Page 45 of Loss and Damages
“Whatever.”
“I wouldn’t say everyone,” I repeat to keep us on track, “and just as a reminder, you can always run again. You’ll be a shoo-in once the residents of St. Charlotte see the positive impact the changes will have on crime in that area. And you can go around the city saying, ‘I told you so.’”
“I could win that election, and this one too. I don’t need to support your project, Milano, and Pitts doesn’t need the money. He’s doing fine with the rents.”
“You’re saying you can’t be bought, is that it, Pitts?” I ask the coward directly, pinning him under my stare. At some point they decided to gang up on me, a situation I hadn’t expected but doesn’t worry me. I’ve never met anyone who couldn’t be bought...or threatened.
“We might need to up the ante,” he says, watching Wilkins out of the corners of his eyes, making sure he’s saying the right thing.
“I may have what we need to get the ball rolling a bit faster.” I pull the picture of Pitts’s family out of my pocket and push it toward him, my arm casually resting against the back of the banquette. I sip my drink. It’s not bad for a dump like this.
“What’s that?” Pitts doesn’t pick it up.
“I think it’s best you look for yourself and see just how far we can up the ante.”
The music changes and the girl on the stage closest to us staggers to her feet and exits stage right. Another girl slightly less attractive but more limber begins her routine doing an upside-down thing that would have interested me if I would’ve been here for any other reason.
Pitts stares at the piece of paper and looks to Wilkins for guidance that doesn’t come. Tentatively, he unfolds it. “What is this?”
“I think that’s your family, or am I mistaken?”
“Where did you get it?”
“From a public social media account. You should tell your girls they need to be more careful with what they post. Pictures...where they check in. You never know when someone will bump into them.”
“What kind of dirty shit is this?” Wilkins asks, slamming his glass onto the table in a pathetic attempt at anger and a play for power he’ll never have.
“I’m merely suggesting if they ever visited the 1100 block, it would be a shame if something happened in such a crime-ridden neighborhood. Especially one that Milano Management and Development is trying to fix.”
“You’re threatening my family.” Pitts’s face contorts in a grimace made even more ghastly by the neon light.
“I don’t need to threaten your family. The second I walked in the door, I could have taken a picture of you with those strippers and splashed it all over the internet. Where would that have gotten us, gentlemen? I want you to work with me, not against me. I’m offering to compensate you handsomely for your cooperation. Frankly, I don’t understand the pushback.”
“Maybe some of us want to do the right thing.” Mayor Wilkins lifts his upper lip in a disgusted snarl.
“Buying the 1100 block and turning the neighborhood into something St. Charlotte can be proud ofisthe right thing.”I drain my glass. “I’m purchasing every building in Oakdale Square and I’ve decided since you’ve forced me to visit, this piece of shit as well. I’ll clean up the streets, and I’ll see to it that you’re not credited for a single brick. Unless, of course, the sale for the 1100 block lands on my desk no later than noon tomorrow.” I gave him until Wednesday but I’m tired of waiting and I jab at the picture of Pitts’s family in annoyance. “I think your wife would tell you that working with me is the right thing to do. Enjoy the rest of your time in this fine establishment, gentlemen. It won’t be here much longer.”
I shove my glass across the scarred table and slide as smoothly as I can off the sticky bench. God knows what’s happened on that Naugahyde.
Without looking back, I walk out of the club, the kid at the door giving me a knowing smirk. I stop on a weedy patch of grass and leave a message on my PA’s voicemail. “The Scarlet Wing. I want it, and once it’s mine, I’m going to burn it down.”
The kid’s mouth drops open.
At Leo’s, I shower, standing under the spray for a long time, but all the hot water in the world can’t rinse away the shame I felt when I threatened Pitts’s family and the fear that shot through his beady eyes because he knows I can do whatever the fuck I want and get away with it.
That’s the kind of man Leo hated.
Dad would have been proud of me.
That evening, I drive to Jemma’s. I expected her to be at her cottage, maybe sitting and drinking wine on her porch, but through the glass of the gallery’s front door, I see her flip thesign from Open to Closed. She must have stayed late to help a customer.
I can’t explain why I came out here. The ride from St. Charlotte to Hollow Lake calmed my nerves, big, puffy white clouds floating through the brilliant blue sky. The farmland was a lush green, and as the city faded behind me, so did all my tension.
I’m beginning to understand why Leo drove out to Hollow Lake every day. It wasn’t only to see Jemma. She’s a big part of it, but the sight of the lake glimmering in the sun, the birds flying overhead, and the leaves blowing in the soft summer breeze, they help me breathe.
I park in her driveway and she pauses on the back porch, a set of keys in her hand.
I cut the engine and push out of the truck, my eyes never leaving hers. She’s had time to think about our kiss and I don’t know how she feels about that or about me. “Did you have a good day?”
