by Emma Quinn
“What are you going to do with the restaurant?” Helen asked Tiffani.
“We’re going to have it declared a historical site,” Tiffani explained. “It means that no one can tear it down or do much of anything with it. Well, they can’t make alterations at least.”
Helen’s parents looked thrilled by the news, but Helen was holding off on her celebrations for the time being.
“What about my parents?”
Tiffani laughed. “They’re going to run it, obviously. Look at me? Does it look like I know anything about cooking?”
Helen shoved down a laugh, because the truth was, she was pretty sure Tiffani didn’t even know how to turn on a stove. Instead, she said, “So they’ll manage the restaurant?”
Nodding, Tiffani said, “And they’ll be partners after the historical stuff goes through. Just think of me as a silent partner.”
They continued as Helen sat there in disbelief. It all felt like a dream. Was it possible that everything really was going to work out okay in the end? Helen’s gaze drifted to Michael who was already staring at her. She was scared of being hurt again, but she was starting to believe that he honestly hadn’t been the one to hurt her in the first place.
The paperwork was signed, and Tiffani opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate with, but Helen only wanted to go home and process.
“Can I take you home?” Michael offered.
Helen hesitated only a moment then said, “Yes, please.”
Helen had said yes to being driven home because she thought it would give them time to talk—and maybe her time to apologize, though she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to. Was it anyone’s fault that things got so out of control?
But instead of talking, the drive was short and mostly consisted of giving Michael directions to her little apartment. He still didn’t know where she lived.
Helen glanced over at him. He was staring dutifully at the road, his profile strong and serious. He was handsome, of course, but he seemed a little more subdued, even a little less confident. It was… strange. Out of character.
Opening her mouth, she wanted to say something to him, but snapped it shut a moment later.
She had no idea what to say.
I’m sorry seemed trite and insincere since she wasn’t quite sure if she was supposed to be apologizing yet.
Thank you didn’t feel like it had the right magnitude for what was going on.
“Turn here,” is what she ended up saying, much more platonic than her original plan.
He listened and turned the car.
“I was beginning to wonder if you could drive,” she blurted out, then clenched her eyes shut. That was not what she meant to say. It sounded almost insulting and she worried that she’d just messed things up.
He didn’t laugh, but he smiled at her as they pulled to a stop. “I guess you’ve never seen me drive,” he admitted.
“Not even on that little getaway.”
She blushed at the memory of that trip. It had been wonderful, relaxing, and steamy all at once. The ideal trip. And then it had all been screwed up by coming home to find everything destroyed.
For a long moment, they sat silently in the car until finally, Michael got out and came around to the passenger’s side door. He opened it for Helen and then helped her out.
Ever the gentleman.
They walked up to Helen’s apartment; it was on the first floor. She paused for a moment, hesitant, still trying to figure out what to say.
Finally, she asked, “Do you want to come in?”
He stared at her with deep, dark eyes that sparked with something she could only describe as intensity. He reached for her, his palm cupping her cheek. She tilted her chin up and when he leaned towards her, she met him halfway.
Their mouths touched and electricity slipped through her like a wave. Her hands went around his neck, slipping into his hair. His went to her waist, pulling her closer. She tugged at him once, breaking the kiss only long enough to whisper against his lips, “Come inside.”
He did.
23
Michael
T
here was a knock at the door. When Ms. Easel went to answer it, Michael beat her to the punch. He held up a hand and shook his head, saying, “Would you mind bringing us some drinks in the parlor? Two whiskeys, please.”
She nodded her head and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Michael straightened his shirt and his tie before opening the door to reveal Ethan Edwards. “Ethan, thank you for coming.”
Ethan’s smile was broad and suddenly Michael wondered how he’d never noticed how smarmy it was before. “Of course. We were friends a long time, remember?”
When Ethan passed him, walking inside, Michael tried to fix his expression into one of understanding, or at least one that wasn’t hatred. Michael had invited Ethan over for drinks as a means of admitting his own defeat. Of saying that he’d been wrong all along and maybe a little under the pretense of begging for his company back.
The truth was less pathetic.
“Whiskey?” Michael asked, directing Ethan to the parlor. “Ms. Easel is bringing in a couple of glasses now.”
“That old battle axe still working for you?” Ethan commented just as the woman walked in.
She narrowed her eyes at him, but otherwise showed no sign that she’d heard him or cared if she did. She set the whiskey and the tumblers down on the coffee table then looked to Michael. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Roth?”
“I think we’re fine for now, thank you.”
She nodded, then headed out of the room. Michael imagined she was grateful to be out of the room—he knew he’d just as soon not spend the time with Ethan. But he felt that this was important, Ethan hearing this from him.
Taking a seat adjacent from each other, Ethan sitting in the same place Jake had sat only a couple of nights ago. They lifted their drinks and clinked glasses, “Cheers,” they intoned together.
