The Other Side of Greed

by Lily Zante

  “Look, Bradley. I don’t have time to talk. Either you can help right now, or you can’t.”

  This could be my chance to get into Redhill. “Where do you need me to be?”

  “At Redhill.”

  “I’m making my way over.” I hang up and stare at my barely touched steak, my mood plummeting at the meal I’m going to have to give up. Lewis had better make it worth my while. “I’m sorry. I have to go,” I tell Jessica.

  Shock animates her face. “Was that Kyra Lewis?” she asks, again, trying to read my expression. “It has to be. Such an unusual name. Such an unusual woman.”

  “It’s business.” I hesitate on whether to tell her.

  Jessica wipes her mouth as her cool expression slips into confusion, wondering what I am up to. She doesn’t need to know. “But you’ve barely touched your food,” she cries.”

  “You’ve barely touched yours.” I nod at her plate. She’s had maybe a tiny flake of tuna, and a couple of salad leaves.

  “I’m done.” She presses a dainty, manicured hand against her super flat stomach.

  I chortle. “You’ve hardly eaten a thing.”

  “What are you up to, Brandon? Level with me here. Why are you leaving me to see Kyra Lewis?” Is that a hint of disappointment I detect behind that cool mask, that flawless porcelain skin. I sense unease behind her cool blue eyes and perfectly painted glossy lips. Dare I think that she might even be jealous? “I’ll explain later.”

  “Explain now.”

  “I have to go, Jessica.”

  “To see Kyra Lewis?” she snarls. This surprises me. Jessica is usually emotionless.

  “What are you up to, Brandon?”

  The muscles in my neck tighten. “I need to take care of something.”

  “At this time of the evening?” She’s going to pry it out of me unless I tell her.

  I huff out an irritated breath. “It’s ... you know I have my sights on Greenways?”

  Jessica’s eyebrows lift ever so slightly north. “Go on,” she says, a wicked grin spreading on her face.

  “I’ve offered her my services.”

  “What services?”

  “My business acumen.”

  “What for?”

  I’m tempted to quickly wolf down my steak, because I don’t know what Kyra wants me to do or how long it could take. While this is a useful turn of events, it’s not ideal, her interrupting my evening like this.

  “To convince her that moving somewhere else would be better for her company. She doesn’t know who I am. She has no idea. She thinks I’m a hippie-cum-redeemed-capitalist who has returned from a sabbatical visiting Third World countries and now I want to do good here.”

  Jessica claps her hands together. “That is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!”

  “Thank you.” But I am still completely bummed about having to give up my steak. I need the deal, and this woman has summoned me. I should go because I have no choice. “Sorry to leave you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m intrigued. This is fabulous; this idea of you going undercover. I want you to keep me up-to-date with your progress.”

  “You can’t tell anyone, Jessica. It will ruin things.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. I’m impressed at the lengths you’re going to.”

  “The situation demands it.” I get up and leave a wad of bills on the table. “Are you staying?”

  “I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

  “I can drop you back.”

  “You run along. Keep me posted.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop saying you’re sorry. Why does she even want you at this ridiculous hour? Doesn’t she have a life?”

  “Evidently not.”

  She gives a stiff laugh. “What a crazy world, you leaving our dinner and seeing Kyra Lewis instead.”

  “Seeing her? I don’t think so. I’d rather rot in Alcatraz.”

  “You owe me another evening, Brandon.”

  “We’ll have dinner again soon, I promise.” I take her hand and kiss it.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” The smile she gives me has more sizzle than ever. She wants me. Odd that it’s taken the mention of Kyra Lewis for her to express her feelings so pointedly.

  I rush away, remembering that I have to get into character. That I’m not a billionaire any more, but a down-on-his-luck, broke loser.

  Kyra hasn’t told me a single thing, she hasn’t given me a clue as to what she needs me for. I suspect she’s calling my bluff. I got the impression she doesn’t like me much, and for that very reason, I’m determined to rise to the challenge.

