whether they got what they wanted or not, he would still be standing in the end.
After letting his computer boot up, he quickly checked his emails – not that he didn’t do that at home also – then dialed up Ethan.
“Michael, are you in today?”
“Yes, and I was hoping to have a quick meeting about the apartment project. Do you have a moment?”
“Always for you,” Ethan answered with cheer in his voice. “I’ll meet you there in five.”
“Excellent.”
Five minutes later, almost exactly, Charlotte knocked on Michael’s office door, looking annoyed as she showed that Ethan was there. “Mr. Edwards.”
“Ah, perfect. Come in, Ethan, please.” As Ethan stepped forward to find his chair, Michael asked Charlotte, “Could you put in a lunch order for us, please? Thank you.”
Charlotte might have muttered something about a fat man and Michael had a hard time thinking it was him, but either way, ignored her. She didn’t get along well with Ethan, but she also wasn’t a highly sociable person. She was excellent with computers and scheduling, managing all the little aspects that he had no desire dealing with, but people weren’t her strong suit.
Strangely enough, he found he appreciated that quality in her.
“Glad to see you back in the office,” Ethan commented, patting Michael on the shoulder like he used to do when Michael was a kid.
“I thought a week was long enough,” Michael said, feeling almost sheepish about the whole thing now. It was a bit of a childish thing to do to avoid everyone so that he wouldn’t have to talk about Tiffani.
“I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I am about Tiffani,” Ethan told him.
Michael didn’t mention that those words were exactly why he’d taken a week off from the office. Instead, Michael smiled and said, “You didn’t even like Tiffani.”
Ethan shrugged. “Sure, but you did. I think you’re better off without her, but I acknowledge how women worm their way in. It’s natural to miss her.”
“Thank you,” Michael said, even though the truth was, he didn’t think he did miss her. Maybe that was more telling than anything that it was time for things to end.
Changing the subject to business, because he didn’t come here to deal with thinking about Tiffani or about his empty house, he asked, “How is the project going?”
Ethan’s mood instantly soured. “The restaurant hasn’t sold yet,” he ground out. “Pure stubbornness and foolishness, if you ask me. They’ll never get a better offer from anyone else. And for what? Some little scrap of a building in a little shithole neighborhood next to a junkie’s paradise of a park? Ridiculous.”
While Ethan was ranting about how the owners were intolerable, Michael was thinking. Mostly, he was thinking about what Helen had said.
“About those reports,” he began.
Ethan’s head jerked up and his eyes narrowed as they focused shrewdly on Michael. “What reports?”
“You know, the reports. The crime data. The stuff about the park.”
Ethan’s face smoothed out, but it seemed more deliberate than relaxed. A moment later, he smiled. “Oh, of course. Those. What about them?”
“I was wondering how much we vetted them.”
Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “They’re official reports, Michael. What’s to vet?”
Michael wasn’t sure how to put it. He had a feeling telling Ethan that Helen had suggested those reports were inaccurate was a bad idea. Ethan would likely chalk Michael’s worries to an interest with Helen, which was probably some kind of rebounding after Tiffani.
Michael was pretty sure at least half of that assumption was absolutely wrong.
“I just mean that sometimes reports get skewed. Like you said, why would a couple cling so dearly to a place that’s rife with crime?”
Ethan’s cheek ticked. “Michael, what’s this really about?”
“The project is supposed to provide homes for people and it’s supposed to take a bad area and transform it into something worthwhile,” Michael began. “But if this area is already fine the way it is, are we really doing anyone any favors?”
“Michael, we’re a corporation,” Ethan reminded him. “We’re here to make money, especially since we have investors to account for.”
Frowning, Michael considered that. Ethan’s job had been to make the most out of Roth, Inc. in the wake of Michael’s father’s death. And he’d done a good job. The company had expanded, there were a ton of developmental projects. Urban developments. Things that took bad neighborhoods and made them decent areas to live again.
“Yes, but we’ve always made it a point to also do what’s best for the community.”
