So, Steve came to me one day. He was holding a manila folder and sat down across from me at my desk, pulling out the papers and spreading them in an arc.
I remembered my asking him, “What’s all that?”
“That,” he said, tugging at his tie like a man who seldom wore one, “is the beginning of your empire.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve got a pretty good line on the kind of properties you’re looking for. It just so happened I picked up a few that I thought might interest you.”
“Really? What have you got?”
He spent the next half hour detailing ten new properties, most of which were vacant. He’d done his legwork, he knew what the value per square foot would run once a building was constructed. He knew the demographics of the neighborhood and how many people stopped at the traffic light each day. He had done his homework.
“What do you want for them?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away but slid all the sheets back into the folder, tapping them on the top of my desk like a deck of cards he was ready to deal. “I’ll give them to you,” he said.
I laughed outright. “No one gives that kind of thing away. What do you want?”
“I want in. I want twenty-five percent of every store you build from this point on.”
I whistled. “Are you out of your mind? I can find property on my own without cutting you in for a quarter of my future worth. Why should I take you on?”
“Because I like to do what you hate to do. You don’t want to spend days searching for just the right piece of ground and then finding out that there are zoning interferences you have to resolve. That stuff makes you nuts—I know you. You want to be given a nice clean square of property that’s just waiting for you to kiss it and make it beautiful. Am I wrong?”
I gave some thought to what he was saying. “No, not entirely. So, what are you proposing?”
He laughed, and it wasn’t a nice sound. “Like I said, you get me and for twenty-five percent ownership of the new stores, I’ll give you these properties, free and clear, and I’ll make all your problems disappear from here on out.”
I cocked my head. “It doesn’t happen that easy. If it did, everyone would do it. I don’t want to be involved with something that isn’t on the up and up.”
“You won’t be.”
I noticed he hadn’t said there wouldn’t be anything dishonorable in what he would do. He had said specifically that I wouldn’t be involved. I knew what that meant. The question was, did I need him? This was Chicago, after all—land of ward bosses and union leaders. City Hall always knew what was going on and someone was generally already making a buck off it. I knew they had soaked me more than once to get a permit or inspection through. I suspected that Steve was the kind of guy who played cards with those types. He was tough, he was savvy, and he was wanting into my idealistic world. What I had to ask myself was, whether I was better off having Steve on my side or out there trying to stop me? I knew the answer to that. “Let me give it some thought, a couple of days, okay?”
Steve stood up, slipping the portfolio beneath his arm and pulling out a cigar. “You got forty-eight hours. I don’t think I need to draw you a picture, but if so, let me know. I can give you a couple examples.”
“No, not necessary. Just give me some time to think about this. Oh, and leave those papers behind. I want to take a closer look.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. You think I’m going to hand you the result of my hard work without some kind of guarantee? I’m no fool.”
“No, that’s just about the last word I would use for you. I’ll be in touch.”
That’s how Steve and I had become partners and for the most part, he hadn’t done anything yet that made me sorry I’d done it. I had to admit, the coincidence between that fire and the building I wanted was a bit much, but I’d heard of stranger things.
Steve had proven himself in the interim. When I requested a property for acquisition, he made it happen. I never heard another word about permits not being issued or union labor that was unavailable. There were no delays in construction; it always went off without a hitch. Quite frankly, it had allowed me to outperform the competition, hands down. Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe Steve’s efficiency had become so commonplace that I undervalued him. I didn’t like to think that was the truth. I preferred to deal with integrity, but Chicago wasn’t that sort of town.
No, I knew Steve had to go. I picked up my cell and called my attorney. He knew Steve and our arrangement. I invited him for drinks and to sit down to discuss the situation and the best way to get out of it.
I’d just laid my phone down when it buzzed. I picked it up, looking at the ID. It was Corey again. “Hey, Bro, how are you doing?”
“I’m about at the end of my rope, to tell you the truth. It’s probably a good thing I don’t have a gun in the house.”
“Jesus, Corey. Calm the fuck down! Don’t even say things like that, you’re scaring the shit out of me. Can’t the two of you find some common ground?”
“Right. I don’t think we’ve had common grounds since our wedding night and even then, it lacked that special something, if you get my drift.”
“Corey, why are you being such an ass? If you don’t like your wife, then you need to end your marriage. This bickering and tension aren’t good for the kid, you know that. You remember what it was like with Mom and Dad. It tore our guts out.” We were both silent as the memories seared through us again.
“This is different, Chris. I’m not beating the shit out of my wife. No, this is entirely different.”
“In what way?”
“I can’t really put it into words, but just take my word for. She’s out of control and she’s determined to make my life miserable.”
“Can you be a little more specific than that?”
“Every day it’s something new. She doesn’t like this, she doesn’t like that, I don’t do this, I do too much of that. You get my drift?”
