Page 25 of Muted

My phone rings just as I’m pulling into the lot of the gym. I answer the phone as I turn into a parking spot and then smirk when I see his car. “You’re at the gym.” It’s the first thing I say in greeting.

“How’d you know?” he asks.

“I’m here. I’ll see you in a few.” Disconnecting the phone, I grab my bag from the floor of the passenger side. I always keep it with me just in case I make an unplanned detour here, which I’ve noticed has been happening a lot more lately.I need to get a handle on my shit.

Walking to the entrance, I lift my chin in greeting to my lifelong friend. “I know why I’m here this late, but why areyouhere?” I ask, allowing him to hold the door for me as I enter. He follows me inside, grunting in annoyance.

“Susu.” That’s all he says. I want to ask him to explain, but then he adds, “And Cliff. Fucking Cliff, man…” he trails off as he wrenches a locker open and changes into workout clothes quickly.

I really want to have this conversation, so I stop changing just after I tug off my shirt. “Wait. Do you really want to work out? We could go grab a drink or something. I want to talk about this shit. She’s the reason I’m here, too.”

Chaz pauses his movements and studies me. “What about her is bothering you?”

Barking out a humorless laugh, I shake my head and put my shirt back on. “Sofucking much. I don’t want to work out anymore. Drinks. Drinks are what we need to do.”

Sighing, he pulls his stuff back out of the locker and, at least this time, gets dressed again a little less aggressively than the way he was tearing everything off. “Fine. I’ll meet you over on 5th.”

There’s a bar there that is normally pretty relaxed and quieter than some of the bigger places. It’s just a hole in the wall and one we’ve often frequented over the years.

Within fifteen minutes, we’re sitting at the end of the bar with cold pints. I debated ordering something stronger, but I suspect we may be here for a bit. I take a long swig and then urge him to talk. “Tell me about Cliff first.”

The way his face hardens tells me whatever happened isnotgood. He cracks his neck once and then meets my eyes.

“He doesn’t seem to understand the financial difficulties the bar is having right now. He’d rather keep taking money over and above his income.” I wait as he works through whatever is bothering him. My friend has always been open about the business even though I just work there. “You know that loan he took out last year when he bought his place?”

“Yeess?” I drawl out. It’s fresh in my memory because I remember helping him move and he was a diva about it the entire fucking time. Barely a thank you for spending my entire two days off hauling boxes and furniture around.

Glaring at his almost empty glass, Chaz’s next words have my eyebrows hitting my hairline. “He told me he needed ten thousand, which was the highest I was comfortable with.” His eyes flick up to meet mine once more. “He borrowed forty against the bar. I don’t know if I’m more pissed at him for thinking that was okay, or at myself for not seeing it. He’s the one that’s been handling the books, and I just look at the bottom numbers when I do purchase orders.”

“Jesus.” I have no idea what to say, let alonethinkabout Cliff taking that kind of cash. Cliff just keeps dropping bombshells.

“Today, he told me he’s thinking of getting into real estate and wants another twenty-five to buy a condo.”

Snorting, I shake my head at how ridiculous he is. “I’m assuming he hasn’t paid back the first loan yet. What’s he doing? Flipping and reselling? The dude already complains about the time he spends at Sonority.”

“I know,” Chaz grumbles.

Waving at the bartender for another round, I say, “I’m not sure where you’re at with everything, but maybe it’s time to buy him out? Take over full ownership. I know you needed him when you started because he had the funds from his family, which, by the way, why the hell isn’t he asking them for money?”

He shrugs, defeated by the shitstorm that is named Clifford Ford. “I’d love to buy him out, but with the numbers, his loan, and his over inflated self-worth, I don’t think I could afford it right now.”

I’m itching to move the topic over to Susu Walston, but this is more important right now. “I could do it,” I tell him, holding back a laugh when his head whips up to study me.

“What do you mean you could do it? Buy out Cliff?”

Nodding, I smile at the bartender in thanks when he drops off two more beers for us. “I don’t think I’d do well with the actual business side of it, but I could do that whole silent partner thing. At least it’d get Cliff out the door.” Actually, the more I think about it, the more I feel a sense of contentment roll over me. It makes sense to stick with Chaz. We’ve been best friends since we were in elementary school.

“How do you have the funds for—”

I cut him off with a grin. “I saved my reenlistment bonus. Plus tucked most of my pay away when I was deployed. Didn’t know what I wanted to do with that kind of cash. And honestly, you pay me really well. Find out what the number would be. Let’s get Cliff’s hands out of the cookie jar.”

The way he sits up straighter reinforces that this is a good as fuck idea. “Fuck, this feels right. Right?”

“It does. It makes sense honestly. Let’s figure it out. Definitely don’t let him take another loan. He’ll get enough from the buyout, anyway.”

When he laughs, it sounds joyful, and I’m thankful I never blew through my savings. “Oh, I already said no, but I’m sure he’s going to circle back to it.”

We chat for a few more minutes before I guide the conversation away from the ‘hostile takeover’ planning. “So, you mentioned something about Susu?”

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