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The car I’m in pulls up a block away. It’s another morning of gunmetal gray sky that threatens rain and makes colors saturated.
I’ve done what I can though, I tell myself as I eat up pavement to get to the store. This morning, before I got here, I went over Zoey’s finances. She won’t be able to hold out against me. That’s obvious. The pipe situation, well…I think that and her sudden bank visits to speak to the loans people mean I might be able to back off on the gran thing.
My plan of Zoey giving me money to help with the nonexistent operation is making my stomach more and more knotted.
As I told my brother, I’m not that much of a monster.
But I know Zoey would do it. I suspect that’s why she’s been visiting the bank.
It’s not like I’d keep a cent she gave me. And I was merely going to ask for a few thousand dollars which I know would push her over the wrong colored line, but…I don’t think I have to.
I think I’m going to simply take care of everything else and let the destruction fall naturally. It won’t be long.
My chest tightens as I push open the door to the store and it’s a punch down low when Zoey looks up and smiles.
It’s a million dollar kinda smile, I realize, even when there’s strain and worry at the edges; it shines. Just like her.
“Hey.” I don’t think, I just stride across the floor of the store to where she is at one of the bookshelves and I slide my arm around her and brush her mouth with mine.
Warm. Sweet. Soft. Spiced. Inviting. She’s all that with a complexity that hides below her surface. I could spend weeks diving into all that. Maybe months.
She sighs. “We shouldn’t. We said we’d take it slow.”
“I know.” I kiss the underside of her chin as I brush the hair from her throat with my free hand. “But you’re too delicious.”
Her soft laughter is music.
Zoey pushes free, reluctance at doing so all over her face. “I need to run off this morning. But…” She bites her lip. “Can we talk a little later? I wanted to discuss something with you.”
My heart starts to beat fast. She’s going to offer me the money for fake gran. I can feel it. “Zoey—”
“I should have texted you last night, but I only decided to keep this appointment this morning.” She rises on her toes and kisses me, then the bell dings and she stumbles back and to the counter to grab her bag and coat I didn’t notice that sit there. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“You want me to man the store?”
She smiles again. “You’ve done it before. I trust you.”
And then, she’s gone.
The customer buys a handful of books. They’re looking at the area, because of my name linked to the upcoming project. And it’s interesting to hear the guy talk. He’s like all the well-heeled, looking for a touch of Brooklyn cool, and is saying how he’s looking to buy around here because he knows how the prices will skyrocket once the Sinclair project takes off.
People like that… I shake my head as the guy leaves, and I’m not like him. I can see the value of things, while he’s just trying to cash in, like Zoey’s ex, Bronn.
“Where’s Zoey?”
I frown and stop, staring after the guy who left and Mikey stands there, glancing about, a worried expression on his face. “She had errands.”
“Oh. Yo, why you talking to that dude?”
“The customer who left?” I prep the little bag of treats Zoey always gives the kid, because he’s a little skinny. “I’m meant to do that. You know, the hint lies in the word customer.”
The kid glares at me, but nabs the paper bag I set down. “He was talking about that Sinclair dude.”
“He’s the one behind the after school job you have,” I say, somehow keeping the annoyance out of my voice.
Mikey sniffs. “Yeah, but I don’t see him. And I’m not with the evil arm.” Then the kid looks me up and down in a way I don’t like. “How you know him?”
I’m sure there’s a terrible sitcom in this. Somewhere. I don’t want to get in deeper in my web. I’m the spider, not the fucking fly. So I just say, “He’s running a bunch of charities and centers.”