  I rush home to change into my casual clothes, then drive the battered old Toyota Corolla. The fucking stick shift takes some getting used to. It’s a cart. A real pain in the butt to drive. Every time I have to get into this, I cry for my Tesla.

  I reach her factory and walk around the side to the back. What I see is like a punch to my gut. The huge expanse of land is now teeming with life. Lowlifes, by the looks of it. I suddenly feel as if I’m in the middle of Hell.

  The place is a hive of activity, filled with people. A shiver rolls over me as I glance around. This assortment of people makes me want to retch. I suddenly fear for my life.

  A long row of tables is on one side. People are setting them up, and others are bringing things over. I see the big guy, and then I notice that his arm is in a sling. He catches my eye and waves at me. I walk over to him, grateful to see a familiar face.

  “Hey, glad you could make it. Kyra said she called you.”

  “Yeah, I came as soon as I could.”

  At least he seems happy to see me. When I ask him about his arm, he says he tripped and fell. I catch sight of the older woman setting up the tables with a bunch of others.

  Still none the wiser, I ask him what’s going on.

  “It’s our weekly food night for the homeless. Didn’t Kyra tell you?”

  Food night? We’re feeding homeless people?

  I gave up steak and Jessica for this? I look around with a sinking heart. This isn’t what I signed up for. I fight the urge to gag.

  We’re feeding people who don’t shower? Or clean? People who could be crawling with all sorts of lice and fleas? And then I remember what Jessica told me. Fredrich starts to pick up a box with his one good arm but I tell him I’ll do it.

  Holy crap.

  It’s heavy.

  I follow Fredrich over to a table. Just as I set the box down I catch sight of Kyra who is carrying a box that looks way too big and, given the way she’s struggling to carry it, seems too heavy for her.

  “Will you stop it?” she cries as Fredrich tries to take the box from her. Then she sees me as she sets the box down.

  “I see you made it,” she states in a voice that drips more with disappointment than relief.

  “You asked me to, and here I am.”

  “How about you help me get the rest of the stuff out?”

  I swear under my breath as I follow her.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin your evening,” she says.

  “I was free, like I said.” My voice is tight, like hers. We eye one another like pit bulls about to fight. She opens the double doors of a large van, fumbles around inside it and then hands me over another heavy box. She tells me to take it back to the tables and then to come back for more.

  This is shit I’m not prepared for. Feeding people? I’ve left a perfectly fine, ridiculously expensive meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant, for this?

  A quick glance at the crowd of people all standing quietly, patiently, waiting for something, unnerves me.

  I have never been in a situation like this. Not in this life. I have spent the last twenty years trying to forget. I wipe my hand across my face and turn away, wondering how I am going to get through this evening. I see now that the people at the tables must be Kyra’s staff and workers, and the group of misfits over in the distance are the ones needing to be fed.

  “You can admire the scenery a
nother time.” Kyra’s voice ricochets off my back. I turn around. “Jump in, make yourself useful.”

  “I carried a box.” The words sound pathetic out loud.

  “Get used to it. There are a lot of boxes to carry.”

  “I can manage.” I sound like a teen trying to convince his parents he can handle booze.

  Kyra stops. “Do you have any questions? I know it must seem like I’ve thrown you in at the deep end.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “You told me you’d be willing to do anything. If you can’t handle it, just let me know.”

  This woman is taunting me. I quirk an eyebrow. “I’m up for this.”

  She folds her arms as her expression turns jubilant. “You look as if you’re going to throw up.”

  I force a laugh. And then my stomach rumbles, reminding me of what I gave up for this.

  “You’re mistaken.” I head towards the tables, towards Simona where I expect a better reception and I get it.

  “Brad!” She greets me with a smile. “How lovely to see you.”

  Chapter Nine

  KYRA

  * * *

  The new guy looks lost. Like a fish out of water.

