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He picks up his parrot treats and puts them on the counter to pay. “Oh, you know, the developer happens to be his brother-in-law. Rumor has it he’s already helped them get plans approved and permits started.”
No fucking way.
Tim must have seen the confusion on my face. “Oh, Livvy. Make no mistake, these people are moving fast.”
“I… I…” For a moment, I can’t form words. “I didn’t know he was related to them… that they’re family.”
Tim nods vigorously. “Oh yeah. Everyone knows that. Thought you did too. But you’re fighting them, right? It’d be a shame for you to leave. Same with the guys next door. So, anyway, look, I have another coupon for my next show at the comedy club. I hope you can make it this time.”
He pulls out a credit card and pays for his stuff.
“I’ll try, Tim. I really will. And thank you for the kind support.”
A lump builds in my throat, and Jewel sees that I’m about to have a mini-breakdown. She takes me by the arm and guides me to my desk so I can emote in private. She pats me on the cheek before she leaves, which is funny because she’s the employee and I’m the boss. Her kindness pushes me over the edge and a sob escapes my throat. She helps me to my chair, and quietly closes the office door on her way out.
I try to bargain with the universe. Tell it I’m not asking for much. I want just enough to keep the shop going and pay my bills. It’s fine that other people have it easier than me, have more than me, it really is. I don’t have big dreams. I haven’t gone through life with a sense of entitlement. I’ve worked hard, made my own opportunities, and never taken advantage of anyone. I’ve kept my mouth shut and my chin up at life’s little insults. The big insults too. I never bit back, and God knows I’ve had cause to.
In the midst of my meltdown, I see a call coming in from Owen.
Great. Just who I want reminding me of my mediocrity, and the merciful attentions he and the guys paid me when they thought there was something to be gained from it. I fell for their flattery, their good food, their handsome faces. I thought for a moment I was in the club. The club I’d never been invited to before.
Come to find out, I was given a taste, allowed in the front door, and just as I was liking it, found myself on the outside looking in. Again. Like I always am.
I can see it now, the three of them in their perfect restaurant with their perfect lives, laughing about the ‘sad girl next door.’ Isn’t it nice of them to pay a girl like me some attention when my sort is surely starved of not only male affection, but also the sort of graces guys like that are granted on a daily basis.
I’m angry. I’ll show them. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way.
I could burn their place down. But that might burn mine too. And while highly illegal, that might solve some of my problems. Cash in on my insurance? Leave town?
Yeah, I’d leave town in an orange jumpsuit on my way to Riker’s Island.
I could let loose a horde of rats or cockroaches that would keep their diners away.
I could spread a rumor that I’d gotten horrible food poisoning there.
Or I could just ignore them. Forever. Or for at least as long as both our businesses are here.
Yeah, that’s the most likely option.
45
LIVVY
“Why aren’tyou returning my calls?”
“I am now. What can I do for you?” I ask in a tired voice.
I am tired. So tired. Of everything.
Owen exhales a long breath. “Livvy, I know you’re not happy with me right now, but I want you to believe me when I say I wasn’t trying to pull one over on you by not telling you when I first got wind of the developer plans. I honestly thought it would come to nothing. You know how people in this city like to speculate. They’re always looking for an angle. An opportunity to strike it rich, usually on the back of some other poor bastard.”
He finally stops talking. I think he must be out of breath.
The silence, while he waits for me to say something, is as thick as his weird celeriac sauce.
Really, did people come from all corners of the city and pay top dollar to eat some of these concoctions? Give me a vegetarian taco any day and I’m a happy girl.
Mr. Smooth continues to try to spin his way out of the doghouse. What he doesn’t realize is that trust, once shattered, does not somehow just regenerate. It’s crushed beyond repair, then stomped on for good measure. There’s no backpedaling. He should be smart enough to realize this. He and his buddies.
