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I open the note, read it, and then lock eyes with her. “Why are you showing this to me?”
“It’s asking for more money,” she says, pointing to it for emphasis. Her shaking fingers aren’t lost on me.
“I wired you a quarter million dollars yesterday. I don’t see what the problem is.”
Her eyes fall to the ground, she swallows hard, but then returns her stare to mine. “It’s asking for more money.”
I raise an eyebrow but remain silent.
“The money you gave me,” she swallows again, licks her lips, but stiffens her spine before she adds, “is spoken for. I paid the immediate loan payment, past bills, and… The Whitney was in some debt. I’m not quite flush yet, and I need some profitable months before I can make another payment.”
I cross my arms against my chest and study the way she remains steadfast, not the slightest fidget with her feet, or hands, or any movement to reveal how uncomfortable she is. You’d really have to know Katja to read any discomfort in her behavior.
Her father trained her right.
“So, are you here asking for more money?” I ask as I hand her the note back. “How much is it you want?”
“Another three-hundred thousand. Just until The Whitney gets out from under water. It shouldn’t be long, especially with your leasing payments coming in again. Then I’ll be able to make the future payments on my own.”
I inhale deeply, noticing that her eyelashes flutter as I do. She’s composed on the outside, but I can see the swirl of chaos going on inside her. I know her. I can feel her. I know…
“Do you remember that time when we were kids and we were playing soccer in the lobby?” I ask.
She nods and gives a small smile.
“We broke that vase imported from Venice. Remember?” I continue.
“Our fathers were so angry,” she adds, her smile growing bigger in memory.
“Right. They were. But do you remember that I told them both that I did it on my own, and that you had tried to stop me?”
Her smile fades, and she nods. “I do. You always looked out for me.”
“I took a belting from my dad for that, and it wasn’t the first time I was punished for taking the fall. But I didn’t mind one bit if it meant protecting you from the same fate. I would have taken a whipping every day if it meant you didn’t have to.”
Her head tilts and her eyes narrow. “Why are you bringing up this story?”
“Do you remember when you and your friends threw a party in an empty room on the tenth floor after high school Homecoming? You thought you could get away with it since your father was out of town on a business trip.” When she doesn’t say anything, I continue, “When you got caught, I stepped in and took the fall for that one as well.”
“I get it,” she says calmly. “You’ve always helped me. You’ve always bailed me out. Is that what you’re trying to get at? You’ve always had to save me. Is that what you want me to say and acknowledge?”
“No,” I reply firmly. “I’m saying I always protected you from consequences. I always took them for you, so you never had to.”
I resist the urge to say what I really want to say: The scales have always been unbalanced between us. Always.
“Dex—”
I raise my hand to interrupt her. “But I’m not going to do that any longer. There are consequences for poor decisions, and it’s time you start understanding that and paying for them yourself.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she says, and for the first time repositions her weight from one high heel to the next. Her brave facade is slowly chipping.
“I’ll give you the money,” I begin, noticing her eyes light up as I say the words. “But there will be a consequence for it. You allowed this to happen to The Whitney on your watch. Not mine. Not anyone else’s. Yours. And for that, there will be a consequence.”
“All right…” she says warily. “What is the consequence?”
“A belting.”
Her eyes open wide, but her mouth even wider. “What? Are you serious?” Her voice comes out squeaky and winded before she laughs maniacally. “You aren’t really expecting me to agree to a…to you using your belt on me?”