  It struck me that his speech about him wanting to do this type of work, was too good to be true. And now I know that for a fact. He had no idea what he was letting himself in for.

  He has stationed himself next to Simona which means I’ve been able to observe him from a distance.

  He seems hesitant. As if he doesn’t want to touch anyone lest he catches something. While I am aware that this is a hard situation to be thrust into without knowing the full details, I was determined to give him the benefit of doubt. His reaction tells me that he can’t have worked in those poor communities doing what he claims he did, if he looks so uncomfortable now.

  I expect someone like him to be more at ease in the financial district than here.

  “He’s getting along with it.” Fredrich catches me ogling Brad. “Why do you keep looking at him?”

  “He doesn’t seem to be handling it well.”

  “He came, didn’t he?”

  Because Fredrich won’t stay away, I’ve put him on napkin duty. It’s not really a duty, but he doesn’t seem to want to go home, so I’ve given him something that won’t damage his arm even more.

  I’m going to have to force him to stay at home for a week or two, otherwise he will make his arm worse and I can’t afford for that to happen.

  We’ve got Mr. Hartley now.

  At the end of the evening, I tally up how many plates we’ve used, which gives me an idea of how many people we’ve fed. It’s good to know, so that we can adjust the amount of food and supplies we need to bring for the next week. “One hundred and four people,” I announce proudly as we start to clean up. Brad blinks at me. “We fed that many people this evening.”

  He looks unimpressed, and Simona hands him the empty containers and tells him to start loading up the van.

  So now, I have to take him on even though I can see he’s not cut out for this type of work. Still, he might be of some use at the factory. I’ll try him out for a few weeks, by which time I expect him to fold and leave of his own accord.

  I sent Fredrich home a while ago, citing that we had Brad now, and if he didn’t go home, I wouldn’t hire Brad.

  “How did you find that?” I ask Brad.

  “Great fun.” His voice is flat. Unenthusiastic. Dry.

  “He loved it.” Simona gushes, even though I see no indication of this on Brad’s face.

  “I can see that he did,” I reply enthusiastically, giving him a rare full smile.

  “Can’t wait for next week.” His stony look is a treasure I adore looking at.

  “You’re on board then?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  His sarcasm irks me. “It’s not a show.”

  “No, right. Right.” He scratches his brow as if he’s unsure about something.

  “If you can’t deal with this, it’s better you say so now,” I tell him.

  “It’s not compulsory for our employees to do this,” Simona points out. “If Brad is busy in the evenings, it’s understandable.”

  I’m beginning to wonder if she sees Brad as an extension of her large extended family, as if he’s one of her grandsons that she wants to take under her wing.

  “It’s not compulsory,” I state calmly, “but no one has ever complained about giving some of their time for a cause such as this.”

  “He has business skills which I’m sure he can put to good use here,” Simona says.

  “Ladies, I’m here. You don’t have to talk about me like a third party.”

  Simona apologizes.

  “I’m fine. I can do this. I don’t have a problem,” he says. “You just caught me off guard.”

  “Did it ruin your date night?” I suggest, glancing at Simona and watching as she waits with bated breath.

  “No. Just, uh, dinner … with friends. But this is … uh, this is … yeah, it’s cool. I can do this. I’m sorry if I seemed a little off at the start. I didn’t know what to expect, and you can’t hold that against me.”

  I stare at him defiantly, if he’s looking for words of encouragement, he won’t get them from me. “Welcome aboard,” I say, and even those words didn’t come easily.

  Simona claps excitedly. For some reason, she’s ecstatic about the idea of Brad joining us. “Where’s Fredrich?” She looks around for him.

  “I sent him home. He’s going to make his arm worse if he’s not careful.”

  “Who’s going to return the restaurant containers and things?”

  I huff out a breath. “I am.”

  “I can take some containers in my car,” Simona offers.