“Look, why don’t I line you up with a therapist, my treat? Have a few sessions together and see what they say.”
“Won’t do any good, and I don’t need your money. She knows how to be on her best behavior when people are watching. She’ll sit there and pretend everything is sweetness and candy and then the minute we’re out of the office, I’ll catch hell for everything I said wrong. No, thanks, but no thanks. Keep your therapist to yourself.”
“Jesus, every time I talk to you, I realize how glad I am I’m not married.”
“Really. This is one of the few times I’ll say that you’re smarter than I was.”
“So? Was there something else that you needed?” I was anxious to get back to my spreadsheet and not so anxious to hear more about Corey’s problems. They were beginning to wear on my nerves. I didn’t give a shit whether Corey and Daphne divorced; I did care what happened to Marga.
“No, I guess not. I just feel like I’ve got to vent once in a while, you know? I mean, normal guys go down to the bar and get drunk. If I do that, I pay for it when I get home.”
I shook my head and grimaced at the open space before me. I felt like I had to have his back, when in truth I would like to see his backside with my foot in it. I couldn’t say that, though. “Okay, I get it. Take it easy and take the wife out to dinner, huh?”
“Yeah, whatever,” he summarized, and his phone went silent. I turned my phone completely off and got back to my work. There was something to be said for spreadsheets. They had to add up; numbers don’t lie.
Chapter 5
Lillie
I stood in the driveway, tears streaming down my face. Waving furiously, I watched the taillights of my parents’ new replacement car flash red as my dad braked at the end of the street. One light blinked, they turned right and then they were gone.
The “For Sale” sign in the yard would only be there a few more days. The smaller sign below, reading “Sale Pending” had been added five days earlier. I�
�d been left with the job of packing, taking the items I wanted and sending the rest via a moving company to Florida where my parents had just bought a condo.
So many endings. I had an intense desire to find a beginning. I wanted to offset the loneliness that dragged me inside to look around one last time before I began stowing our life into cardboard boxes.
I took a break to look through the help wanted section of the classifieds. Filled with curiosity at the myriad of opportunities, I felt a touch of excitement. I’d thought my life was already decided but I’d been so wrong. My degree was in business which left a lot of paths to follow; too many to decide in such a short time. One option stood out – it was a temp agency that worked on a percentage basis. It was exactly what I needed. I could start immediately, take as many or as few assignments I wanted to until I found something with a permanent situation. I needed income. My parents had left with a small balance in my checking account to get me through until a paycheck was coming in, but I felt guilty. I should be helping them at this point, not the other way around.
On an impulse, I grabbed a shower, pulled on a dress with a jacket and pinned my hair into a manageable bun at the back of my head. It was the best I could do with my given wardrobe.
The Travers Employment Agency was sitting on a non-descript corner, just so like many others in town. I pushed the door open and told the twenty-something girl with mousy brown hair and an attitude of enormous arrogance that I was interested in listing with their service. She handed me a clipboard holding several pages of forms and pointed to a seat in the waiting area without another word. The forms took me more than a half hour to complete, so when I handed them back, along with my resume, I expected some sort of feedback. “They’ll call you if they want an interview,” she muttered in a bored voice and went back to her romance novel. I left feeling less than encouraged, and now wondered if I’d taken too much for granted, thinking I’d have no problem finding a job.
I grabbed a small pizza on my way back to the house and turned on some music as I began assembling boxes and tearing newspapers into manageable pieces. The music was so loud, I almost didn’t hear my cell ring.
The voice was strange, as was the number, so I used my “dress up” voice. “Hello? Lillie Flemming speaking.”
“Chris Tollier here. I got your name from the agency?”
I heard authority and impatience in his voice, but I needed a job, so I made myself look for positives. “Yes. Were you looking for someone with my qualifications?”
I heard a brief chuckle. “I suppose you could say that, but not in the sense you might think. Look. I’m in a last-minute pinch, looking for an elf.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know how it sounds. Listen, I need to run. Can you meet me at the Community Center on the corner of Dearborn and Montcalm? I’ll be the guy in the red suit. You can’t miss me. See you as soon as you can get there.”
The line went dead and I stood there, holding the phone and wondering what had just happened. I didn’t have time to think about it, so I quickly put my dress and jacket back on and headed out the door.
I found the Community Center and had to step around the line of children at the door. Inside, I saw Santa Claus, sitting on a wooden chair that was embellished with gold stars and some fake snow scattered beneath it. Santa was tall and magnetic brown eyes studied me as I approached. Where are the twinkling blues?
Santa put the child back onto his feet and bent to say a few words to the next child waiting as he stood and walked toward me.
“You Lillie?”
I nodded. “That’s me,” I answered smartly and held out my resume.
