Page 32 of Redemption
The patio vibrated under the weight of his steps as he approached me. He leaned against the railing next to me, ran a hand through his hair, and lifted a lighter to a cigarette pressed between his lips. My face twisted in disbelief.
“Don’t smoke! What’s wrong with you?”
“Relax, it’s organic,” he said.
I reached out for it, and he turned his face away, but I was faster. I grabbed the cigarette from his mouth before he could light it, crushed it, and tossed it over the railing.
He watched it fall to the ground, then looked at me. “Well, that was my last one, so I hope you’re happy,” he said, seeming to enjoy this somehow.
“I am not happy, Gabriel. Everything is messed up, and you’re an idiot.”
“Let’s start with how everything is messed up, then we can address why you think I’m an idiot.”
“That doesn’t really need to be addressed, does it?”
“Yes, it does, because I’m not an idiot.”
“Well, I guess that depends on who you ask.”
He laughed. “Clever girl. But seriously, tell me what’s wrong.”
He looked like he cared, and a small part of me was glad to see it. I let out a long breath and sat down at his patio table. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I was thinking about quitting to get away from you, obviously. I took a few sick days to think about it, but during those days, everything fell apart. Cabana Cup cut my hours to basically nothing, Henry freaked out and canceled the art event, so I made no money from sales. Henry offered to let me pay rent with the painting I was working on, but”—I gestured toward the beach—“you know what happened to that.”
“I’m sorry all of this is happening to you, Sophia. I understand why you needed a few days to think, but don’t quit. You still have another day off tomorrow, but after that, you should come back to the office. You should accept the raise you’ve earned.”
“I didn’t earn it, Gabriel.”
He shook his head and looked out to the ocean. “We discovered they were intentionally polluting the water to save money. I made them pay us to keep the government out of it. You were a part of this, so why do you think you didn’t earn it? Please, explain it to me.”
“Stealing money isn’t the same as earning money.”
“So what would the government have done differently if we had reported this? Would you think they were stealing money from Rosso Drilling by imposing a fine?”
“I… I probably wouldn’t. But that is different, and you know it.”
“The only difference is the government has enough power to not fear consequences or retaliation from Rosso Drilling. But something you need to realize is, we don’t either.”
“Gabriel, you aren’t?—”
He cut me off. “Let me ask you something. I want you to answer honestly.”
“Okay, sure. What?”
“Is fear of consequence the only reason you rejected the money, or do you have some moral dilemma about making bad people pay for what they’ve done?”
I didn’t respond for a long moment, not wanting to admit it. Finally, I looked up at him.
“Yes, Gabriel, the only reason I rejected the money was because I have an issue with making corrupt corporations get what they deserve.” I rolled my eyes at him—thanks to him, it was becoming a habit. “Fuck Rosso Drilling. They’re destroying the environment for profit, and they don’t care about what’s right and wrong. I hate to admit it, but a lot of what you said in the restaurant is true. I’m tired of other people screwing me over. So yes, hypothetically, if it was safe, I would take their money and smile at the thought of using them for my benefit or whatever you said. But that’s just not how life works. You do realize they most likely went to the cops after paying you, right?”
He just smiled and walked away.
“Where are you going?” I called after him. He stepped inside for a moment, then returned with something in his hand. As he got closer, I realized it was a pair of binoculars.
“And what are these for, Gabriel?” I asked, suspicious.
“They’re to see if you were telling me the truth,” he said, handing them to me.
“What? I don’t understand.”
