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“No,” I said, turning away and starting to close the door. “You can easily sort out your differences with Benji. Goodbye, Mia.”
“Oh, come on,” Mia exclaimed, “Stop being petty, Ethan. You can fix this, but it's clear you don’t want to.”
I spun on my heel. “Petty?I’mpetty?”
She notched her chin up, “Yes, you are.”
“Get in,” I growled. “You clearly do not know adamnthing about being petty.”
The moment she stepped in and closed the door, I had her up against it and caged her in with both elbows. Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates while her palms were flat against the door.
“When I was seven, your dad came to talk business with my dad,” I began. “Except he was not there to talk business; he was there to demand my father not to use the same trucks to carry our materials to our factory because they aretaintinghis products. When my father said no, do you know what your father did? He bought that trucking company, rebranded it, and redid the manifesto to make sure they only catered to him and forced my dad to have to use three other companies, all out of the way and four times more expensive.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Your dad was so sure our business was little more than dirt; that little stunt of his made us see red for five quartersconsistentlyuntil Dad had to pony up and get our own trucker. Now, you tell me who is petty?” I demanded.
Her breath—peppermint—flickered over my cheek.
Then, her eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”
“I am not,” I grated.
“My father would never do something like that,” she said, blind with faith in her duplicitous dad.
Rolling my eyes, I pushed away from her and went to my abandoned dinner. “Do you want the record, Mia? I have three copies: the one I printed out, the one my dad has in his ledgers, and the ones etched on the walls of the cave that used to be our office. Tell me which one you want?”
Her face twisted. “Stop, Ethan, just stop. You don’t have to be so…”
I stabbed my fork into my chickpea curry. “Be honest? Be brutally honest. Why would I be anything but after that bald accusation?”
“Because it doesn’t seem like anything my dad would do,” Mia said.
“You don’t believe me then,” I replied. “I think you need to rip those rose-colored glasses off your face, Mia. My dad was no saint, but he has never gone out of his way to undermine anyone.”
“Is it possible you remembered that wrong?” she asked. “Why were you in the meeting anyway?”
“Because thatmeetinghappened in the living room while I was trying to watch my Saturday morning cartoons,” I replied, dropping my fork. “You know what irks me the most? It’s not that your family is successful or that they’ve got such a huge backing. What gets me is that your family makes it look like the rest of us are Neanderthals hunting with spears and rocks and forces it down other peoples’ throats that we are.”
Mia looked away for a moment, and the air vibrated with uneasy tension.
When she turned back, her expression was dull. “I just need to talk to you about the bug currently wreaking havoc on my plants. The chemical control your man is planning on using cannot be used at all. I did some reading, and it has been proven that chemical control on mealybugs works best when sprays are aimed at the crawler stage. We have full-grown pests, Vega.”
“So, I am back to my first question,” I said patiently. “What do you want?”
“Let's use biological control.” Mia offered. “Lacewings, ladybird beetle, any bugs that will feed on these pests but leave my vines alone is the best thing I can think of, and it’s recommended too. Chemical control is often the last resort. And it’s less expensive too. I would also like to make this joint venture with you.”
“Great,” I deadpanned, “Go with that.”
“I would, but your guy is set on chemicals,” she replied. “Please call him off.”
“Done,” I shrugged. “Is that all, or do you want to share dinner with me?”
Her lips twisted. “I know you’re being facetious, but even if you were honest, I’d decline. I’m not… a curry fan.”
“Splendid,” I replied, knowing she was going to say something likerabbit food. “I’ll tell Benjie. If that’s all…?”
Pressing her lips tight, Mia nodded. “Thank you. I’ll get the cost, and I’ll appraise you about it.”