Michael sipped at his whiskey, considering how he was going to put this—and why it mattered.
Once upon a time, the man in front of him had been one of the most important people in Michael’s life. Ethan had been a surrogate father after his own father had died. He’d looked out for Michael, taken him under his wing even. Or so Michael had thought.
It was still a struggle to reconcile the man Michael had thought Ethan was, and the real man sitting in his house that night.
“Your father was always a gin and tonic drinker; did I tell you that?” Ethan mused aloud.
Michael shook his head. “No, but I remember the smell. And the mint.”
Ethan nodded. “Ah, yes. We could never agree on the drinking. We could agree on the women—your mother is still lovely—and we could agree on the business, but never on the drinking.” Ethan laughed.
Michael forced a smile. “I’m surprised you could agree on the business.”
Taking a drink, Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He hummed into his glass before saying, “You might not remember this, but your father could be one ruthless bastard when he wanted to be.”
“I don’t remember that, no.”
He straightened in his chair, setting his glass down. “You wouldn’t, you were pretty young. You father was a tyrant. He used to blackmail people into taking his deals and wrote contracts with riders on it that left people destitute. I know you’re still irritated about the takeover, Michael, but I couldn’t let it happen all over again.”
Michael clenched his jaw but managed to stay relatively calm. “Let what happen again, Ethan?”
“Your father got soft. Soft isn’t good business. I had to put a lot of work into Roth, Inc. to bring it back to its glory days—and then you come along thinking you can just swoop in and take it?”
Ethan was standing now, pacing around the coffee table and staring off into the distance like he wasn’t even in the room anymore.
For the first time, Michael saw what Ethan really thought of him. As a spoiled, worthless litt
le brat.
Flattering.
“I was under the impression we were partners,” Michael said idly.
Ethan barked out a laugh. “Partners! Ha! I did all the heavy lifting. I took all the risks—it was always my company; you just had the name behind it!”
“Maybe you should have invited me to carry some of the burden then,” Michael suggested.
At the suggestion, Ethan stopped and looked at Michael with a raised eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t think you could handle it and after this project, I’m sure of it.”
“What? Bribing city officials?” Michael fished.
“Among other things, yes,” Ethan agreed. “You think it’s easy to guarantee a city official that he’s going to win reelection? Do you think it’s easy to threaten people’s livelihood if they don’t sell to me at the price I’m offering? It’s not. It takes talent, and I don’t think you have that.”
“Excuse me for not being shady,” Michael said dryly. “How are you going to guarantee an election anyway? You can’t just bribe the whole city.”
Ethan waved him off. “This is what I’m talking about; no imagination. The easiest way to guarantee an election is to stuff the ballots. They’re using a new electronic system this year and I happen to own part of that company. It’s easy enough to ensure a few ballots are skewed.”
“I see. And the restaurant?”
Laughing, Ethan dropped back down into the armchair. “Please, that was even easier! Most of the people in the block were thrilled to get that kind of money—more than anyone else would offer! And those that didn’t want to sell, well, threaten the college scholarships of a few kids, promise a few people they’ll lose their licenses, and it doesn’t take long before the rest fall in line. Your girl was the last holdout and you saw how that went.”
“I heard you sent goons to threaten her parents.”
Ethan shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t know if I would call them goons, but they used to be boxers. I made sure they destroyed a few things to ensure no one was going to make a fuss about the paperwork. The government took care of the rest thanks to that idiotic law.”
There was a pause before Michael said, “Impressive.”
“I’m glad there are no hard feelings,” Ethan said, smiling. “I was worried that you’d be upset after I kicked you out of your own company. But here we are, drinks just like old friends.” He lifted his glass again towards Michael, but Michael didn’t lift his own despite his smile.
“I was serious when I said it’s impressive what you’ve done,” Michael began. “It’s just a shame that all that work’s going to go to waste.”
Ethan’s smile slipped. “What are you talking about?”
Michael stood and walked towards the hallway, lingering near the doorway. He faced Ethan again and put his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you haven’t heard yet?”
“Heard what?”
“About the sale.”
Slamming his glass down on the coffee table, Ethan demanded, “What sale?!”
That was when Helen came around the corner. She slipped her arm around Michael’s middle, leaning against him. “My parents found someone who was willing to pay more,” she told him.
“But, the law—” Ethan began, his brow furrowed as his eyes darted between Helen and Michael.
“Doesn’t count if the building is a historical site,” Helen finished for him. She was smiling prettily, but it was the way a cat smiled. Like she was a predator staring down her prey.
“It’s over, Ethan,” Michael told him. “And the company’s over, too.”
Slow realization showed on Ethan’s face. Worry and anger began mixing into one, overpowering emotion: Panic. “What did you do?”
“Well, we just heard a great confession of all the shady things you’ve been up to,” Helen pointed out cheerfully. “I’m sure that’s enough to sue you over, isn’t it?”
