“If we can wrap this up within the scheduled timeframe, there isn’t going to be a problem,” he said.
“And what happens if…?”
“We deliver high quality. Some people want in on the cake. Their products aren’t as good as ours, but cheaper.”
“Then maybe somebody should rat them out to the cops. We’d have a clear path,” Jayce mused.
He grinned. “That would be something, wouldn’t it? Let’s make a little detour on the way back. I cleared it with Roger.”
* * * *
Emma sat on the couch with Elvis, her cat, in her lap. The TV was on, but she didn’t pay attention to the flickering images. Her mind was on another movie, from a past time not as far behind as she’d hoped. Kitty had said the past could sneak up on them—perhaps that warning had come too late. The way perception changed over time could add an additional layer of complication. Before prison, Emma had made choices, not all of them good ones, granted. She’d wanted to meet women who were edgy and confident like Maxine had seemed. She had been prone to repeating mistakes.
When she found herself with Caren, it had been out of fear and loneliness. She’d said yes, but it wouldn’t have been that hard for anyone to persuade her. She needed to be with someone she was fairly sure wouldn’t hurt her, and Caren had seen that need, perhaps exploited it—except she didn’t have many more options either.
Did it matter how Caren remembered the story? Did she want to know?
Emma had broken her dysfunctional patterns with Jayce, even before she got to know the woman behind the undercover persona. What more could she learn?
* * * *
After her shift at the store, she walked past the coffee shop, then turned around and walked inside.
Caren was behind the counter, putting on her coat.
“Emma, you’re here,” she said with a warm smile. “Frankly, I wasn’t sure you were going to come back.”
“The cappuccino was really good,” Emma said, making her laugh.
“Well, I’m glad, but let’s go somewhere else, okay? I know a great place.”
A bit startled, Emma agreed nonetheless. It didn’t mean anything. She didn’t have to flatter herself. She had often been aware that few people understood what she’d been through. Jayce had done undercover work in a prison, so she had an idea of the atmosphere, but she’d known it was temporary, for a job. Caren was probably happy to have found a person she knew understood, because there were things you couldn’t share with many people. Jayce wouldn’t mind if Emma had dinner with her—even if she had known.
“So…when…?” she started, unsure how to formulate the question.
Caren linked her arm with Emma’s. “They let me out last summer. I worked different jobs, but this one is the best so far. I get to be around nice people and sweet stuff all day—that’s quite the difference from before.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“What about you? That was really your boss?”
“Yeah. She’s a friend too.”
Caren gave her a quizzical sideways look. “How are the benefits?”
“Pretty good, I became manager a while ago…” Emma let her words trail off when she realized Caren wasn’t talking about the job at all. “Come on. It’s not like that. She’s married.”
“Doesn’t stop all of them. I’m just saying it’s easy to take advantage of someone like us, but I’m glad it’s not that way. Oh, and here we are.”
It was with growing discomfort that Emma realized they were standing in front of an apartment building.
“Caren…”
“There’s a bar on the other side of the building. It’s not expensive, I promise.”
Emma followed her through the gate along a path to a big yard. As promised, there were some businesses located on the other side. A flight of stairs was leading down to a place called Pink.
So Caren didn’t invite her to her home. Emma still wasn’t sure if she had judged her intentions correctly when they walked down the stairs and into the bar. Caren waved to the bartender and then pointed out a table on the other side of the room.
“Is over there okay for you?”
“Sure. It’s fine.”
This wasn’t what Emma had in mind. She’d expected a half hour or so over a coffee, but she could do one evening, right? Not everyone who had left prison behind was as lucky as she was. There wasn’t that much that separated them—only a handful of people, who believed her side of the story, had made all the difference. Caren might have done what she’d been accused of, but she had her own side too, an abusive boyfriend who had forced her to participate in his scheme of drugs and blackmail. Lucky, they both had been.
They sat down, and a moment later, a waitress appeared.
“I’ll have a beer,” Caren said. “What would you like, Emma? They have cocktails…I think you’re more into wine, right?”
“A white wine, please.” Emma decided quickly, uncomfortable for reasons she didn’t want to address at the moment. She’d been fortunate enough to meet a couple of women who had cautioned her about sharing too much, any sort of information that someone could use against you. It had been quite harmless when one night, she’d told Caren how much she’d give for a glass of wine. The context hadn’t been so innocent, and she was fairly surprised that Caren remembered.
“So, tell me what’s going on with you,” she said.
“I’m doing okay, working, keeping a roof over my head and staying away from bad boys…and girls.” Caren winked. “We both know that ends badly. But you seem to have a lot more interesting things to tell. That boss of yours seems like a classy lady. How did you get that gig?”
“She is…and a friend of hers introduced me.” My fiancée, actually. “It’s great. She opened another store, and so I became manager of the first one. When I first started, I had no idea this would happen.”
“Yeah. It’s not easy when you have a record.”
Their drinks arrived, and Emma took a sip of hers before she said, “I don’t, not anymore. I sued the city.” Spoken out loud, it still sounded surreal. “They settled.”
