I sighed and dug a thumb into my right temple. Carol’s non-stop run-on sentences had always made my head spin, but at least sitting in her little office in the Wholesale District had allowed me to see her mouth as it moved, and to take notes. To ask her, in person, to repeat herself. This phone call format was not going to work out for me going forward. If this ever happened again, that is.
God. Was this going to happen again? Was it possible that I’d be able to keep up with the stunt thing while working for The Knockout, in Philly?
I knew as soon as I thought it that the answer was no. There was no way I’d ever be able to work toward my stunt certification if I was stuck here in Philly instead of immersed in the stunt world. I’d have to at least live in New York. It was so close to Philly, but not close enough to manage the gym while living there and pulling stunt work, too.
Carol’s chatter interrupted my spiral of hopeless thoughts.
“They’d be willing to get you on set a couple days early to do some training with you, and to get you fitted out in some extra safety gear too, of course, we love you so much, we’d never want you to get hurt.”
And just like that I was jolted back to reality.
Me. Hurt. My promise to Ethan.
“So, anyway, when this dropped in my lap, at first I almost turned them down, can you believe it honey? But then I remembered you’d gone home and I had to call you. And you know how impossible it is to lock down a gig like this, so…”
“How long do I have to let you know?” I asked, chewing on my lip.
Carol let out a long whoop on the other end of the line. If we weren’t on the phone, I swore I might have been able to hear her all the way in California.
“I didn’t say yes,” I said. God, this made my stomach twist. This decision. It was the first time in my entire life there hadn’t been a clear “yes” or “no” lighting up in front of me. Yes, of course, I wanted this. Could I leave the gym for as long as it took to film these scenes? Maybe. Probably. Could I go back on my promise to Ethan, to not do any crazy dangerous things until the gym had been settled? Until our dates were done? Until our relationship had been settled?
“I’ll let you know,” I emphasized.
“Okay, babe. You let me know. The absolute latest I need to hear is four weeks from now, okay?”
“I promise.” I hung up the phone with a deep breath and a sigh. Being an adult really sucked sometimes. Especially when you’d never signed up for it.
“Who was it?” Ethan mumbled against my collarbone.
My stomach flipped at the feeling, and my face flushed with the shame of keeping this from him, at least for now. I knew I couldn’t bring him into this decision. He was far from reasonable when it came to me and stunt work. That didn’t mean it was any easier to keep secrets from this man who already was entwined in every other aspect of my life.
My mind raced through what I’d actually said out loud to Carol. The lie came easier than I expected it to. “Salesman,” I gasped out as his teeth worried against the skin of my shoulder. “Wanting to sell us new punching bags.”
“See?” Ethan growled, sending shivers down my spine. “It could’ve waited.”
My stomach flipped again, and I pushed out a laugh. It sounded breathless, even though it was really just nervous. As Ethan pushed my shirt off my shoulders and pulled my body close to his, I let all thoughts of Carol and stunt work and New York City fade to the background.
* * *
“…And that’s why I think every aspect of this suggested renovation is completely necessary,” I whispered to the empty room, testing the phrase to see how confident I could make it sound.
I’d set up chairs for all five of my brothers – even Alejandro – and their partners in the break room, which I’d been taking pains to tidy up and make look more like a professional workspace than the neglected lounge it had been since I was a child. If you wanted people to take you seriously, I remembered my instructors saying from one of my business classes, you had to look serious. That included the spaces in which you hosted meetings.
Yes, I knew my brothers were family. Ethan reminded me of that in the days of this week that I’d spent hammering out the details with him of his suggested renovations and improvements, calling and re-calling contractors to get adjustments and exact quotes, and, yes, stressing about how the actual meeting with me and my brothers would look. Feel.
Plus, there was the whole conversation with Carol hanging over my head. Ever since I’d spoken to her a few days ago, it had felt like my old self – the self I really wanted to be, deep down – and my new self – the businesswoman transforming her family’s gym from the inside out – were both warring for my focus at one of the most stressful times of my life.
