Stori
I SEE EMPATHY on Oliver’s face. He’s hurting for me, for what I’m about to do. Even the cabdriver is eyeing me as he listens to our conversation. Out the windows, New Yorkers go about their late afternoon business as if nothing bad is happening. They’re right. It’s only my little world and the worlds of my employees that’s going to take the hit.
“Know what you’re gonna say?” Oliver asks.
“The truth. As much as I tried and expected differently, you’re all about to be jobless.”
I put my hands to my face and try to stop the tears that are demanding release. Oliver puts an arm around my shoulders and draws me close. He kisses the top of my head.
“The worst part is I’m not able to give them enough warning. My lawyer said we’ve got six weeks, tops. That was after he told me I didn’t have a legal leg to stand on. What a stupid fool I was.”
“You were never the fool, Stori. It’s just the randomness of life. You’re gonna bounce back and so will your employees. They’re young. Resilience is youth’s middle name.”
“Thank you for not stating the obvious,” I say.
“What’s that?”
“I have nothing to be crying about because I have no money problems. That’s true, but it’s not the whole story.”
He takes his arm from my shoulders and turns me towards him.
“Don’t you think I understand the passion behind a dream? Money couldn’t have bought me my dream, and it didn’t buy yours. You’re grieving for Whiskey River, this specific place that you built into something special, the patrons you nurtured and the reputation you built. It’s a big loss. You won’t get over it in a few days or weeks. But I predict it’ll happen because I know the woman I love. She’s a tiger.”
I don’t need to respond because he gets it. I’m amazed at Oliver’s ability to really see me. Our eyes meet and I exhale my sadness.
“Give me a kiss,” he says as we pull up to Whiskey River.
“As soon as you get Louise settled, get your ass back here. I’m going to need you.”
“I’ll be back within the hour.”
I exit the cab and watch as it pulls away. Oh God, I don’t want to do this. I asked all the employees to meet me here and I’m arriving fifteen minutes late because I’m a coward. I didn’t want to have to repeat the bad news twelve times. By now they know something’s up. Good thing my father will be there to help soften the blow.
All the way upstairs and down the narrow hall I’m rehearsing my spiel. But whichever way I say it, it sounds bad. I stop trying to find the perfect words because I know they don’t exist. I’m just going to be genuine in my telling of the story and generous with their final paychecks. They deserve that. I pause in front of the name plate and give it a rub. My fingers linger over the raised letters.
“Whiskey River,” I whisper, as if saying the words will work some magic.
It doesn’t. And so, I swing the door open and face my truth. Twelve pair of eyes turn towards me, and twelve concerned faces.
“Hi. Everybody take a seat please.”
My voice cracks with emotion and I haven’t even delivered the bad news yet. I see Earl’s expression of concern and it just about sets me off. Julie has her head down as if not making eye contact will change what she’s about to hear. The servers and the bartenders just wait silently for the hammer to fall. Where’s my father? He’s supposed to be my backup in case I become a blithering idiot.
“I want you all to know what a privilege it’s been working by your sides. Each one of you has given me your all.”
A few moans and one ‘oh shit’ rises from the group.
“Something totally unexpected has happened, and it’s changed the future of Whiskey River.”
At that very moment when the word river leaves my mouth I hear my cell sound. I reach in my pocket and turn it off.
“Anyway, let me tell the story from the beginning . . .”
I hear the text that’s coming in. I ignore it.
“You all know that Mrs. Abbott, the owner of the property, passed away. She and I had a great relationship and a verbal agreement. When she was ready to sell this property, I’d be the buyer. The problem with that was it was verbal and not legal. I’m so sorry to tell you . . .”
The sound of twelve cell phones ring out, various text tones playing in a funny mix of church bells and stripper music, clock chimes and movie theme songs.
“What the hell?” Is all I can think of saying.
Earl is the first to speak.
“It’s Henry. He wants you to call him now. I think he’s screaming because the word now is in caps.”
Everyone starts talking at once. Henry’s texted the entire list of employees, all with the same message.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to call him,” I say reaching for my phone.
He picks up on the first ring and starts talking in an excited whisper, raising goosebumps on my arms.
“Cookie, don’t say anything to the employees. They may still have their jobs. I’m sending you an address. Get yourself here as soon as possible. Grab a cab and don’t waste any time. I can’t say more now. I’ll meet you in front.”
“Okay, Dad. I’m coming now.”
I return my phone to my pocket and address the group.
“Sorry to do this to you, but Henry may have found an answer to our problems. I’ve got to go meet him. As soon as I know anything I’ll get back here and fill you in.”
I’m out the door in ten seconds, and as I pass the plate on the wall I lean in and kiss it for good luck.
All the way to the mystery location it feels as if I’m thinking and moving in slow motion. I hardly say a word to the cabbie because I’m too busy trying to figure out how my father accomplished this one. Henry’s sharp, but he hasn’t any experience with real estate. Did he smooth talk George Abbott into changing his mind? Not likely. Maybe the buyer backed out.
“Here we are, miss.”
I’m shocked back to reality by the voice of the driver. It takes only a glance to spot my smiling father waiting in front of the high-rise commercial building. I recognize it as one of the most expensive addresses in Manhattan.
“Dad, what’s happening?” I say getting out of the taxi.
He takes me by the arm. “Cookie, you’re not going to believe it. Come with me, there’s too many ears here.” We pass into the impressive building through the revolving door, and he guides me toward the elevators. “You’ll know it all in a few minutes.”
Riding up to the twenty-third floor I’m trying to keep the butterflies in my stomach from taking flight. Unfortunately, we’re not alone. Two other passengers stop me from asking my father to explain what’s happening. But my father and I are exchanging glances full of meaning. One rider gets out on the twentieth floor and the other rides up to our destination.
