Things got worse after that, not better. I had him around my place more often than when we were together. He was sitting in his car, staring at me, the engine running. Peering in through my windows, following me wherever I went. I’d be in the grocery store, and he’d appear at the end of the aisle.
When he started breaking in, and I got the police involved, I thought that would be the end of it. But the restraining order only seemed to embolden him.
Can’t hurt me now, though, can he? “It’s funny,” I say out loud. “Now you say it. It seems so obvious.”
“Same with most things. You don’t see it until it’s right in front of your face, sometimes not even then.” He points at the keys. “So you going to go look at your new store?”
I swallow hard. I could refuse to take the keys. But it’s not like I’m taking blood money from Hunter. He doesn’t want anything from me. “If he’s innocent, why’s he moving to Rome?”
“Fresh start. Says there are too many bad memories in Chicago.”
“And you’re sure there isn’t a catch if I accept?”
“There’s nothing to accept. It’s done. The store is legally yours whether you pick those keys up. Everything is already put in place.”
“So what happens if I say no?”
“First, I’d think you were foolish. Secondly, it would sit there gathering dust until you changed your mind. You carried out a job for my client. This is your payment. You didn’t want his money, fine. I can appreciate your honor is important but refusing this isn’t about honor. It’s stubbornness. Unnecessary stubbornness. Call it a severance package. Call it a goodbye present. Call it what you want, but I can’t spend all day talking about it. You taking the keys or not?”
“Fuck it,” I say, grabbing the keys and squeezing them in my palm. “Did he mention me to you at all?”
“Only that I was to give you this file and those keys. Now our business is concluded, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Goodbye, Bex Fox. It’s been a pleasure.”
58
Bex
* * *
“Sorry,” Ursula says from the other side of the kitchen table. “Run that by me again.”
“We are joint owners of an up-and-coming fashion boutique in Northfield.” I jangle the keys in front of her face. “Do you get it now?”
“I get it. I just don’t understand how. Last I heard, you were heading out the door for a court hearing to get your marriage annulled. Now you’ve bought the store? Did I miss a step somewhere?”
I shake my head. “It’s elementary. I went to court and met up with Hunter’s lawyer. We got the annulment sorted, and that was weird enough. Then he asked me back to his office, saying he’s got something important he was supposed to give me. I get there, and he gives me these keys and that file in front of you. I’ve looked through it. Our names are on everything. We own the store. It’s ours.”
“So Hunter bought it for you even after you got the annulment? You sure it wasn’t a bribe to keep you married?”
“I only found out after I left court, and he’d already signed the petition to say he agreed with my position on things. Admitted coercing me into the marriage. I was under duress and felt intimidated into agreeing to be his bride. Said it was for business reasons, not love, and he was fine with retracting the whole thing.”
“Well, I thought I’d already encountered the weirdest part of my day, but you just topped it. Congratulations, fellow boutique owner.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see the new issue?”
“New issue of what?”
“Of Unique Couture Monthly, of course.”
“But there isn’t a new issue. We got shut down.”
“And then Augustine said we could go back to work. Turns out some people have been working harder than others.”
She reaches under the table and brings out a huge magazine, sliding it toward me. “What do you think?”
I look at the cover. “The Tonia Falcone interview?”