I surveyed the room while setting out the papers I'd prepared for my siblings to review. My cheeks flushed red when I saw the old couch in the corner, remembering the particular tinny squeak of its springs when Ethan had taken me from behind there just a few days ago.
Yeah, he'd made cleaning up the break room one of "his" dates. We’d been dusty, sweaty and gross, and smelled faintly of cleaning solution, but mine had been skateboarding lessons - by just showing up at a skate park. I knew from growing up in the city that the kids would be only too happy to lend us a board and a few minutes of tips just for fun. I'd expected the shock and terror Ethan had expressed at our lack of helmets, pads, and even our own boards, but I didn't imagine it being as hilarious as it was. We'd left with only a few scrapes and very sore quads.
Not too sore to tumble into bed afterwards, mind you.
I pulled in a deep, slow breath as my eyes flicked over to the clock. Ten more minutes now. I hadn't wanted to be so obvious as to put on actual business clothes, but I had taken extra care with my makeup - neutral, carefully painted colors - and with my hair, which I'd smoothed with leave-in conditioner and diffused dry to make my waves more polished and less windblown. I'd traded my sneakers for ballet flats and slid a jacket over my button-up. I breathed out. We were ready.
Almost like I'd called to him with my thoughts, Ethan appeared in the door, bearing a couple brown paper sacks. "What's this?" I asked, striding toward him, unable to suppress the smile on my face. He shrugged.
"I talked to Joey at Joey and Hawk's a bit about what you're doing here. Opened up a floodgate of stories from when she and Hawk redid the restaurant years ago, which took up about an hour of my life I'll never get back. Upside? She sent us free snacks for tonight."
I wrinkled my nose. "Sorry. But they smell incredible, so I’d say it was worth it. What's in there?"
"The usual incredibleness. Little spinach quiches, bacon wrapped around... something. Dates, maybe? And homemade salsa with chips."
"Mmmm," I said, not bothering to mention that my family knew how to make salsa, and it was always, always better than anything you could find at a restaurant. I pushed up on my tiptoes and touched my lips, whisper-light, to his.
He pulled back and looked at me curiously, smashing his lips together. "What's this? Lipstick?"
The entire time I'd known Ethan, I hadn't put on more than a swipe of mascara or a little Chapstick. My face wasn't flawless by any means, but my warm skin tone and dark hair made it easy to go without makeup. My eyelashes were thick and dark, and my face didn't even get blotchy in the sun. I'd learned as a preteen that makeup was a waste of time and just plain silly if I was going to spend so much time in the gym. There was no point in making my face into a work of art if all that face paint was going to melt off in the ring.
I shrugged with one shoulder. "I want to look nice for this," I said. Honestly, I couldn't explain it even to myself. Just hoped that if I looked the part of Serious Business Woman Who Knows What She's Doing, my family would believe it. Wouldn't get a whiff of my plan to get The Knockout set on a good path and then, basically, to abandon it.
Alejandro came in first, looking simultaneously at his watch and phone. He gave me a flash of a smile before he smash
ed his thumb down on his phone and started barking at someone into his earpiece. He shifted from one foot to the other in the back of the room while the rest of my brothers, Amalia, Sarah, and Daniel trickled in. Arturo scanned the table of food that Ethan had set up, his eyes flicking back and forth, with a look of slight confusion on his face. I could almost see him working out the answer to a question he didn't bother to ask.
Ethan had tucked himself into a far corner of the room where he was tapping away on his computer, quiet and unassuming, like he was nothing more than part of the furniture in here. Arturo’s eyes flicked to him, then settled on me. "Everything okay, Nati?"
"Perfect!" I said, wincing at the too-perky sound of my own voice. "I, uh..."
