by Gina Drayer
“That alone is suspicious. I was still living with him when he was arrested, and by the time he’d made bail I was gone. You’d think he’d at least ask a couple questions about me. Christian knows I turned him in.”
“Of course he does,” Janet conceded. “But Christian is the one who’s likely in danger. He’s the real threat to Del Rossi. And we’re counting on that. If Del Rossi’s threatened or afraid, he’s more likely to turn state's evidence for protection.”
“And what about me? I’ve been threatened. I’m afraid. Where’s my protection?”
“You just got spooked. It’s understandable with the pressure you’ve been under,” Janet said, trying to put her at ease. But it wasn’t working.
“I wasn’t spooked. There was a message on my mirror.”
“Sorry I missed you isn’t exactly a threat. And we can’t even be certain it was for you. Unless I have some proof, an actual threat, there’s not a lot I can do.”
“So basically, I’m screwed.” Lee sighed in defeat, trying to hold back the tears and failing. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”
“I can have a security guard posted on your floor for a couple of nights.”
“Don’t bother,” Lee said, getting up from the table. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Just don’t leave town,” Janet warned as she stood up and collected her things. “And if anything else happens, let me know.”
Lee returned to her room feeling lower than she’d ever felt in her life. Nothing had prepared her for the consequences of her actions. Turning in crooks was part of being a good citizen. That’s why she’d gone to the DA, but that had been a mistake. Within a matter of weeks, Lee had gone from being a loving girlfriend and hardworking employee to being a whistleblower with a target on her back.
The idea of making a plan seemed ridiculous now. She had no idea how long her life was going to be in tatters. No one in the financial world would hire her now that Evans and Kline was under investigation. And there was a good chance that someone was trying to hurt her, or at the very least scare her.
She couldn’t move forward. There was no room for plans in her life. Lee had to shift into survival mode.
Chapter Two
Dylon shifted in the comfortable kitchen chair and squinted at the computer monitor. The cool air from the AC washed over his bare chest as he forced himself to concentrate on the columns of numbers on the computer for the thirty-fifth time—at least it felt like he’d gone over them that many times. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d gone through them. Things didn’t add up. He couldn’t get his accounts to balance.
He missed the days when one of his waitresses used to take care of the accounting. A few months ago, she’d taken a full-time bookkeeping job with a doctor’s office, and now it was up to him to make sense of this mess. He knew that this stupid program was supposed to tell him how his business was doing, but right now it was just telling him he was a piss-poor accountant. Balancing the till at the end of the night, ordering inventory—that he could figure out, but profit and loss statements and balance sheets might as well be Greek.
And of course, his sister wanted to meet this weekend and go over the current report so they could plan for the next quarter.
How these numbers could be pushed and shoved around to create anything close to an overview was incomprehensible. But he didn’t need a program to tell him what he already knew. Bernadette's was making money. They hadn’t made back their investment yet, but this was only their second year since buying the place from their uncle. He knew the statistics about new businesses; the fact that they were earning any money was a miracle.
He, on the other hand, couldn’t say the same. Dylon was hemorrhaging money. Buying the building that housed the bar was supposed to be a good business plan. He could charge the bar a lower rent and make it up by living on the upper floor. There were even apartments on the third floor he could rent out. The only problem was, after buying the building and putting his half of the money in for the updates to the bar, Dylon had used up the entire loan. He didn’t have anything left to renovate the apartments. The front apartment didn’t have a working bathroom and the other one … Well, no one wanted to rent a run-down apartment over a bar, especially if it wasn’t soundproof.
Agatha, a pretty blue-haired girl, wandered in from the bedroom. She’d snatched his black button-up shirt from the floor where he’d dropped it but left it open to show off her considerable assets.
“I’m lonely in there all by myself. Are you coming back to bed?” she asked in a pouty voice that was starting to get old.
“I need to finish this before we open for lunch,” he said, turning back to the computer.
“Being your own boss sucks, huh?” She sounded as bored as he felt.
His nod was reflexive. “I suppose. The problem isn’t running the place. I understand cash flow. I mean, what could be easier than looking at what comes in versus what goes out? But planning for next month, making a budget, all that stuff is not that simple. How am I expected to know what my income is going to be like in three months? What if we have a big headliner? Or there’s another stupid tax passed and my costs go up?”
“Magic,” she said. She grabbed a beer and sat down across from him, sliding the beer bottle between her bare breasts. He figured she was making a point. Beer and boobs were more interesting than numbers. The problem was that he needed to send his sister a financial statement that would make sense.
“Didn’t you say your sister has some business degree? Why isn’t she doing this?”
“She’s a silent partner. The whole point is she doesn’t have to. The buck stops with me. I just need to find a way to make a bit more profit so the bar can start paying more rent.” The last thing he needed was to default on his mortgage. His sister had put every cent she had into this bar. She was trying to show her support, and he couldn’t let her down.
