by Sophia Gray
I winced. That was exactly where I’d gone with that reasoning, too. Sighing, I said, “So it’s a bad idea, right?”
“No, it’s a horrible idea! It’s the worst thing you could do to yourself and this shop, Diana, you know that. You know what I heard?”
“Do I want to?” I asked bleakly, no longer interested in my half-eaten sandwich. I drank a little water instead, because my mouth suddenly felt like a desert.
“He’s a drug dealer, Diana,” she told me bluntly. I could always count on Jessie for some up front honesty. “He uses his diner as a cover to store and deal his drugs. Think about it. It’s a prime location, with all those truckers stopping by on their way in and out of town. Tons of movement going on there and hard to trace, right? After all, it could be any of those guys hauling drugs and they make stops across the country.”
Sighing, I nodded. Nothing about this was surprising to me. I may not have had the specifics, but I knew Ethan was bad news. And it settled things for me. If it really had been just about storing some frozen chicken until he needed it, that would be one thing, but drugs? I couldn’t let The Cut be a cover for that kind of illicit operation.
I had a son to think of. If I got busted with those kinds of drugs…what would happen to Cody? Would his deadbeat dad magically appear out of nowhere, riding in on some white horse, to scoop Cody up and take him to a better life? Probably not. I’d long since stopped waiting around for Collin to show up again.
No, Cody would end up in foster care. The very best I could hope for is that Jessie would be able to take him, but I knew what she made. It was barely enough for herself, and it was contingent on the success of The Cut. And even if that all somehow worked out, I would never see him again.
Never.
The thought put my stomach in knots. I felt so awful that I almost felt sick.
No, I couldn’t let any of that happen. I would have to tell Ethan no. It didn’t matter how much money he paid me. It wouldn’t be worth my life and the life of my kid. Cody always had to come first.
We finished our lunches in silence, then I opened up the shop again. Jessie went back to the register, taking calls, making appointments, and helping people on the convenience store side. She really was a lifesaver. Worth three employees for the price of one and if I could give the woman a raise, I would.
She went to pick up Cody a couple of hours later and brought him back to The Cut. I spent some time with him, but I ended up being pretty busy. Jessie entertained him, though, and let him draw all over the sticky notes she’d pasted across the register.
I watched them in a daze, telling myself the money wasn’t worth the risk. But the honest money I was making barely cut it, and that was hard to know.
I had several more appointments and two walk-ins. Everyone was talkative, but I wasn’t, so I mostly let my clients ramble away. I had other things on my mind. I’d have to call Ethan. Tell him my decision, which was a resolute no. But I’d have to have a reason and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t fly to tell him I thought he was a drug dealer who wanted to use my drug free, completely by the books store as a cover for his operation.
Yeah, that would go over like a lead balloon.
When I was finally done with customers, we closed up shop. Jessie cashed out the register while I cleaned up. Cody insisted on helping, so I let him sweep the floors. He made more of a mess than he cleaned up, but I appreciated his effort. He was a sweet kid and I was so proud of him.
He’ll be a good man, I thought to myself.
We were ready to head out in an hour. I dropped Jessie off, then went home with Cody. I still had dishes from that morning to do, but the laundry could wait another day and I had leftovers to reheat for dinner, so I was in good shape. Which meant I had no excuse to not call Ethan Chambers and tell him my decision.
“Are we going to have mac ‘n cheese every night, Mom?”
I glanced up from my plate of congealed cheese and elbow noodles. I looked at my son’s wide, round face. His hair was sticking up again, that little cowlick in the front just a single curl that came down farther and to the left while everything else went right. “No, honey. We’ll…we’ll do spaghetti tomorrow, okay?”
“That’s okay. I like mac ‘n cheese. I think everyone should have it like we do.” He dug into his noodles for emphasis, scooping a huge bite into his mouth.
The whole thing tugged at my heart a little, because I knew he was being honest. He loved the blue box special, as my mother used to call it. But we’d had mac ‘n cheese four out of five nights this week because I didn’t have the money for much else.
It was pancakes for breakfast, because I’d gotten a sale on the big box of mix last shopping trip. And it was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, because a little goes a long way and I could get both peanut butter and jelly for a good price thanks to the convenience store. But he deserved variety and, god, I was tired of the damn orange cheese.
You could use that money, a traitorous little voice whispered in the back of my head. I shoved it aside, forcing myself to picture what would happen to the boy sitting in front of me if I got caught storing Ethan’s drugs.
Instead, I focused on my son. I watched him pile macaroni onto his spoon, using his fingers to keep it in place, and shoveling it into his mouth as only a little boy can do. My heart clenched at his innocence, his sweetness, and I felt tears prick at my eyes. I told myself everything was going to be okay. All I had to do was keep being a good mom to him and that meant keeping my nose out of the business of people like Ethan Chambers.
