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EDEN
The chimesover the door tingled as it opened. Not sparing a glance from the row of items I was in the middle of counting, I called out, “We’re not open for another half hour.”
When an echoing chime wasn’t forthcoming, my attention was drawn to discover who had entered. Except, the threshold was empty. I was about to return to counting when the broom behind me suddenly dropped to the floor, making me jump and spin around. Three men stood in the back doorway of my shop, looking disgusted by the femininity of the place.
“Can I help you?” I tried again to elicit some response as I placed the necklace and clipboard I was holding on the counter and approached them.
They were dressed like they were bound for a funeral, though maybe not for a relative since their pants were dark, tightly fitted jeans. But they had on button-ups that gave the impression they were the nicest items of clothing they owned, as though someone had forced them into such formal attire.
However, their formal appearance didn’t distract me from the tattoos on their necks peeking out from under their collars. Nor the various notations on their knuckles in permanent ink.
Instinct told me to be worried, or at the very least, intimidated. But I wasn’t the kind of woman who ran away with her tail between her legs, even though I was sure they were there to intimidate me. “I’m speaking to you. Social courtesy dictates you reply—especially when you’re the ones who let yourselves in.”
“Don’t leave the fucking door open.” The one furthest on the left spoke, the harshness of his accent confirming my earlier suspicions. If this man had his way, he would not be dressed in his Sunday best.
The man in the middle shot him a glare, effectively shutting him up. “Ignore my colleague. He has more teeth than brains.” He smiled, showing off one dead tooth and the rest catastrophically clustered.
I forced myself to smile back even if it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“I’m Johnny. This is Nicky and Steve.” He jutted his thumb at the other two, indicating which man was which.
I immediately filed their names under “things I don’t care to remember.”
When he finished introducing the small group, he held out his hand and waited.
Social courtesy, I thought as I reluctantly took his hand and shook it meekly. My father was likely rolling over in his grave at the placidity of the gesture. He’d always preached the importance of a firm handshake for a good impression.
My eyes found the closest thing—a candle—and two years of woeful French came back to me as the silly name sprang from my lips. “Chandelle.” I had no intention of sharing the power of my real name with these men.
“Chandelle, like Chantel, only more … hoity-toity.” He flashed another grin.
I grimaced in condolence for his teeth. “Sure.” I shifted my stance, hoping to back them toward the door as I stepped closer.
Unfortunately, they remained affixed where they were.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Chandelle. We’re your friendly neighborhood welcoming committee,” Johnny continued. Nicky and Steve chuckled under their breath. “Here to introduce ourselves in case you need anything and let you know how things work around here.” As he said “anything,” his eyes slid down my body, making me feel naked despite my respectable jeans and t-shirt.
I tried to smile, but it was lost when my nose turned up in disgust at his suggestion. “Well, that’s nice of you, but today is opening day, and I have some last-minute things I need to do, so if you don’t mind …”
I moved to the door, reaching to open it and usher them out, when Nicky—or was it Steve?— grabbed my arm. I shrunk back immediately, pulling away as their demeanors suddenly changed. They crowded around me, closing ranks.
“We’re not going to take up much of your time, but there are a few things we have to go over before you open today.” One of the lackeys broke off and made his way toward the cash register. It suddenly dawned on me what they were doing here—this was a shake-up, like right out of a movie.
“You see, your little establishment here by-passed a few dotted ‘I’s’ we normally cross.” My brow crooked up at his jumbled idiom. “So, we came here to clear up any confusion. This building is situated on the edge of our territory and is subject to some, well, let’s say, land taxes.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Listen, whatever you little hoodlums think you’re up to, you’re not getting anything out of me. I don’t provide financial support for criminal enterprises, so you can fuck off and find someone else’s hard-earned money to steal because you won’t be taking mine.”
The second lackey standing next to me raised his hand as if to backhand me. I watched the motion without flinching, my gaze hard and unwavering.
Johnny grabbed his hand before the blow connected, shaking his head. “I understand your reluctance, but my boss doesn’t like late payments. He charges an interest of fifty percent, but since you’re new and you don’t know how these things work, we’ll forgive your transgression on the understanding that you’ll be more forthcoming with your payment in the future. But—” He moved closer, the sour smell on his breath causing me to step back into the counter behind me, “—next time, I won’t be so nice.”
The guy jangled the cash register behind me, trying to open it. The only way to do it was with my code, which they wouldn’t get. “Boss, it’s locked.”
Johnny’s eyes flashed with brief anger before he smiled again. “Not a problem. You need the cash for now to make change, what with it being opening day. We wouldn’t want to make things hard on you, so we’ll leave it for now, but we’ll be back later. Sign says six, so we’ll return at five-thirty.”