Caren’s eyes widened. “Really? I mean, that’s great news. I’m happy for you. You found some folks who helped you.”
“I did. How about you?”
It was a precarious dance, this conversation, in this place—only a matter of time before someone touched on more delicate subjects.
“Well, like I said, I’m making better friends. No offense, I always knew you’d go places. Everyone knew you didn’t belong there.”
“Well, not everyone, apparently, but I know what you mean.” How did that glass become empty in such a short time? At this rate she was going to have a problem by the time Jayce returned. At least, Caren considered them friends. That was an acceptable, if euphemistic term.
“I knew it,” Caren continued. “I was selfish, too, because I was glad I met you, and that we reconnected.” When the waitress came by, she gestured for another round.
“Oh no, I should go home…”
“Anyone waiting for you?”
“Right now, my cat, but—” Emma halted when Caren started laughing. “You haven’t changed a bit. I remember you were talking about having a cat. See, it all came true for you. I think it’s no coincidence that we’re here.”
“On this earth?” Emma asked, thinking she definitely didn’t need a second glass of wine.
“I missed you so much.”
Caren’s smile was entirely too happy, alerting Emma that she might have been slow to explain some facts, that in fact she wasn’t flattering herself.
“Give me a second? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” Emma took another sip, then took out her cell phone and pulled up Jayce’s number. Chances were she couldn’t answer her private phone at the moment, but Emma couldn’t wait. I love you so much, she texted. I miss you, and I can’t wait to be married to you. She was done seconds before Caren returned.
“This is so ama
zing.” She reached out to lay her hand over Emma’s, not fazed when Emma retrieved hers.
“Caren, I think I should—”
“Don’t worry. I know this is not prison. There is no rush.”
“Caren. I am with someone. We’re getting married.”
“Oh. Really. Where is she now?” She sounded genuinely interested, still putting Emma on the defensive. What had she gotten herself into? A few hours ago she thought she could get away with a conversation over coffee. Obviously, that wasn’t all Caren had in mind.
“At work. She’s a cop.”
“Wow. You changed sides so quickly it can make a person’s head spin.”
Emma shook her head and got to her feet. “I’m sorry, but this was a mistake. I should have told you earlier. Besides, I never changed sides. I always told the truth. That’s my side.” She had planned to pay, even after the supposed coffee turned into drinks at a bar, but she was so angry she’d changed her mind.
“Emma, please wait! Don’t run away like that.”
Caren tossed a couple of bills on the table and hurried after her.
“I misunderstood, I’m sorry. I thought we could pick up where we left off, and I didn’t realize…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Emma decided that running away wasn’t projecting the mature image she had in mind. “I don’t think we could, anyway. I’m not the same person I was then. I don’t think you are.”
“Oh believe me, you are exactly the same person,” Caren said ruefully. Emma wasn’t sure what she meant by that. “Are you happy?”
“I am. Right now, everything is so much better than I could have ever hoped for—even before.”
Because the Emma of “before” hadn’t known what she wanted, all too eager to be led astray in search of something.
“What if you were single?”
“I am not. I wish you all the best. I really need to go home now.”
“To your cat.”
“To my cat and future wife. Bye, Caren.”
* * * *
Connor had directed Jayce to the old harbor where a few of the warehouses were still used. Most of them had been converted to condos, offices, a few bars and restaurants, and a museum.
“What are we doing here?” she asked. They were still on time for the job they were both being paid for, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was better not to raise suspicions with Winston and any higher-ups. At the same time, she was curious about the turf wars Connor had hinted at.
“Don’t worry, the boss will be more than happy if we can help take out some of the competition. I’m just going to show you around today. There’s a ton of space behind the museum. The people who own these buildings, look the other way, but the ones who use them are not our friends.”
“They are in the same business, or…?” Jayce could think of a myriad of other issues. Drugs. Human trafficking.
“Not that either of us knows what is in those boxes, right? But yes, it’s the same. Last month, they stole a couple of our containers. We take them out, the boss is going to have a nice reward for us.”
“You mean Roger.”
Connor laughed. “Sweetie, you have a lot to learn, and you better learn fast. Roger doesn’t have much of a say in anything.”
“But you know the people who do,” Jayce concluded, letting the misplaced endearment slide. This was getting too interesting.
“You bet.”
“You’re telling me this because…?”
“We’ll need a distraction. I’m thinking you’ll do a great job.”
“At what?”
“Let’s go back to the warehouse now. I’ll tell you later.”
* * * *
Emma had tried to leave Maxine. More than once. That was back in those days when she still had a job in finances, was bringing in most of the money, and felt like she shouldn’t take the brunt every time Maxine had a bad day. Back in those days, she’d told her so. Months went by, and more and more the notion manifested itself that maybe she needed Maxine, that if she left her, she might be alone forever. Emma had been scared of being alone, more than of Maxine’s unpredictability, so she stopped speaking up for herself. She had made another attempt when she found herself in an interrogation room with a homicide detective, but that had gone horribly wrong. She learned to be quiet, not to stand out too much. To acquiesce.
