by Emma Quinn
Michael stood quickly and nearly had to sit back down when his head started swimming. But he managed to stabilize himself and faced Jake. “You’re supposed to be my friend and you come in here and tell me that I’m pathetic?”
“Yep,” Jake said blandly. “And I’m telling you, because I am your friend.”
Michael scoffed and started to say something incredibly stupid, but Jake wasn’t interested in hearing it.
“Shut up, and listen,” Jake told him. “I just crawled out of the damn desert, being shot at and cursed at. I watched as friends died and politicians used us as some half-assed bargaining tool. I watched as we won and failed. And I wondered whether or not I’d come out of that hotter than the gates of hell landscape alive. Then I somehow make it home only to find my best friend complaining that he’s lost everything!”
Michael blinked. He thankfully wasn’t sure what to say, because if he’d had words, they probably would have been stupid.
“But you know what I’m hearing?” Jake said, motioning towards his right ear. “A lot of complaining about how you still have this huge house to pitch golf balls at. And how you’re in love and a little misunderstanding is keeping you from it. And how you got kicked out of a business that sounds like it was rotting from the inside out. Yeah, man, sounds fucking terrible.”
“You don’t understand,” Michael began, but the words felt… hollow. And very, very stupid.
Jake lifted an eyebrow at his friend, suggesting he agreed that the words were indeed stupid. “I’m going to tell you this one story and then if you want to go back outside and hit golf balls at your window, I won’t stop you.”
Even if Michael hadn’t wanted to listen to the damn story, he had a feeling it wasn’t really optional. Michael wasn’t in bad shape by any stretch, but he wasn’t a Marine. And it didn’t help that he was piss drunk.
So, he managed to keep himself standing and listened as Jake told his story.
“There was this kid. His town had just been bombed. Had no home or parents… Had no arm.” Jake paused, clearing his throat. “I thought, there’s no way this kid is gonna make it, right? How can he? But I saw him running around outside, kicking a ball with his friends. Laughing. His aunt was taking care of him and his cousins. They didn’t have a lot, but they made up for it with trying. That kid can be happy when he has lost about as much as a person can… I think it’s a little disrespectful to tell me that you can’t.”
Jake turned away and for a moment, Michael panicked that his friend was leaving. “Wait, I’m sorry. You’re right.”
Pausing, Jake looked over his shoulder and grinned at his friend. “Oh, I know. I’m just getting some coffee for your drunk ass. Sober you up and come up with a game plan to get that girl of yours back.”
Relief flooded Michael as he watched Jake head towards the kitchen. For the first time since hearing Helen’s message, Michael thought that maybe things would work out. That maybe he could still salvage everything that had gone wrong.
Maybe it would be okay in the end.
After several cups of coffee and water, Michael was feeling at least a little sober. He’d explained in more detail what was going on with the restaurant in the hopes that maybe Jake could come up with a plan to help him fix things.
“So, it’s about the money?” Jake asked pointedly.
“It’s about the project—” Michael corrected, but Jake stopped him.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But it’s about the money. Meaning if there was a higher bidder, someone with a lot of money? Someone like you, genius?”
Michael’s eyes lit up as a solution finally gave him hope. “No, I couldn’t do that, because of my connection to the company.”
“The one they fired you from?” Jake confirmed dryly.
Michael ignored him. He had personal ties all over the place when it came to the project. If he bought the restaurant everyone would argue that it wasn’t lawful because of that.
“But I do know someone who has a lot of money to burn and owes me a favor.”
Michael dug out his phone and dialed a familiar number. It rang several times, then…
“Michael Roth? What on earth are you doing calling me?”
“Tiffani, I need your help.”
21
Helen
“ D
id I tell you how sweet he was?” Fiona asked for the fifteenth time since coming into work that day.
Helen sighed, but didn’t tell her friend that she had mentioned it. Several times. Instead, Helen put her head down and tried to focus on the lab results in front of her. The spikes on her computer screen looked foreign today and it was difficult to get her brain to translate them.
“He was really sweet,” Fiona continued, oblivious to her friend’s trouble focusing. “He opened the door for me, because he’s a gentleman of course, and then he didn’t even look at the hostess even though she was really hot. And he pulled out the chair for me.”
She sighed.
This detailed, blow by blow explanation of her date that weekend had been going on for hours now. Although Helen had attempted to pay attention and be enthusiastic at first, her mood had slowly gone down the drain.
Every moment of excitement for Fiona seemed to be in direct contrast to Helen’s own mood.
Her world was falling apart. It wasn’t Fiona’s fault and Helen didn’t blame her friend to be excited, but it was difficult to push aside those deep feelings of worry and hurt.
Things were going so bad right now and Helen didn’t have much confidence that they would get any better.
Helen glanced down on the table where her phone sat, but it was silent. She was waiting on a call from Mr. Packard, her lawyer, with news that might change her entire world. But it had been a dead zone for messages since she got to work that day.