Ethan smiled and for a second looked as though he might laugh, but then his smile turned gentle and fatherly. “Of course. That’s obviously our goal and that’s what we’re doing here. This neighborhood is dangerous, but people get sentimental. Maybe years ago, when this couple first opened up their restaurant, the area was pretty and clean and decent. But times chang
e, my boy. It’s easy for people to be blinded from what is by what was.”
Michael slowly nodded his head. He knew that Ethan was probably right. “How are we going to convince them to sell?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” Ethan assured him.
“They seem pretty stubborn and the project is going to be difficult to complete if we can’t get their slot of land. It’s right in the middle,” Michael pointed out.
Ethan was quick to wave off his worries. “Like I said, I’ll take care of it. They’ll sell. I just need a little time.”
They went over a few other details, investors and those who were interested in signing leases once the project was done. There were some other details, mainly marketing, that they were working out, but Michael didn’t want to get too far into things before at least securing the last parcel of land. When they were done, Ethan checked his wristwatch and headed out.
“I’ve got a lunch meeting,” he explained. “Don’t worry about the restaurant. They’ll sell.”
Michael nodded and didn’t let his partner know that he was still having doubts. But after Ethan had left, Michael received an email. It was from Helen.
Mr. Roth,
Here are some reports that I thought you might be interested in. Just to even out your information – I would hate for you to make a decision based on someone’s bias.
Best,
Helen Willems.
There were several attachments. When Michael opened them up, he found that they were a combination of community newsletters, police and news statements, and Biodyne testing results. A quick look at the reports told Michael that they were going to offer a very different story than the one he’d gathered from previous reports.
After taking an hour to look through the reports, Michael was going to reply to the email. He’d started several pithy replies, but nothing seemed right. Finally, he decided it was because email was too impersonal. And it gave Helen too long to think about it.
Instead, he dialed her number.
After a couple of rings, she answered. “Mr. Roth?”
“I thought I told you to call me Michael, Helen,” Michael answered smoothly.
There was a pause, then, “Did you get my email, Michael?”
He smiled into the phone. “I did. And I’d like to make you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I’ll cancel the entire project, under one condition,” he told her, bracing himself for how badly this could go.
“What condition?”
She sounded suspicious.
“You go on a date with me.”
There was a long pause. Long enough that Michael wondered if they’d been disconnected or if she’d just hung up on him.
Then, “Deal.”
10
Helen
H
elen told him it was blackmail. Definitely blackmail. She was almost positive that she could hear his smile over the phone. He was amused. He thought it was funny. She accused him of as much and as he answered her, he said, “Perhaps. But I do keep up my end of the deal—I always keep a promise.”
She had agreed to the deal.
She was still wondering why.
“What was I thinking?” she asked out loud while at the lab. “He’s the devil. We decided he was the devil!”
Fiona laughed at her friend. “I thought you decided that maybe he wasn’t?”
“I’m pretty sure what I said was he’s actually he’s a supervillain. I don’t think that’s better.”
“Does explain the blackmail, though,” Fiona said smugly.
“Ha ha, very funny. So now you’re saying I agreed to go out on a date with a supervillain? That’s much better, thank you. I feel so much better about the whole thing!”
Fiona waved off Helen’s concerns. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Dramatic? I’m not being dramatic! I made a deal to save my parents’ restaurant by agreeing to go out with someone. That doesn’t seem on the up-n-up.”
Fiona shrugged and pushed her glasses back up onto her nose. “Maybe not. But is it really so bad? Think of it this way. You’re using the same underhanded tactics that they would be using. You just don’t have as much money.”
“I’m not sure that really makes me feel better,” said Helen. “If anything, it kind of makes me feel a little like I’m using my womanly wiles to win someone over. That doesn’t seem right.”
Fiona sighed. “Really? It’s not as though this is prostitution. It’s just a date! After this, you can tell him you had a horrible time and you never want to see him again, then remind him that he has a deal to uphold.”
Helen thought about it. She supposed that was true. Overall, she wasn’t quite sure why she was feeling so uncomfortable about this whole thing. After all, it was saving her parents’ restaurant. And not just that, but the park and every restaurant on that block. Wasn’t that worth it?
