Page 100 of Smoke and Glitter

I wait, but he doesn't try to explain why he didn't. He hands me the envelope, and when I take it his attention slips past my shoulder into the club.

"You built this?"

"Yeah."

He looks for another few seconds. "It looks good, Sam."

There are a dozen answers I could give him. I settle for, "Thanks."

"You have a partner?"

"No."

Something shifts in his face before he nods. I catch it anyway. "What?"

"Nothing. I just should've guessed."

I feel my shoulders tighten. "Why?"

He hesitates, and for once seems smart enough to think about his answer before giving it to me. "You always took everything on yourself. Even before we opened the restaurant. If something needed doing, you did it before anybody had the chance to help."

I stare at him.

"I'm not trying to tell you who you are," he says. "I remember you. That's all."

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah." He looks down at the sidewalk, then back at me. "And I gave you a pretty good reason to get worse about it."

There isn't much I can say to that without opening a conversation I don't want.

He nods toward the envelope. "Everything should be there. If there's anything else, send it through my lawyer."

"I will."

He starts to leave, then stops. "I meant what I said on the phone."

I know exactly what he means.

"I heard you."

He nods once. "Okay."

That's it. No request for forgiveness. No attempt to explain himself. He walks away, and I watch him disappear into the foot traffic before I go back inside and lock the door.

The envelope stays in my hand all the way to the bar. The apology isn't the part of the conversation that follows me inside.

You always took everything on yourself.

For three years I've had a clean version of what happened. I trusted two people and they betrayed me. I lost my wife and my business partner in the same week, and everything after that made sense because of everything before it. None of that is untrue.

What pisses me off is remembering that part of me existed before either of them gave me a reason for it. Staying hours late because asking somebody to cover felt worse than doing it myself. Taking over problems nobody asked me to take over because at least then I knew they'd get handled.

Elise didn't teach me to hate needing people. She made it feel smart.

I drag a hand over my face and look around Vibes. I built this place surrounded by people I trust. I hand them keys, money, a room full of customers and everything else that comes with keeping the place alive. I trust them with plenty. I just make damn sure I'm almost always the person they need more.

I care about people. I'm not interested in taking every decent thing I've ever done and turning it into evidence of something ugly underneath. When somebody I care about needs something and I can help, I want to help. But giving has always been easier because I already know what happens next. I decide how much I can give and when. Nobody gets the chance to say no to something I never ask for.