When Helen turned back to her testing, she accidentally caught the tube to her right. It tipped and when she jerked her hand to catch it, she managed to knock over a second tube. The first slipped over the edge of the desk and tumbled to the floor with a shatter while the first spilled its contents across her desk.
Fiona stopped talking.
For a moment, everything was absolutely silent except for the slow drip of liquid from her desk to the floor.
Then she coughed out a sob.
Helen’s hand slapped across her mouth in an effort to hold back the overwhelming emotion that suddenly slammed into her. Her shoulders heaved as she tried to keep the coming sobs at bay, but it was impossible.
She was going to lose everything.
It was over.
She would have to find a way to take care of her parents; they’d never be able to retire now. The restaurant, their life’s work, that little park that Helen loved so much… It would all be gone in less than a week.
“Oh my god, Helen, are you okay?” Fiona rushed over to her friend, checking for injuries. “Did you catch some of the glass? Are you hurt?”
Fiona’s hands went to Helen’s shaking shoulders and turned the other woman to face her.
Helen’s hand lingered over her mouth as she tried to breathe through her sobs, but after a moment of looking at Fiona’s sympathetic and worried expression, Helen relented. Her hand dropped. She hiccupped before finally being able to speak.
“My parents are going to lose the restaurant,” she said.
Fiona worried at her lower lip. “You don’t know that,” but she didn’t sound very confident. It was obvious that Fiona wanted to make Helen feel better, but there was little she could say to comfort her without outright lying.
Helen quickly shook her head. “Yes, I do.”
“I thought you found a lawyer?”
Sniffling, Helen nodded. “I did. Mr. Packard. He says if we found another buyer who could convince everyone that the restaurant is important, we might be okay.”
“See? There’s hope,” Fiona said, relieved to have something to grasp onto.
A hiccup escaped Helen that was half laugh and half so
b. “No there isn’t. We’ll never find a buyer. We’re going to lose the restaurant for practically nothing. Roth, Inc. is going to win.”
There was a long pause. Fiona’s brow furrowed and her mouth turned down at the corners. “I can’t believe he would do this to you,” she said softly as her shoulders slumped.
She was talking about Michael, obviously. They tried not to bring him up, because Helen was forced to mask her hurt with anger and it made for a difficult day for everyone. But today it didn’t matter. Helen was already upset, and everyone knew who’s fault that was.
“Neither can I,” Helen whispered.
The two women stood there for a couple of minutes, neither sure what to say. Finally, Fiona sighed and said, “I’ll grab a rag and start to clean that up.”
Helen thanked her and took a moment to wipe at her face. The tears had started coming down in force after that first sob, leaving her face a wreck. As she was mopping herself up, her phone rang.
Pausing, both women looked at it. “Is that—?” Fiona began.
Helen grabbed the phone and quickly answered. “Mr. Packard, hello?”
There was a pause.
“Yes,” Helen said into the phone.
“What is he saying?” Fiona hissed, desperate for information.
Helen waved her off, focusing on the conversation instead. “What?”
“Is it bad?” Fiona asked, almost terrified of the answer.
After another moment, Helen said, “You did?” Her expression was one of disbelief. Finally, she said, “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”
Helen hung up the phone and for a long moment stared at Fiona with wide eyes, her lips parted. She was frozen in disbelief. A moment ago, she had thought it was impossible… Now…
“They found a buyer!”
22
Helen
H
elen drove much faster than she should have and ended up getting pulled over by a police officer who thankfully only gave her a warning about speeding and being careful. Still, every moment she took to get to the restaurant left her feeling like she was wasting precious time.
What if the offer was rescinded?
What if it had all been a mistake?
What if it was a cruel joke?
She tried to assuage those fears by reminding herself that Mr. Packard wouldn’t have called her if the deal wasn’t all but done. This was no joke.
When Helen pulled up to the restaurant, she was almost surprised to find that it still looked exactly the same. Although it was ridiculous, she had half-expected that the SOLD sign would be torn down and the CLOSED sign would be flipped to invite people in, despite the packed dining hall.
Instead, it was just as quiet and lonely as it had been since she first discovered that Roth, Inc. was going through with the deal after all.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she reminded herself, but she didn’t quite believe it.
With a deep breath, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Her mother met her halfway, grinning from ear to ear. Seeing her made Helen relax and the women embraced. “Isn’t it wonderful?” her mother said into Helen’s hair.
“I can’t believe it,” Helen answered.
As they broke apart, Helen’s relief quickly faded. Her eyes landed on a table across the room where her father was sitting with a tall, elegant woman that Helen recognized immediately.
Tiffani.
Helen felt her heart drop into her stomach.
“Is this a joke?” she demanded, more to the air than her mother.
Her mother missed the building anger in Helen’s tone and was still smiling as she shook her head, “No, it’s all really happening!” Mrs. Willems took her daughter’s hand and pulled her towards the table, oblivious to Helen’s sudden reluctance to go any further. “You need to meet Tiffani. She’s such a lovely—”
“We’ve met,” Helen said between gritted teeth.
She jerked her hand free of her mother, surprising the woman. “Oh?”
“Yes, and it makes me realize that this is all a cruel joke.”