“No, no, don’t need that,” he waved away the paper. “You look the part, and this is just a temporary gig. You’ll find a bag in the room behind me. There’s a costume in it and a ladies’ room at the back of the building. Hurry up, change and join me. All you have to do is keep the kids in line, so we can get through them in a timely, orderly way. There are always a few who cry, so give those a little extra attention. Got it? See you in a couple minutes,” he concluded the chat without waiting for a reply.
I nodded at his retreating back and went in search of the costume. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. There I was, a college graduate with a degree in business and a lifelong list of business experience, and my first job was to impersonate an elf!
The really weird part was that I was looking forward to it! I don’t know, there was something about that Santa that got me caught up in the excitement. Although he was in costume, there was a magnetism about that man. What’s the matter with me? I know nothing about him. To the female side of my brain, that didn’t seem to matter. He had a gentleness and yet a determined, organized energy about him. As I pulled on the tights and the green, belted elf tunic, I found myself strangely excited by him. I was about to find out more.
I bundled my own things and hid them away in the back of a janitor’s closet. I gathered my thoughts for a moment to get into my role and then opened the door to the gathering room just an inch and peeked. A couple of the kids saw me and pointed, giggling. I pointed back at them and giggled more loudly, opening the door fully so I could go in. I pretended to sneak up behind Santa and as he turned to look over his shoulder to find me, I leaned to his other side. The kids found this hysterical and the whole room lit up with laughter.
Santa fell into the role and stood up, putting his hands on his hips like a commander about to catch his prey. As he whirled around to face me, I skipped off into the group of kids and hunched down, motioning to them to cover me. They moved together, their backs facing me and their eyes huge as Santa waited through the crowd to nab me. The closer he came to me, the more I realized how tall he was. When he was just two kids away from me, he leaned over, grabbed a fist full of my costume at the small of my back and effortlessly lifted me straight up and over the heads of the kids around me. I felt myself transported over their heads and I landed next to Santa’s chair. It was all in good fun, but Santa wagged his finger at me and said, “Now don’t do that again or you won’t get any presents this year.” The kids burst into laughter and I feigned contrition and motioned the kids to get back into line.
Just as he’d promised, some of the kids were young and a little scared. I took extra time with these, tickling their bellies and telling them that Santa was ticklish too. It seemed to help. Their tears dried up and when they climbed onto Santa’s lap, they tried to tickle him.
The waiting line of kids finally dwindled down and Santa signaled me to close the door. He escorted them outside and waved, before coming back to face me.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Actually? No, it was a ball. Thank you for letting me be a part of that.”
“And I thank you for showing up so quickly and helping me out in a bind. I volunteer to do this every year and my elf backed out at the last second. I suppose I could’ve done it alone, but it just wouldn’t have been the same.” He held out his hand. “I’m Chris.”
“Sure, you are,” I giggled.
“No, seriously, I’m Christopher Tollier. And I’m sorry, but in all the rush, I forgot your name?”
“I’m Lillie. Lillie Flemming.” He jerked a little, as though surprised at something, but quickly covered it.
“Let’s get out of these itchy clothes and let me take you for a late lunch.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do than have lunch with an elf,” I teased.
“Actually, there’s nothing I’d rather do at this moment. Go on, change your clothes and meet me out front in a few minutes.”
I shrugged. I had to admit there was something magnetic about him; a word that seemed to be coming to mind frequently. I was a little intrigued and I certainly had nothing better to do pack up boxes. I gave him the thumbs up and went to the back to get dressed.
He was waiting for me when I emerged from the building. He came up behind me and locked the doo
r and then turned to face me. “I’m guessing you drove?”
I nodded.
“Do you know where Danny’s Pub is?”
I nodded again.
“Great. Let’s drive separately, only because I’m a little nervous about leaving your car here unattended. Why don’t you follow me and let’s unwind.” I nodded and headed to my car, nearly choking when I saw the sleek, black Jaguar he climbed into. He pulled around in front of me, gave me a thumbs up in the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking lot. I felt like that storied old lady who only drove her car to church on Sundays. My hands even quivered on the wheel. What am I getting myself into?
I’d driven by Danny’s Pub many times, but had never eaten there. When your family owns a bakery, dining out tended to lose its appeal. I checked my makeup in the rearview mirror and tugged my fingers through my curls just as he pulled open the door of my car.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, holding out his hand to help me out of the car. I had to laugh a little to myself.
“What’s so funny?” He wasn’t being sarcastic; his eyes were wide, and he was truly interested.
“I was just thinking of the irony. There you are, you must be at least six feet-three, and that gorgeous car of yours must be a tight fit. Me, on the other hand, I could fit in a trunk and yet I’m driving this big boat.”
“You think we should trade vehicles?”
“Yeah, right. Just one little problem with that. At the moment, I’m about to be homeless and I’m guessing that car is just about worth the price of a house.”
He turned, as if to consider it, but was smiling when he turned back. “Okay, you got me. I’ll admit it’s just a chick magnet.”
I laughed as well. “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”
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