"Brought food," he finished, his suspicion evident in his tone. Then, decisively, he grabbed a tortilla chip and scooped up a generous helping of salsa with it, shoveling the whole big bite into his mouth. Mamá used to joke that Arturo was like a snake - able and willing to unhinge his jaw just to fit more food in. These little memories about her usually caught me off guard, but tonight, I could almost hear her scolding my brother for wolfing down food, and it made me feel warm inside. Almost like she was right here with us.
"Homemade," Arturo nodded with satisfaction and complete confidence in his own assessment. Then he looked down and scooped a dollop of salsa off his uniform shirt and put that in his mouth, too. I rolled my eyes.
"Glad you like it," I replied without bothering to correct him. Sneaking a glance at Ethan, I caught his smug grin. I'd have to ask him where Hawk got that recipe. If Arturo was happy with it, the salsa must have been almost as perfect as Papá's.
Papá, who I hadn't seen in two weeks. He came in with Sarah, listening to Mariana prattle on about the differences between Facebook, Snapchat, and Instagram and which of her fifth-grade friends were allowed to have profiles on each. Sarah gave me a light hug and, noticing my curious look over at the unlikely pair, explained, "All he said was that he doesn't understand all this instachat and facegram business everyone seems so obsessed with, and she was off.” Sarah tilted her head, considering them as Papá sat down wearily in one of the folding chairs I'd set up. "Actually, he seems pretty calm. Much less restless than he's been lately."
"That's good," I said, smiling absently. I tried to calm the shaking in my hands as Amalia, the last to arrive, took her place. All of my brothers held plates full of food - of course they did - and I made a mental note to than Ethan for thinking of bringing snacks. Of course, people were more amenable to changes of plan when they weren't hungry.
“I won’t beat around the bush,” I said. “I called you here because, while Ethan was doing the insurance assessment, we discovered that The Knockout will need a lot of work if we want to keep it open for the foreseeable future.”
The group was silent for a beat, then two. Alejandro was the first to speak up, massaging his temples and muttering, “Of course it does. How much will it be?” And then the rest of my brothers all started talking at once. I tried to pick through the various shouts of “Did you get another opinion?” and “How much of that was the windows? Because I know a guy…” and “How long has this stuff been an issue?” and answer their questions calmly. The butterflies that had been multiplying in my stomach since I started talking whipped into a frenzy. Still, I held it together, and calmly explained the various assessors’ recommendations for everything from the foundation to the security system.
It was in the beat of silence that followed when my father spoke. "It's so much money, querida.”
“It is, but remember that we can leverage it against the value of the building. This real estate is gold, Papá. It’s worth far more than you thought it was. Its value is at least twice what you told me.”
He was pressing his lips tight and shaking his head slowly, though, which made my stomach twist in a knot. "This work - basement painting, beam replacement, new insulation and drywall - we can do all that ourselves. Right? There’s no reason to pay contractors when we have seven strong men to lend a hand, right?"
His question to my brothers fell on silence. I pursed my lips. It figured that Papá would sooner count himself as a manual laborer before he considered that I could do twice as much as he could. Alejandro was suddenly looking very intensely at his phone, and Sarah was concentrating on feeding cheerios to Camila, who bounced on her knee. Christian and Daniel laced their fingers together and exchanged worried glances.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The recommendations I’d worked so hard on were going to get shot down, and I'd be back at square one. Be that much further away from getting back to the life I really wanted.
“Well,” I said, wanting to be as careful as possible with my words out of respect for Papá, “It’s really more of updating, instead of repair…”
“Meaning lighter work. Mija, you are strong. You can help me with drywall and the other things.”
“Yes, Papá, I can help with framing and drywall. But I cannot lift the building up and repair cracks in the foundation. Or install all-new windows. Or climb on the roof and strip it down to tacks for a new one.” Blankness overtook his features for a second. “It’s too much work, Papá,” I said, gentling my voice. “Plus, you…” I trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious. Thankfully, my siblings knew it.
“Amalia, tell them,” my dad said, gesturing to all of us in the circle. Rodrigo squeezed Amalia’s hand, and Sarah and hand. They both looked worried. Mariana glanced up from her phone, looking concerned as well.
