Chapter Ten - Samantha

George, my landlord, doesn’t smile once during my entire presentation. It’s polished, slides detailing what we do for the community next to a numbers breakdown. I’d spent hours on it. I’d practiced four times before I left my apartment this morning. George doesn’t seem impressed.

“I’m sorry, Samantha,” George says, “I can tell you worked hard on this, but—”

“We’re a neighborhood staple. We bring business in!” I say.

George shakes his head. “You know I like the center. My niece takes classes with you sometimes. It would be a shame to lose you as a tenant in the neighborhood,” George says.

“I think a lot of people would agree with you,” I say, feeling almost hopeful for a second.

“But the neighborhood is changing. I have to charge you the market rate for space, and that just keeps going up,” George says. “I can renew you for six months at your current price, but after that, all that new crap across from you is going to be open, and it’s going to have to go up.”

“By how much?” I ask, wincing.

“At least a few hundred. A month. I’ll have to watch the market after that’s in. You know how much those apartments are going for, don’t you?” George asks.

“I’ve heard,” I say, taking deep breaths to keep myself together. A few hundred a month is thousands a year. I don’t have that kind of wiggle room in the budget. I just don’t.

“It’s not personal, but I’m not running a charity here,” George says. He does look like he feels bad about it, at least.

I nod. “No, I understand,” I say.

I do understand, and I know it’s not George’s fault. He’s right. Everything in the neighborhood is going to be worth more, and I can’t cost him money by being in his building. I just don’t know what to do. With a rent increase like that, I’d have to either increase the prices of our classes or let some of my staff go. I really don’t want to do either of those things. I can’t do either of those things. Increased prices would just send people right across the street, and letting my staff go would ruin our morale. Either one of those things could make the situation worse, not better.

Walking out of his office, I can’t help but feel like this is the beginning of the end. I plan to keep fighting as long as I can, but it already seems like a long, hard road.

***

When I get back to the center, I see Lucas coming out of the new complex. I feel myself getting hot and angry. I can’t help but think that if it wasn’t for him, my rent wouldn’t be going up nearly as much. Maybe that’s not fair, but it’s how I feel.

“Hey,” I say, making a quick decision and crossing the street to him. “You didn’t tell me we were neighbors.”

“Excuse me?” Lucas asks. He’s probably just coming out of a meeting about ruining the neighborhood, I assume. He’s got another expensive watch on his wrist and a pleased expression on his face. It looks smug to me – like maybe he’s pleased about ruining my life. I know that’s melodramatic, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking it.

“I know who you are,” I snap. He’s in a blazer again today, wearing a pressed shirt that fits him too well. It looks like it was made just for him. It probably was. “You own Invigoration Clubs. You’re the one building a mega gym across the street from me.”

“Look—,” he starts.

I shake my head. “Were you spying on me?” I ask, furious.

“No!” Lucas says. “The first day I went into your center, I was trying to get information. But after that, no.”

“Get information for what?” I ask. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“About the Fitness Center – about our competition,” he admits. The look on his face is smug again, and it makes me even angrier.

“So you could what? Look for weaknesses? Figure out how to shut me down faster?” I ask. I’m not normally this harsh with people, but I can’t help it right now.

“I’m not a cartoon villain, Samantha. I’m not plotting against you,” Lucas says, sounding annoyed.

“Really? Because it seems pretty villainous to me,” I say. Maybe I shouldn’t take it so personally, but it feels a lot like a personal attack. It feels a lot like a plot against me. My fitness center is my life. My whole world. It’s everything I’ve ever built and worked for.

“What does?” Lucas asks. His voice is harder now, even more annoyed than before.

“Destroying a neighborhood so you can make millions of more dollars!” I huff.

Lucas scowls. “Hate to break it to you, but this development was going to happen with or without my gym,” Lucas says. “If it wasn’t me, it would be something else.”

“At least if it was something else, it could be something useful. Something that we actually need around here!” I say, even though he’s right. I’ve had the same thought myself more than once.

Lucas bristles. “You own a fitness center, and you’re telling me the neighborhood doesn’t need a gym? To exercise?” he asks.

“Not the way you do it!” I say.

I’ve never been inside one of his gyms, of course, but I don’t need to know that they’re the worst kind of fitness culture. The kind that goes against everything I try to do.

Lucas himself goes against everything I’m trying to do with my business and my life. He’s a huge jerk. He’s a money-hungry jerk who spies on his competition and doesn’t see the issue with it. And I’m not letting someone like him ruin my community if I have anything to say about it.