”I love you, honey,” I told Cody.
He smiled at me across the table and with a mouth full of fake cheesy goodness, he responded with, “I love you, too, Mommy.”
I promised myself that after dinner I would make the call to tell Ethan I wouldn’t do it. Nothing good could come from saying yes.
Chapter 3
Cody was working on what qualified as homework for a six-year-old. I could hear him laughing in the living room as I filled up the sink to let the dishes soak. When they were submerged under scalding hot, soapy water, I checked on Cody once more and then headed into the hall with my phone. I didn’t exactly want to call Ethan Chambers tonight—or any other night—but I would. Clutching the card he’d given me tightly in my hand, I dialed the number on it with trembling fingers.
I will not be afraid of Ethan Chambers, I told myself firmly, for all the good it would do. I was already petrified and I knew it. He probably did, too.
The phone rang a couple of times before I heard it click as someone on the other end picked up. “Chambers,” he said simply, his voice deep and rich. It could have been a nice voice if it weren’t attached to such a horrible man.
Clearing my throat, I said, “It’s Diana. Diana Leone.” I paused a beat, then added, “The owner of The Cut?”
“I know who you are, Diana Leone,” Chambers answered with what I imagined as an amused smile on his handsome face. “I have to assume you’re calling about my offer.”
My stomach knotted with nervousness. People didn’t just turn down Ethan Chambers and that was exactly what I was about to do. “Yes,” I answered, struggling to get out anymore.
“Have you had time to think it over?”
I swallowed and took a deep breath. Then I forced myself to answer. “Yes, I have. I’ve…I’ve made up my mind.”
“And?” he prompted when I left that statement hanging in the stretch of empty airspace between us.
“While your offer is very generous, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”
There was a long pause, then, “What?”
I pulled myself up taller, even though he couldn’t see me. “I can’t do the deal, Mr. Chambers. I really just can’t.”
There was a silence long enough that I thought he’d just hung up on me, but then I heard his low, deep voice. And this time, it wasn’t so pleasant. “Is there a particular reason you’re declining, Diana, my dear?”
&n
bsp; I didn’t like that he was using my first name while I was still trying to be businesslike. It told me that he didn’t care about business so much. Instead, my turning him down…it was personal. And that wasn’t good.
Just tell him you can’t because of legal reasons. He’ll have to go along with that, right?
“It’s just that there’s so much red tape, and I’d have to ask my lawyer about subletting because I just don’t know anything about it, and I run a clean, legitimate establishment and I—” I was rambling so fast, the pace matching the heavy thumping of my heart. I tried to slow down and enunciate, to sound like I was in control, but, really, I was scared. This man had power and connections and I didn’t want him making trouble for me. Which was why I continued to spew excuses at him over the phone.
“Jesus Christ, woman!” he finally burst in, his voice raising in volume quickly. “You don’t need to bring fucking lawyers into this. You don’t need to be talking to anyone about anything. This is just a friendly business deal between two friends. An arrangement on a handshake. I mean, damn, this doesn’t have to be complicated.”
I recoiled at his sudden intensity and anger. I was grateful that he couldn’t see me, the phone effectively hiding me and my cowardice. It was the only way I maintained the strength in my voice when I told him, “I appreciate the offer, but I just can’t take risks with my business right now.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he spat at me, his tone going from high volume to low again. But this time it was silky with the promise of danger. “You need the money. I know you do. Everyone needs the fucking money.”
I swallowed. “I can do without it.” And I could. I would. I’d made it this far and I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me into doing something that I wasn’t comfortable with.
“Listen, woman, no one’s going to be bothered if you’re doing a little bit of extra business on the side. All you’re doing is renting out a storage room, not letting some criminal take up residence there on a six month lease.”
“I’m sorry, but my answer’s still no.”
“This isn’t over, Diana Leone,” he said and this time the threat was clear.
“Yes, it is.”
Before he could yell at me further or call me woman one more time, I hung up the phone. For several long seconds, there was silence in the hallway that was heavy with what I’d just done.
It was the right thing. I was sure of it. He’d have run me into the ground with his drugs and the dangerous people that came along with that. The money couldn’t be worth it. But even knowing I’d done the right thing didn’t do much to settle my hammering heart or to untangle the twisted knots in my stomach.
Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the wall, pulling in deep, slow breaths in an effort to calm myself. Everything will be okay, I promised myself silently. Everything’s going to be fine. This’ll all blow over.
I stayed there for a while until I heard, “Momma? What are you doing?”
Startled out of my stupor, my eyes snapped open and I looked over to see my son standing at the opening of the hall, holding his workbook. It was one of those big books that taught kids to write the letters and keep them between the lines.
Smiling, I asked, “Cody, are you all done with your homework?”