“Ernesto,” Amalia began, her voice gentle. “I know what the doctor said, but that doesn’t necessarily mean…”
“Tell them! It’s good news! We made a good decision and now it is paying off, no? I step down, I feel better, I can help Natalia a little.”
Amalia let out a long breath, then smiled, like whatever happiness she had about this was a halfhearted afterthought. She looked up, not exactly meeting any of our eyes. “We saw Dr. Bastianon this morning. She said that things are looking…”
“Great!” Papá interrupted.
“Better,” Amalia corrected. “Things are looking better.”
“Tell them, Mali. My heart rate, my cholesterol. That asqueroso oatmeal you’ve been making me eat and the slow walks with Pepi have been helping.” I smiled. Pepito was Papá’s little old pug dog, who couldn’t walk much faster than a turtle. “All that rest has been helping, no? And now I can get back to work. Just a little bit of work, some drywall and nails, to make my old man soul happy.” Papá leaned back in his seat, slapping his palms to his knees like he’d solved everything by taking a couple weeks off.
Just like that, all of my brothers erupted into protest, flinging their hands around, sitting forward, Daniel even getting up out of his seat for a second, telling Papá that it was too soon, that there was no way he was getting back to work. Amalia just sent me a tired look, her lips pressed in a hard line, and I felt guilty all over again that Papá’s care was falling most squarely on her.
Amalia must have noticed the expression on my face, because she stood up and crossed over to me where I leaned against the wall, watching my brothers have it out with Papá. “His labs did look better, Natalia,” she said softly. “The EKG showed a little improvement, even. He just has to keep going to his follow up appointments. He promised he would. I think he was encouraged.”
I ran a palm over my face, only thinking about my mascara after the fact.
“What if he really is doing better, though?” Alejandro said in a lull in the noise. He was still sitting there, quiet, his face open and hopeful.
“Okay, everyone just stop,” I said, raising my voice on the last word. Everyone else fell dead silent. A fire lit in my chest and I suddenly wanted it all to be laid out there – that my brothers had passed The Knockout off to me because none of them cared about it to take charge of it themselves. That once I was in control, and proposing all these changes involving a lot of money, they regretted that decision. That now, they were thin
king I really couldn’t do the job after all. That maybe, deep down, they’d been expecting me to fail.
I glanced over at Ethan, who sat there, watching me steadily. His eyes shone. He was waiting for me to step up. And, I realized at that moment, it was exactly what I had to do.
“Oigan, chicos,” I said, in my kickboxing instructor voice, clapping my hands together once. They all fell dead silent, and I swear I saw Alejandro and Rodrigo sit a little higher up in their seats. All ten pairs of eyes around the circle were wide. “You entrusted The Knockout to me. We signed papers. There were lawyers involved. I own The Knockout now, do I not?”
Alejandro shifted in his seat. His fingers played with the edges of his cell, like he wanted to look at it, but was too afraid to look away.
“Perhaps,” I said, trying to hide the shaking I felt in my voice, “We should all look through these pages again. I’m happy to start from the beginning, bearing in mind that the final decision is mine. I did not call you here to get your approval on the very educated business decisions I have made. I’m looking for support, and for constructive input.”
I snuck a look at Ethan, who was looking at me like the damn sun was shining out of my face. Just like that, the shakiness started to dissipate.
Alejandro pursed his lips, and gave two curt nods. I knew he was playing out the scenarios in his head, and my other four brothers knew the same. After a few moments, he sighed, looked up at me, and said, “First of all, I think at least two more estimates for the foundation repairs will help you better plot out the rest of the budget.”
“Okay,” I said, grabbing a pen. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, I’d marked up my proposal with dozens of comments and things to consider from my brothers. We would do a couple DIY projects, and we’d source some materials ourselves to save on those costs. They had some great suggestions. Papá had been mostly silent, communicating in grunts and nods. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something I could work with.
Just Let Go Page 15
