Cody was working on what qualified as homework for a six-year-old. I could hear him laughing in the living room as I filled up the sink to let the dishes soak. When they were submerged under scalding hot, soapy water, I checked on Cody once more and then headed into the hall with my phone. I didn’t exactly want to call Ethan Chambers tonight—or any other night—but I would. Clutching the card he’d given me tightly in my hand, I dialed the number on it with trembling fingers.
I will not be afraid of Ethan Chambers, I told myself firmly, for all the good it would do. I was already petrified and I knew it. He probably did, too.
The phone rang a couple of times before I heard it click as someone on the other end picked up. “Chambers,” he said simply, his voice deep and rich. It could have been a nice voice if it weren’t attached to such a horrible man.
Clearing my throat, I said, “It’s Diana. Diana Leone.” I paused a beat, then added, “The owner of The Cut?”
“I know who you are, Diana Leone,” Chambers answered with what I imagined as an amused smile on his handsome face. “I have to assume you’re calling about my offer.”
My stomach knotted with nervousness. People didn’t just turn down Ethan Chambers and that was exactly what I was about to do. “Yes,” I answered, struggling to get out anymore.
“Have you had time to think it over?”
I swallowed and took a deep breath. Then I forced myself to answer. “Yes, I have. I’ve…I’ve made up my mind.”
“And?” he prompted when I left that statement hanging in the stretch of empty airspace between us.
“While your offer is very generous, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”
There was a long pause, then, “What?”
I pulled myself up taller, even though he couldn’t see me. “I can’t do the deal, Mr. Chambers. I really just can’t.”
There was a silence long enough that I thought he’d just hung up on me, but then I heard his low, deep voice. And this time, it wasn’t so pleasant. “Is there a particular reason you’re declining, Diana, my dear?”
I didn’t like that he was using my first name while I was still trying to be businesslike. It told me that he didn’t care about business so much. Instead, my turning him down…it was personal. And that wasn’t good.
Just tell him you can’t because of legal reasons. He’ll have to go along with that, right?
“It’s just that there’s so much red tape, and I’d have to ask my lawyer about subletting because I just don’t know anything about it, and I run a clean, legitimate establishment and I—” I was rambling so fast, the pace matching the heavy thumping of my heart. I tried to slow down and enunciate, to sound like I was in control, but, really, I was scared. This man had power and connections and I didn’t want him making trouble for me. Which was why I continued to spew excuses at him over the phone.
“Jesus Christ, woman!” he finally burst in, his voice raising in volume quickly. “You don’t need to bring fucking lawyers into this. You don’t need to be talking to anyone about anything. This is just a friendly business deal between two friends. An arrangement on a handshake. I mean, damn, this doesn’t have to be complicated.”
I recoiled at his sudden intensity and anger. I was grateful that he couldn’t see me, the phone effectively hiding me and my cowardice. It was the only way I maintained the strength in my voice when I told him, “I appreciate the offer, but I just can’t take risks with my business right now.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he spat at me, his tone going from high volume to low again. But this time it was silky with the promise of danger. “You need the money. I know you do. Everyone needs the fucking money.”
I swallowed. “I can do without it.” And I could. I would. I’d made it this far and I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me into doing something that I wasn’t comfortable with.
“Listen, woman, no one’s going to be bothered if you’re doing a little bit of extra business on the side. All you’re doing is renting out a storage room, not letting some criminal take up residence there on a six month lease.”
“I’m sorry, but my answer’s still no.”
“This isn’t over, Diana Leone,” he said and this time the threat was clear.
“Yes, it is.”
Before he could yell at me further or call me woman one more time, I hung up the phone. For several long seconds, there was silence in the hallway that was heavy with what I’d just done.
It was the right thing. I was sure of it. He’d have run me into the ground with his drugs and the dangerous people that came along with that. The money couldn’t be worth it. But even knowing I’d done the right thing didn’t do much to settle my hammering heart or to untangle the twisted knots in my stomach.
Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the wall, pulling in deep, slow breaths in an effort to calm myself. Everything will be okay, I promised myself silently. Everything’s going to be fine. This’ll all blow over.
I stayed there for a while until I heard, “Momma? What are you doing?”
Startled out of my stupor, my eyes snapped open and I looked over to see my son standing at the opening of the hall, holding his workbook. It was one of those big books that taught kids to write the letters and keep them between the lines.
Smiling, I asked, “Cody, are you all done with your homework?”
He smiled widely at me and held up his book, opening it wide at the spine to where he’d been working. He’d written in crayon, even though he was supposed to be using pencil, but I didn’t have the heart to scold him for it. The teacher could get over it.
“That’s such a good job, honey!” I said with a smile, pushing away from the wall and heading over to him. I knelt and took the book from him, flipping through the three pages he had to do. His letters were sloppy, the crayon clearly going out of the lines and not quite connecting where they should be. But he was a fast learner and he’d be writing sentences before I knew it, so I meant it when I said he’d done a good job.
“Does this mean I get an extra-long story tonight?” He looked up at me with those huge eyes, his smile wide and hopeful. He loved his damn stories and if I was being honest with myself, they were one of my favorite parts of the day, too.
Rolling my eyes at him, I feigned annoyance with a large sigh. “Oh, all right. I suppose.” Then I grinned at him. When I reached out my hands, I caught him about the middle and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. He let out a squeal and a laugh, batting at my hands. “But you’d better get your stuff packed up first and I want some pearly white teeth before you get into bed, understand?”
He saluted me with the wrong hand and said, “Aye, aye, Captain!” Then he whirled around and made a break for the living room, presumably to grab his things for school tomorrow. I watched him go, feeling a little shaken. I wanted to push Ethan Chambers completely from my mind, but it was impossible. He’d cast a raincloud over my day and I could only hope that tomorrow it would go away.