They’d gotten close enough to the table that everyone sitting there could hear them. The group turned to look at Helen—including the handsome man that Helen remembered very well, his betrayal still fresh in her mind.
“Michael Roth,” she murmured.
He stood and she marched past her mother towards him. Before he could say a word, she’d cocked her hand back and slapped him hard across the face.
Surprised took over his expression, his eyes wide. “Helen—” he began, but she wasn’t interested in whatever bullshit lies he had to feed her.
“I can’t believe you,” she seethed. “You have some nerve coming over here like this and pretending like you’re saving my parents’ restaurant!”
“Helen, honey, please,” her father began, but Helen was on a roll. Everything had been building up inside of her and it was finally coming out now. She wasn’t having it anymore.
“No, dad! He’s a snake!” she said, pointing to Michael. “I trusted him, and he lied to me!”
Tiffani stood at this point, pushing back her chair to reveal a height padded with several inches from her heels. There was another man there, someone Helen didn’t recognize, but he was dressed in a sharp suit and she could guess he worked for Roth, Inc. Another goon.
“I think you should probably calm down, dear,” said Tiffani which had the exact opposite effect of calming Helen down.
“Shut up,” she told Tiffani. “You tried deliberately to derail us and now I really wish I’d let you.”
Tiffani had the good grace to look ashamed and smiled sheepishly at Helen. “I was hurt,” she admitted. “I don’t do well with rejection.”
The man standing beside her, put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture that confused Helen, but she didn’t have the time or patience to bother deciphering what was going on.
Turning away from Tiffani, Helen refocused on Michael. It was painful to see him there, so handsome, so like she remembered. And so genuine looking. It made her furious.
“You could have stopped this the whole time,” she accused him. “And you did, just long enough for me to sleep with you, and then suddenly the project is back on. How convenient.”
“Honey, please listen,” her mother begged.
But it was actually Michael who spoke up. “It’s okay, Mrs. Willems. Helen has every right to be angry with me.”
Helen was surprised to hear him say that. It shocked her into silence.
“You’re right to say I could have stopped this,” he told Helen, stepping closer to her.
It was only stubbornness that kept her from backing up.
“I led this huge company and had no idea the kind of people who were running it. I thought I was running it. Instead, people were making bribes and blackmailing innocent people,” he said, gesturing towards Helen’s parents. “It wasn’t right. I’d like to say I had no idea, but the truth is, I was willfully ignorant. Everyone told me not to trust Ethan and I was too blinded by the past to listen to them. I was wrong, Helen, and I’m sorry it caused everyone here so much grief.”
Helen swallowed thickly. “So, what does that mean now?” she asked, still not quite willing to trust him. His apology sounded so genuine… but everything out of his mouth had and she didn’t know how much of it truly was.
Tiffani stepped closer, smiling brightly. “It means that I owed Michael here a favor,” she cooed in a voice that just naturally sounded like she was trying to seduce everyone in the room. “He told me that if I bought the restaurant and made a bid to keep it from being torn down, he’d consider us even.”
Helen frowned at the other woman. “You’re the buyer?” she asked incredulously.
Tiffani’s smile managed to get brighter. “That’s right. I know it’s a bit shocking, but the truth is… Michael and I were a horrible match.”
Michael smiled in agreement.
“And I don’t hold
anything against him,” she announced, then reached for the man in the suit beside her. “Especially since I’ve found true love. This is Adam, my new boyfriend.”
Helen wasn’t sure what to make of that. She didn’t know Tiffani well enough to care one way or the other about her little announcement about love, but the restaurant was obviously a big deal… could Tiffani be trusted?
“So… love. That’s why you’re doing this?” Helen tried to piece it together.
Tiffani laughed. “Oh, no, honey, I’m not a saint! I’m doing this because I owed Michael a favor—and a lot of money. I don’t like owing people. I’d rather just be done with the whole thing. And it helps that I’ve hated Ethan Edwards since the moment I laid eyes on his pudgy, worn face. What a creep.”
It took Helen a second to realize that Tiffani was talking about Michael’s business partner, the man who had seemed so disgusted with the restaurant. After a moment, Helen started to really put things together. Turning to Michael, she asked, “This was all because of Ethan?”
Michael nodded. “Yes. He was pushing this project through and when I called a stop to it, he wasn’t happy.”
“What did he do?”
Michael’s smile was wry. “He voted me out of my own company.”
“What? Can he do that?”
“With enough votes,” Michael confirmed. “And I guess I should thank him for it.”
Helen lifted an eyebrow at him, not sure she’d heard right. “Thank him for stealing your company from you?”
“For making me realize that he was a terrible person and that there are far more important things in life than him.”
There was a warm feeling inside Helen that made her want to believe everything that was being said. But she remembered how she’d trusted him once… He was telling her it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t gone back on his deal, but could she really believe him?
She wasn’t sure. But Mr. Packard showed up then, apologizing profusely for being late. They all sat down and as they began to go over the paperwork Helen began to realize that this was all legitimate.