He smiled widely at me and held up his book, opening it wide at the spine to where he’d been working. He’d written in crayon, even though he was supposed to be using pencil, but I didn’t have the heart to scold him for it. The teacher could get over it.
“That’s such a good job, honey!” I said with a smile, pushing away from the wall and heading over to him. I knelt and took the book from him, flipping through the three pages he had to do. His letters were sloppy, the crayon clearly going out of the lines and not quite connecting where they should be. But he was a fast learner and he’d be writing sentences before I knew it, so I meant it when I said he’d done a good job.
“Does this mean I get an extra-long story tonight?” He looked up at me with those huge eyes, his smile wide and hopeful. He loved his damn stories and if I was being honest with myself, they were one of my favorite parts of the day, too.
Rolling my eyes at him, I feigned annoyance with a large sigh. “Oh, all right. I suppose.” Then I grinned at him. When I reached out my hands, I caught him about the middle and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. He let out a squeal and a laugh, batting at my hands. “But you’d better get your stuff packed up first and I want some pearly white teeth before you get into bed, understand?”
He saluted me with the wrong hand and said, “Aye, aye, Captain!” Then he whirled around and made a break for the living room, presumably to grab his things for school tomorrow. I watched him go, feeling a little shaken. I wanted to push Ethan Chambers completely from my mind, but it was impossible. He’d cast a raincloud over my day and I could only hope that tomorrow it would go away.
Chapter 4
The next few days were normal. So normal that the whole thing with Ethan seemed surreal. Maybe it hadn’t happened at all. Maybe it was all just a little blip of insanity in my brain and now I was all better.
Except the day after it happened, Jessie cornered me as soon as Cody was in school and asked, “Well? Did you call Ethan?”
Sighing, I nodded my head. “Yeah, I did.”
She let out a low whistle. “Damn. You’re braver than I am. I don’t think I would have been able to talk to him, not even over the phone. Especially over the phone. All that gorgeous body and you don’t even get to see it. Talk about getting all the bad and none of the good.”
I managed a bark of a laugh. “No kidding.” I didn’t tell her that I happened to find his voice devilishly attractive, too, but that wasn’t the point.
“So how did he take it?” she asked as we headed to The Cut to start our day. “I mean, he couldn’t have just been super happy fun guy about it.”
I shook my head. “Uh, that would be a resounding no. He was not happy.”
We went inside and Jessie automatically began to set up while I grabbed some of the stock from the back. I glanced at the extra space there, recalling Ethan’s offer and feeling a chill trip down my spine.
“But what did he say?” Jessie prodded as she counted the safe and brought out the drawer for the lone register.
I rehashed our conversation, leaving out the half dozen times he called me “woman” and the “fucks.” It wasn’t that I didn’t swear, but I tried to keep it to a minimum so I didn’t accidentally teach some inappropriate things to my six-year-old. That would definitely not be mommy of the year material.
“Jesus, he actually said ‘this isn’t over’? Like some mobster with a pinstriped suit and a tommy gun?” Jessie asked incredulously. She shook her head. “He’s something else.”
I couldn’t agree more.
After that conversation, nearly three days ago now, I didn’t so much as hear mention of Ethan Chambers’ name. Nothing about the storage unit or phone calls warning me that this wasn’t over. Nothing. So much nothing that I fell back into my old life without a hitch.
Drop off Cody. Open up the Cut. Talk to a bunch of old ladies about how things were different when they were young ladies. Close up shop. Go home with Cody. Normal.
Except I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d crossed some invisible line into dangerous territory and didn’t know it yet. It’s the same feeling someone might get if they were being watched from a distance. Maybe they couldn’t see who was watching them, but they could sense he was there.
After Cody was tucked into bed that night, I dallied around the apartment. I did dishes and laundry and pre-packed Cody’s lunch for the next day. It was all little stuff that could have waited until the next day, but tonight I knew I was going to have trouble sleeping.
I should have been relieved that the whole brief encounter with Ethan was over. Instead, I was paranoid. Paranoid that, at any moment, he might show up here and tell me I’d crossed the wrong man. That he’d burst
into the door and tell me I’d regret my decision.
“He’s not here. The whole thing’s over. Let it go,” I told myself when I’d finished the last of my chores. There was really nothing left to do but get some sleep. Sighing, I chastised myself again for being so jittery about the whole thing. After checking one more time on Cody, I went to my own bedroom and crawled beneath the covers.
Lying on my back, I stared at the ceiling, picturing Ethan’s sly smile and hearing his smooth, deep voice. The same voice that had made it clear that I was making a big mistake.
But was I?
“No,” I whispered to the ceiling with as much conviction as I could muster. “I’m doing the right thing.”
Then I turned over and closed my eyes. I had to count sheep up into the hundreds, but, after a while, I finally fell asleep.