Michael smiled. He doubted much of what they just heard would be useful if only because Ethan had an arsenal of lawyers at his disposal. It would be a money pit and while Michael would happily take him to court if that was what Helen wanted, he was sure Ethan’s team would argue that Michael was too invested in the whole thing and was collaborating with Helen to take down Ethan after being ousted from the company.
At least, that’s what Michael would argue if their roles were reversed.
“You can’t use any of what I just said!” Ethan quickly insisted, jumping up from his seat. “If it was recorded, you can’t use it, because I never gave my consent! And if it wasn’t, it’ll be your word against mine! Michael’s a disgrace and you’re a nobody.”
Helen lifted her chin at the insult but didn’t seem concerned with the slander. “Better a nobody than you right now.” She smiled.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
It was Michael who answered him. “You’ll find out in the morning papers, but I sent a press statement out yesterday explaining why I was selling all my shares. After all, I may have been ousted as CEO, but my name’s still on that company and it might be confusing why I would give it up like that.”
Ethan blanched. “No. What did you say?”
“The truth,” Michael said simply. “I said that I had no idea the corruption that ran deep in the veins of my company. I had no idea of its underhanded and unethical practices. And I had no idea that it had all been going on for years.”
The fear was coming off of Ethan in soft waves. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, loosening his tie. His beady eyes darted between Helen and Michael nervously. “They’ll never believe you. You were fired.”
Michael lifted his shoulders. “Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. My main concern was that Helen knew I had no idea what was going on.”
He gave her a squeeze as she whispered, “I know now.”
“But I will say that you should probably take a look at the share price,” Michael told Ethan. “I’ve heard it isn’t doing well in the market.”
Ethan’s eyes grew wide. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly searching it for the information he needed. It was obvious by his slumped expression and hanging jaw when he found it. “It’s dropped thirty percent,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “What have you done!”
But Ethan didn’t have time for an answer even if Michael provided him with one, because his phone began to ring.
“The board,” Ethan muttered. “You bastard.”
Ethan shoved past Michael and gave a withering glare to Helen before answering the phone. His strained voice grew distant before ultimately disappearing right after the slamming of the front door.
Michael turned Helen in his arms, smiling at her. “Thank you for everything,” he told her.
“I should thank you,” she answered. “You saved my parents’ restaurant.”
He shook his head. “But you saved me.”
Then he kissed her.
24
Helen
Three months later
M
ichael handed the tall glass to Helen, its milky contents mixed with ice and something exotically fruity. She smiled at him and looked up from beneath the wide brim of her hat. “Thank you,” she said, motioning for him to join her in the sand under the large umbrella.
He sat next to her, wearing only his swim trunks. “How are your parents?” he asked, sipping at the sweating beer in his hand.
“Good,” she said honestly. “You should see the restaurant – it looks amazing. Tiffani really did a great job.”
He nodded. “She has an eye for design. She just gets bored easily.”
“Well, whatever she’s doing, it’s great. And it’s really helping out the restaurant. My parents are slammed, and the grand opening isn’t until tomorrow night.”
“Are you upset that we’ll miss it?” Michael asked.
Helen shook her head. “No. I’m just relieved the whole mess is over and my parents are happy. That’s all I really cared ab
out.” Sitting up abruptly, she grinned and turned to look at him. “Oh, and did I tell you about the park?”
“What about the park?”
“They’re setting up a theater group that’s going to do Shakespeare in the Park to encourage people to stop by!”
“This is all thanks to you, you know,” he told her, leaning forward for a kiss.
She put a finger to his lips, forcing him to pause as she said, “No. It’s thanks to you. I never would have been able to save the restaurant and the park without your help. Thank you for everything.”
Then she took her finger bank and leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. The kiss was like magic. It rippled through her like warmth and comfort and passion all at once. When they pulled apart, the ocean seemed brighter and the sand seemed warmer. Everything was better when they were together.
“I’m sorry about the company,” she told him, and she was being sincere about it. Although she hated the corporation that nearly destroyed so much of what she loved, she acknowledged that his family had built that company. It had been his father’s legacy and that had to be hard for him.
But he smiled at her and stroked her cheek gently. “I’m not,” he admitted. “It’s hard to watch it torn apart, dissected while the people I’ve known since I was a kid are taken up on charges of corruption. But the truth is, the corruption was there, and I don’t want to be a part of a bad apple. That isn’t a legacy I want to uphold.”
Helen nodded. “I still feel bad about it.”
He wrapped an arm around her warm, sun-soaked shoulders, pulling her against his body. She sighed, happy to be there. The beach was perfect and so had the last week they’d been there. After everything had been cleared up with the restaurant and the corporation, Michael had talked her into an exotic beach vacation.
She had agreed this time without hesitation.
“Maybe it’s time to start something new,” he told her, setting his chin on the top of her head. “Something smaller this time.”
“Smaller?” she asked, indulging in the warmth of his body pressed against hers.