“You know I have money. If you need a loan …”
He smiled at her. He found it odd that he often attracted women with money or easy access to it. Pretty little rich girls, running on the wrong side of town with a bad-boy bartender just to piss off Daddy. Whatever. He enjoyed banging them, and if he were less honest, it would be easy to separate many of them from that cash. He just wasn’t made that way. He’d fuck them until they couldn’t walk because that’s what they both wanted, but dipping into their cash was wrong. Even a loan didn’t feel right.
“I appreciate that, Ag, I really do. But that would be the final stake in my heart, I’m afraid. Staying afloat is hard enough. I couldn’t handle any debt.”
“I figured as much,” she said and went back to her beer.
Agatha was like so many of the others, but she’d stuck around longer than he’d expected. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they really didn’t hang out. She went off on her own while he worked, and she came back at closing time.
She didn’t tell him where she went and he didn’t ask. She didn’t ask him to go do things, and he didn’t have to worry about hurting her feelings. It worked for them.
But things were different today. He had no idea if it would be a good thing or a bad thing, but he could tell that she wanted to talk. He was usually good at reading people—especially when it came to women. Too bad he didn’t have the same aptitude for bookkeeping.
“Did you need something?” he asked.
Agatha stood up and took a long swig from her beer. With a heavy sigh, she set down the bottle and buttoned up the shirt. “I’m leaving.”
“See ya around,” he said with a half-hearted wave.
She didn’t move. Their non-relationship had always been casual. She came and went as she pleased, but this time was different. “This has been fun, but I don’t see it going anywhere. I’m leaving the city. I’m going to spend some time in Paris, maybe Barcelona. I just wanted you to know. I won’t be coming back.”
She didn’t wait for h
im to say anything. Instead, she walked back to the bedroom to get dressed. He was a bit disappointed, but their situation was never meant to last.
Maybe it was for the best. Right now, he didn’t need the distraction.
In the wake of all her legal drama, Lee learned a very hard lesson. The world was a cruel and fickle bitch. Good was not necessarily rewarded, and she hated the idea. She’d been naive, and the current situation stank of a terrible truth that she hadn’t been prepared to deal with.
She hadn’t been looking for a reward for turning in Christian. But she certainly hadn’t expected to be harassed and shunned for doing the right thing. Her colleagues, the people she’d worked with for the past year in the financial world, were either snubbing her—simply avoiding her and not taking her calls—or actively blackballing her. Their motives weren’t clear. Fear, greed, revenge, it didn’t matter; she got the message.
Despite the convincing evidence that no one in the business was going to return her calls, much less offer her a job, she nurtured a vague hope that kept her making inquiries. She managed to get a job interview at a small firm. The company was struggling, and she really felt she could help revitalize them. But someone must have contacted the owner, because they turned her down before she even took a seat.
Feeling defeated, she went back to the hotel. She was running out of options and money. She was going to have to either cash out her IRA or find a cheaper place to live. The latter option was preferable. She didn’t want to cash out her only safety net this soon in the game. Eventually, she might need to take that money and run. She still had savings she could live off of for a while, if the rent was low enough.
With a decision made, Lee grabbed a local paper and stopped by the desk to extend her stay for another week.
“I’m sorry, but we’re booked solid next weekend,” the desk clerk said.
“Are you sure? I’m willing to change rooms if necessary.”
“There’s a big convention coming in on Thursday, and I can only extend your stay for three more days.”
Well, that settled it. She was going to have figure something out sooner rather than later.
“One minute, Ms. O'Brien,” the clerk called as she turned to leave. “I have a delivery for you.”
The only person who knew she was here was Janet, and their business was much too private to leave at the desk of a hotel. When the clerk returned with a large bouquet of white roses, Lee was even more confused.
“Are you sure it’s for me?”
“The card says Lee O'Brien.”
Maybe Janet had a soft spot after all. She gathered the large bundle of flowers and her newspaper and headed back to her room.
The roses actually made her feel a bit better. Janet was the only person on her side right now, and she didn’t want to have an antagonistic relationship with her. She set down the vase on the table and pulled out the card. A cold chill ran down her spine as she stared at it in shock, reading and rereading the message. It was vague, yet given the context, extremely menacing. As she read it, her brain instinctively put the words in Christian’s voice.
I know it was you. Don’t expect forgiveness.
Fuck, Christian. She didn’t need or want his forgiveness. But the truth was that she did feel guilty for betraying him. She’d been in love with him. Those two emotions had been warring inside her every day since she had walked into the DA’s office. But after this message she was scared. Rattled.
She couldn’t do this anymore. Taking her cell off the charger, Lee dialed Christian’s number.
“This is unexpected,” he said.
“Unexpected my ass. You can’t threaten me.”
“Threaten you? Now, why would I do that?” His voice dripped saccharine. “I’ve been pretty busy lately. Honestly, I haven’t had time to even think about you. This court case is turning out to be a pain in the ass to settle. It’s already cost me some important clients.”