Especially since, like Fiona pointed out, it wasn’t like she was going to sleep with Mr. Roth. Michael. She was just going on a date.
Maybe she felt like she was stooping to their level.
Or maybe it was something else.
As she considered the date, she realized there was potential there. He said that he had a place in mind, but if she knew someplace she would rather go, he would be happy to change his plans. And now that she was thinking about it, she realized she would like to change plans.
Maybe she could show him why this neighborhood was so important to her. Maybe she could show him how wrong he was.
“Maybe this is fate,” Fiona said, breaking Helen out of her thoughts.
“What?”
“You know, fate! Destiny! Whatever you want to call it.”
Helen lifted an eyebrow at her friend. “Now you sound crazy. Fate? It’s fate that my parents are going to be destroyed by some empirical corporation intending to put up bullshit condos in their place?”
Fiona quickly waved off her words. “Not all of that! Maybe it was fate that you were supposed to meet with Mr. Devilishly Handsome. Maybe that’s why you said yes!”
“I’m pretty sure I said yes, because I wanted to save my parents’ restaurant. And the park, of course.”
Fiona looked unconvinced.
Helen knew there was another romance novel plot coming. She could feel it.
“What I’m saying is maybe it’s your subconscious sensing that you were secretly meant to be with Mr. Roth.”
“Can’t you go back to watching your crime dramas? I’m pretty sure I liked them better than the romance novels.”
Fiona completely ignored her. “It’s perfect! He’s tall, dark, handsome, and you know, very rich.”
“Ah, of course, rich. So we’re in a billionaire romance novel?”
“Of course!” said Fiona. “What’s the point of being in a romance novel if he can’t take care of you for the rest of your life?”
“The sex?” Helen teased.
Fiona nodded, and grinned. “Well, yeah, that, too. Which I’m just saying if you happen to have—”
“Stop now,” Helen interrupted. “I’m not having sex with Mr. Roth.”
“I didn’t say you were! I’m just saying that if you did, I wouldn’t be disappointed in you. If anything, I would highly encourage you to explore some pleasurable events.”
“We’re going to stop talking about this now,” Helen insisted and turned back to her lab work.
“Fine, fine. I’m just saying, as fate would have it, Valentine’s Day is coming up and you happen to have a date.”
“I never said the date was going to be on Valentine’s Day!”
Fiona raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say it was going to be next weekend?”
Helen paused and thought about it. “Well, yes, but—”
Grinning, Fiona said, “Next weekend is Valentine’s Day.” She looked smug.
Helen quickly checked her calendar, then cursed. “Damnit! You’re right.”
�
��Don’t be so upset! This is good,” Fiona insisted. “Being alone on Valentine’s Day sucks. Trust me, I know.”
“I disagree,” Helen argued, folding her arms over her lab coat. “I personally really enjoy sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream.”
Fiona pushed up her glasses then fixed her friend and coworker with a look that suggested she didn’t believe her.
Helen got ready. She hadn’t planned on having a date on Valentine’s Day, so she had to dig through her closet to find a suitable dress. She told herself it was just about the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and she was probably going to go to some fancy expensive place since she let Mr. Roth—Michael—pick the venue.
But the truth was, she was excited to be going out. It had been a while since she’d been out on a real date, and longer still since she had one worth dressing up for.
Not that she was saying Michael was worth dressing up for. After all, this was about saving her parents’ restaurant. If she got to have a nice evening out, that was just a bonus.
Plus, she had some plans for showing him why it was going to be worthwhile to save the restaurant and the park across the street.
Digging through her closet, she passed a host of bland dresses and skirts that looked like the belonged to librarians. She needed something elegant, if maybe a little sexy also. She finally landed on a little black dress, one that she had gotten for a wedding years ago. She had only worn it the once and hadn’t had occasion to since.
She hoped it still fit.
She frowned at it a little, not sure if she wanted to wear it that evening. But when she slipped it on and looked in the mirror, she decided that maybe it was the perfect fit.