  “I’ve got this, Simona. I’ve got the van.” I shake my head. It’s been a long day for all of us, but I won’t have Simona, who is in her sixties and who works tirelessly, do too much. “I can take care of this. I’ll ask a few of the others.”

  “You can’t possibly carry everything yourself, you’re not built like Fredrich. Would you mind giving Kyra a hand?” she asks Brad, much to my annoyance.

  I observe his reaction; his unease is palpable. “We’ve already ruined his plans for the evening,” I say, hoping to prevent this. “I don’t think we can ask him to do any more.” The guy looks as if he’d rather chew razor blades.

  “Kyra already has a bad back, which is not a good thing at her young age,” Simona counters. I glare at her. I’ve hefted too many things, and done my back no favors, but this isn’t something I want her to tell Brad of all people.

  “I don’t mind helping.” The tightness in his voice is apparently something that only I can detect because Simona looks incredibly happy, as if Brad has walked on fire for me.

  “You’re such a godsend.” Her face lights up like a firecracker. And then something niggles in my brain. I might be wrong, but I think she has other reasons for wanting this man to work here.

  “What needs to be done?” he asks, but his expression and body language indicate that he’d rather be anywhere but here. I flash him an over-the-top smile and lead the way.

  Unease zigzags through me at the idea of just the two of us in the van.

  Chapter Ten

  BRANDON

  * * *

  She surprised me, and that’s a rare thing. People rarely surprise me, but Kyra Lewis did. For someone as tiny as she is, she has the power of an ox. Those boxes and restaurant containers were heavy, as I found out later when I had no choice but to help her.

  She drove, and I sat in that filthy, broken-down, rackety van with everything clattering in the back. It took so long. My whole evening wasted on some goddamn cause I find to be a waste of time and money.

  Who knew such a thing even existed? Kyra said many good people and businesses in the city donated the food on those nights. I had no idea.

  I hauled as much as I could, and we returned items to the restaurants
. After that I was ready to leave. I’d had enough, but then I felt bad for letting her clean up in the storeroom by herself. So I offered to help her with that.

  She observed my every move. I sense that she doesn’t trust me or my motivations.

  Wise woman.

  She’s smart. I have to give her that.

  By the time we checked everything and locked the factory, ready to go home, it was almost midnight.

  Midnight.

  Apparently, she does this every week.

  And she doesn’t earn a cent out of it.

  It’s insane.

  A complete waste of time and effort.

  For nothing.

  This is not how successful businesses are run. I don’t understand these people, but I can already see that it’s going to be eye-opening working here.

  No wonder her business is a nonprofit—which is exactly as it sounds—nonprofit, because she’s making squat. She’ll never get rich, no matter how clever or smart or determined or hard-working she is.

  She doesn’t deserve to have Greenways. The value of that piece of real estate is lost on people like that. Far better for someone like me to move in and take care of things.

  The next morning, I update Emma.

  “You fed the homeless?” she asks, as if I’ve announced that I’ve got the nuclear codes.

  I scratch my wrist. The thought of last night mixing with those people sends shivers down my spine. I stood under the shower for a good while after I got back, dousing myself with shower gel to make sure I had gotten rid of all the grime from that place.

  “I did. You would have been proud of me.”

  “This won’t end well, Brandon. I hope you know that.”

  “I’m only interested in securing that piece of land.”

  “Remind me again as to how exactly this is going to help you?” Emma’s folded arms and stern expression indicates her continued disapproval. I’m sure she was secretly pleased when Kyra didn’t hire me that first time. But this latest turn of events has really helped me.

  “I’ll earn Lewis’s trust. I’ll give her lots of great business advice. I’ll convince her to believe in me. She influences many. The Greenways business owners listen to her. She’s active on the committee over there. Through her, I’ll earn their trust and along the way I’ll advise her to move someplace else. Then I’ll swoop in and take what I need without the headache of dealing with eminent domain.”