“Settle?”
“You don’t really believe all those lies they’ve been spreading on the news. This will never go to trial. No, this situation is manageable.”
“What exactly do you think you are managing, Christian? You’re charged with a felony. Several, as a matter of fact.”
“Everything’s negotiable, Lee. I’d think you of all people would know that. Speaking of negotiable, I think I owe you a severance package. It’s standard for all our executives. How much do you need?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about giving you enough money to start over. A hundred thousand? Five hundred thousand?”
“Are you trying to buy my silence?”
“Not at all. That would be”—he let out a little chuckle—“against the law. I’m just trying to reward a hardworking employee. You know what? I’ve got a better idea. You should go away. Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to visit Italy?” He laughed outright, clearly delighted with himself. “You could buy a nice cottage in southern Italy and take up painting or something. So, how much will you need?”
“I’m not just going to disappear, Christian.”
“You don’t have any other options. No one will hire you. The only question is will you accept a reasonable severance package from me—enough to live well—or are you going to wait and see what other offers you get? I don’t imagine they’ll be as generous.”
“You can’t threaten me.”
“It’s not a threat, my dear. For old times’ sake, I’m making this solution available in a way that should be acceptable to you. You can do whatever you want. I’ll provide the means. After all, it’s not like there’s anything left for you here. No job. No friends. How’s the money holding up?”
“You don’t scare me, Christian,” she said, with as much conviction as she could muster. But the truth was she was scared shitless. “And I don’t want your dirty money.”
“Very well, Lee. I always thought you were smart. This is a one-time offer. You have until tomorrow to let me know.”
The line went dead. Lee stared down at his name on her screen. Finding that cheap place to live was about more than just saving money. She couldn’t wait until Thursday to check out, now that Christian knew where she was staying.
She could go to another hotel. It needed to be a low-profile place, the kind of place Christian would never think of looking for her in. She didn’t need to leave the city, just lay low. It was a huge city, with lots of nooks and crannies to hide in. It really was a city you could disappear in. She just had to look for the right place. With luck, he’d give up, thinking she’d left the city. Maybe later, after the trial, she would move back home.
That idea made her sad. As far back as she could remember she’d dreamed of New York City. She’d wanted nothing more than to leave Kansas; she liked it, but nothing ever happened in Topeka. She had her heart set on the East Coast, the place where everything happened. So when she was offered a scholarship to a college in upstate New York, she hadn’t even considered any other offers. It was one step closer to her dream.
And when she finally did make it to the city, it hadn’t disappointed her. It had been every bit the exciting, vibrant place she’d hoped it would be. She loved New York and came to consider herself a New Yorker—transplanted, perhaps, but a New Yorker by temperament. Yet now … The city wasn’t the warm and happy place it had been. Not for her. She felt a new coldness, a rejection. Her naiveté was partly to blame, but the chill was real.
Christian was trying to intimidate her, and as much as she was afraid, as unfair as it was, she would have to make a stand and fight back. She hated bullies and now the gloves were off. She wouldn’t leave until the bastard was behind bars. She was certain of that now. It wasn’t a matter of what she had to lose any longer. He’d put out the word that she’d betrayed him so that she would lose her reputation. She’d be easier to dismiss. And he’d tried to scare her off, made her feel like her life was in danger. That was a big mistake. Huge. He’d scared her, but now she
was pissed.
She had a plan, and he wasn’t going to stop her. The first thing she did was drop her phone in the toilet. Next, she spent the night with Google Maps and the paper, trying to find the perfect place to hide.
There were a lot of ads—there always were—but she needed something furnished, cheap, and away from the financial district. Unfortunately, most of the places even close to her price range were in managed buildings or government subsidized housing. Getting into one of those meant filling in a detailed financial statement and providing identification. Without a job, she was sunk. No one would rent to her without proof of income, and she didn’t need a potential landlord calling around verifying her information. Christian would get word, probably before she knew if she had the apartment.
Lee considered looking at ads for roommates, but she didn’t need to drag an unsuspecting person into this mess. Thankfully, there was one listing that had promise.
“Small, furnished apartment available. Located over Bernadette’s bar. Clean, simple. Month-to-month rental only.”
That had possibilities. It was in Brooklyn—light years away from the financial district.
The next morning, Lee checked out early. She only had to walk two blocks to find a store selling prepaid phones. Anonymous and safe. Now she could be sure that Christian wasn’t tracking her with her cellphone.
“You gotta love this city,” she told the clerk as they activated the new phone.
“It’s a tough place,” the man said. “Hard to get by.”
“It can be,” she agreed. Lee, however, chose to see the opportunity. She had no other choice. It was either that or succumb to fear and depression.
Somehow changing the phone made her feel safer. At least she was taking a step in the right direction. If no one was going to listen to her, she had to look out for herself.