The door opens to the Manhattan Group Real estate offices. I recognize the world-famous logo of the words Entrust and Rely intertwined. They take up the entire floor, and from the look of things, business is booming.
“This way,” my father says.
He guides me toward the double doors that stand down the hall, furthest from the front desk. A beautifully dressed and impeccably groomed woman sits at her desk outside. She smiles at us warmly.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Ryder, Mr. Ryder. You can go in.”
My father holds the door open so I can enter first. Wow. I’m hit with a floor-to-ceiling view of the skyline of Manhattan. Specifically, the Upper West Side. But the view doesn’t hold my attention long. Sitting in the spectacular office behind a large Regency desk is a man I recognize. He’s the one my father was talking with at Whiskey River the first night Oliver was there. This is the elegant looking man with the white beard who reached over and touched Henry’s hands.
“Hello, Stori. I haven’t seen you since you were a girl.”
The voice is strangely familiar. He stands, extends his hand to me, and I take it.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” I say.
I feel my father’s arm around my waist. “It’s Uncle Billy, Stori. Remember?”
I’m transported in my mind back to my childhood. My father had many friends, but Billy was my favorite. From when I was little, he was always around the house, the only single guy in the group of friends, a bachelor extraordinaire. The wives loved to cook for him, or try to hook him up with their single girlfriends. I liked him because he always brought me a small gift. When I was little some marbles, candy, one time a little doll. When I got to be a teenager, it would be an equally treasured gift, a CD, or a poster of my favorite boy band. And he talked and listened to me. I remember him as one of my father’s best friends. But like everything else I lost my friend when my dad went to prison. I don’t know why it’s affecting me this way but I feel the tears well in my eyes. And in a surprising turn I see his eyes glistening too.
“Billy. It’s been a long time.”
“That it has. Please, sit down, Henry and I have a story to tell you.”
My shaky legs are happy not to be required to support my body. We take our seats.
“What were about to tell you can never be repeated,” he says.
“Okay.”
I agree without hesitation because if my father’s onboard so am I.
“Your father has been instrumental in my life. In the success of my life. Without the choices he made I’d be a very different man living another reality. Let me start at the beginning.”
I glance at my father. He has a serious expression on his face, as if state secrets are about to be revealed.
“When Henry and I were younger, we weren’t as smart as we are now. Not by a long shot. We let our impatience with life and our greed make decisions for us.”
When I look at my father, he nods in agreement.
“We both were struggling financially and couldn’t see our way out.”
Oh shit. Is he going to say what I think he is?
“We decided to rob a jewelry store, and we did. Thought we got away with it for a few hours.”
My stomach turns with the news and my head pounds. This asshole let my father take the blame alone.
My father takes my hand. He knows what I’m thinking.
“It was a mutual decision. No one man convinced the other. It was immoral and stupid on both our parts. Actually, more mine because I had a family.”
“But you were the only one who paid for it,” I say letting the tears fall.
“You’re right, Stori, he paid both of our debts,” Billy says.
“I was the only one who was caught. What good would it do to name my friend? It wasn’t going to buy me a shorter sentence. And even if I had I would have felt like a prick for the rest of my life.”
“All these years your father has kept our secret. He could have easily used it against me. He could have threatened me with exposure. He could have stopped my marriage to one of the wealthiest women in New York. He could have sabotaged my career midrise or blackmailed me. He didn’t do any of it. Instead he held the truth close to his vest and for that I’m forever grateful.”
“What are we doing here? Did you bring me here just to tell me this?” I say with contained rage.
“No. Six months ago I finally found the courage to track him down. He wasn’t hard to find. I showed up one night at Whiskey River and I found the same good man I had known years before. But the kicker was he didn’t hold any ill will towards me.”
“I saw you that night,” I say.
“Really?”
“I thought it strange that someone I didn’t know was touching my father’s hand.”
He just smiles and nods. My father catches my gaze.
“Billy asked that I continue to keep our history private, but if there was ever anything he could do for me . . .”
“I would do it. And now there is,” Billy says.
He opens his desk drawer and removes a stack of papers. He spins them around for me to see. My eyes scan the top page of a real estate contract, and the words Whiskey River, purchase agreement, and my name, jump out.
“What’s this? How?” I say incredulously.
He gives me his familiar smile that hasn’t aged a day.
“I own Whiskey River, and I’m selling it to you. Purchase price as stated.”
I search for the details on the contract and find he’s agreed to the price I was prepared to pay originally.
“Wait! Explain how this happened.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I feel both emotions.
“Henry called and told me about your place and what had happened. He asked if there was anything I could do. There was.”
My father’s smiling the smile of a man who knows he just saved his daughter’s dream.
“But how? I thought it was a done deal,” I say to Billy.
“I offered the seller and the buyer a deal neither could refuse. Mann was satisfied with money. I gave him twenty-five percent over the value of the property. The seller had been baited with a good deal on a strip club Mann owned. He imagined himself surrounded by naked women whenever he pleased. I bought it outright for him. They would have been fools to turn me down. After meeting with each of them it was a given, I could rely on the baser natures of both men. I know something about the subject, having let greed speak for me at one time.”
“This is unbelievable,” I say softly.
“Have your lawyer look it over and we’ll sign on the dotted lines. Congratulations, Stori. According to Henry you’ve earned it with your hard work and tenacity. Good things happen to smart women who hustle. You’re proof of that.”
“It’s inadequate but thank you. Thank you both for what you’ve done for me.”
I feel the tears streaming down my face. I stand and hug both men who are as happy as I am. My father’s crying, Billy’s crying, my heart’s racing with excitement and the release of adrenaline that courses through my veins. Whiskey River’s mine!