This could be an explanation why she still wasn’t home. When Caren called after her, she had hesitated for a few seconds, then turned around. Emma agreed to hear Caren out instead, as if there was anything left to say.
Was there?
“It’s been really tough,” Caren said. At this point, all pretenses were gone. “No one wanted to hire me at first. Some old friends reached out, said they had a job for me…Well, they’re not really friends. You know what I mean. I didn’t know how to pay my rent otherwise.”
“I’m not judging.”
“Maybe I still shouldn’t tell you. You’re dating a cop now.”
“I didn’t know she was a cop when we first met. Not that it matters. You’re not hanging out with those people anymore, are you?”
“No. I guess we can’t have everything.” Caren sounded somber.
Emma didn’t feel somber. She felt queasy, thinking about how thin that line had been, how easily her story could have been a different one. She had mailed her résumé all over the city. That was before the city agreed to pay her damages for the time lost. Potential employers were cautious and suspicious when they found out what she had done in recent years.
“It’s only been a few months. You could meet someone. You will.”
“I really wish things were different. I was going to look out for you.”
And Caren had, for the time they’d been on the same block. Emma couldn’t deny that. Nothing ever came for free, inside those walls, or on the outside.
“I don’t think we should meet anymore. We’ve said everything, haven’t we?”
“Your fiancée, does she know? Everything?”
“Yes, she does.” That might stretch the truth a bit, but Jayce had gone undercover in a women’s prison as well. Even if Emma hadn’t told her every little detail, she did know. “Thanks for the wine,” she said, getting to her feet, this time in a less rushed fashion. “Good night.”
* * * *
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“We’ve seen the places. They have shipments of their own coming, and we could get back at them hard. We spoke to T, she agrees. And she might be able to bring in even more buyers if we have the merchandise.”
“It’s risky, but someone needs to show them who’s the boss around here. All right, let’s do it.”
The man they’d met, Thomas Wayne, gave Jayce a long, considering look. “T’s friends come with a lot of potential. I like doing business with them.”
“Thanks, sir,” she mumbled, and he laughed.
“Get back here tomorrow, and we’ll talk about the details. I look forward to teaching those amateurs a lesson…What did you say your name was?”
“Jane Finley.” She didn’t believe for a second that he didn’t already know the moment she was hired. “You do this right, we might have some more use for you in the future.”
“Thank you. I’d like that, sir.”
The meeting ended, and they went back on their way. “Come on.” Connor was in an excellent mood. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
Jayce had to act a little more low-key, restrain her enthusiasm some, but she, too, had a reason to celebrate. She couldn’t believe they’d just walked right into Thomas Wayne’s apartment, the businessman pulling the strings behind people like Winston. Tanya had heard talk about him, but even Winston wasn’t in regular contact. Connor definitely had ambitions, and those would be a great help once the clean-up started.
“I won’t say no to that. This is good, right?”
“You bet it’s good. Wayne understands how the business works, better than the guys in bad suits. We play this right,
there’s a reward in it.”
He wanted to go past Winston? This was getting better and better. She had to get in touch with Tanya and Daniel to update them. By the time the big day rolled around, they could likely take down even more of the counterfeiters than originally planned.
The bar Connor chose was somewhat dingy, but not the worst Jayce had seen. They sat at the counter, and he ordered beer and vodka shots for them.
“That’s quite the start.”
“It’s the beginning of something great,” he said, picking up his beer glass and clinking it against Jayce’s. “Watch me, sweetie. You’ll be able to learn a great deal for the future.”
She suppressed the laughter in favor of what she hoped was an admiring smile.
“I’m sure I will.”
* * * *
Elvis had decided both of her humans had left her alone for too long. Since Emma was the only one available, the cat greeted her with insistent meowing only to bolt when she tried to pick her up, and ignore her for the rest of the evening.
“Thanks for your support,” she said out loud. Only two days. She had promised to handle the temporary separation better, and she should. Emma had taken care of herself for most of her adult life—but that wasn’t really the point, was it? She needed someone to sort out her conflicting feelings about her past, and the people in it. It wasn’t so hard with Maxine, who had used her the whole time, because she’d seen she could get away with it.
Caren had her own traumatic experiences to deal with, but that didn’t mean she was innocent in everything. Emma didn’t know, or perhaps she didn’t care to remember, how easy she’d made it for her. It was hard to place any blame when she’d felt lonely to the bone, at the same time crowded and trapped—like most of the women she’d met.
It was good to remember that in the outside world, she had options, to say no, to be with a person who understood and cherished her.
If only that person was here right now.
Elvis eventually overcame her irritation and joined her on the couch, curling up in her lap.
Perhaps, once Jayce was home, it would be time to address some subjects she hadn’t dared look at yet—like the fear that one day, she might be thrown back into a life where there were no more choices. That fear had been a lot more present right after her release from prison, but Emma hadn’t been able to get rid of it altogether. She wondered if she ever would.
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