“Food?” The only connection I have with food is Orchard’s job.
“Yeah.” He sticks the cards into the shuffler and picks up a snifter of brandy. “One of my clients heard that you were making moves on Good Foods and wanted to know if he should buy in.”
“You should tell him no as I’m not going to buy any grocery chain. The margins are too low.”
“That’s what I thought but my client isn’t one to move on baseless rumors.”
“Well, now you’re a hero because you can tell him that it’s not true and that he should spend his money on something else.”
Redmond bangs his fist on the table. “We agreed that there would be no business talk during the game.”
“He’s right. You two violated the rules. Pay up.” Wright wriggles his fingers. As I’m reaching for my wallet, my phone buzzes.
“Uh uh. Phones are not allowed either,” Wright warns.
“It’s Orchard.” I throw my wallet on the table. “Take whatever you want.”
I open the phone and read the text.
Her: How much do grocery stores cost?
My jaw drops.
“Bad news?”
I gather up my things. “I guess I’m buying a grocery store chain,” I tell them.
Blank’s shocked face follows me as I leave.
You just buying one? I text as I climb the stairs out of Blank’s basement to the front door of his townhome. My bodyman, Jimmy, taps his earpiece to call for the car and hurries to open the door.
Her: Just the one.
Ordinarily, I need a whole proposal and due diligence form but I don’t care if I lose millions on this. I think this is the first time she’s asked me for anything.
Me: Depends on location and size but mostly location.
I’m assuming it’s the one she works at. The town car pulls up. I mouth the word “home” to Jimmy. He slams the door shut behind me and we take off.
Her: It’s the one I work at.
I shouldn’t be surprised she knows this. She did get a business degree. But seeing her rattle off numbers fills me with pride. She’s so fucking smart.
Me: Market capitalization would be around one hundred million then. It’s a small company. You’d need maybe twenty-five percent?
Her: Bummer. That’s what I thought.
Me: Why’s it a bummer?
Her: Because I don’t have enough.
I flip to her bank account and take a look. She’s a few million short. With a few taps, I solve that problem.
Me: You do now.
She doesn’t respond right away and the three dots blinking on my screen send my blood pressure soaring. I lay the phone face down and try not to pretend I’m counting every second until she responds. What seems like a year later, I get a reply.
Her: I didn’t mean for you to give me the money. I can get investors for this.
The hell she will. Taking money from someone else is like letting another man into her bedroom—a place that I don’t even go, for God’s sake.
Me: Either take the money from me or forget about the store.
Her: But if I take the money from you, then you own it, not me.
Me: I don’t care what you do with a grocery store. Buy it and burn it to the ground but you’re not taking money from another man.
Her: I don’t want to owe you! I already owe you too much. I just wanted to know how much you thought it would cost. That’s it!
Me: If you take money from another man, I will lock you in your bedroom and you won’t see the outdoors until you’re eighty.
Her: If you do that, I’ll leave you.
Me: Negative. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. There’s not a place on this damn earth you can hide from me and the sooner you realize that the better.
I’m angry and I shouldn’t be responding but a man can only be pushed so far. Orchard’s my wife and I take that vow of ‘till death do us part’ seriously.
4
Orchard
Negative. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. There’s not a place on this damn earth you can hide from me and the sooner you realize that the better.
I read the words over and over again. They should scare me but they don’t. They should even make me mad but still they don’t. What they do is cause my body and heart to react in a way that I’m not ready to deal with yet. I’m not sure if it’s excitement from poking him a little or something else.
The way that I’m suddenly clenching my thighs together tells me it’s the latter. I set my phone down next to me in order to get some sort of self-control. If not, I’ll continue analyzing my husband’s words. That’s the bad thing about text messages, you have no idea what emotion is being expressed by the other person. So it’s left up to you to decipher if they meant the words as happy, sad, sarcastic or whatever else. I sigh, knowing it’s a lost cause.