A Deal With the Devil (16 page)

Show’s over folks.

Out on the sidewalk, Kate pointed a leather-gloved finger at Amanda. “Call me later. And I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

* * *

Rob lived nearby and it wasn’t too cold outside, so Amanda decided to walk. At the first intersection, the light turned red. She stopped and turned back in time to see Kate waddle around the corner, headed toward the yoga studio. She shook her head. Kate meant well, but she didn’t get it. And how could she? Her parents were still around.

The light changed and Amanda crossed the street with the crowd, while she practiced her approach to confronting Rob. She had no idea what to say to him and with each step closer to his apartment, the knot in her stomach grew tighter and larger. Before she knew it, she stood in front of his door—still absolutely clueless as to what she’d say. So she stood there for a full five minutes before she summoned the courage to knock.

She rapped on the door three times.

Take control early. That’s the key.

She stood there for several minutes and when he didn’t open the door, she knocked again, louder this time. When he still didn’t answer, Amanda checked her watch. Nine-thirty. Maybe he had already left for the restaurant. Yeah, that was it. She’d come back later.

She turned away, so relieved to be off the hook, she felt weak in the knees. Thank God he wasn’t home because she had no earthly idea what tough love even looked like. She’d have to Google it as soon as she got home so she’d be better prepared when she actually had to do it.

The door opened. Amanda stopped in her tracks and turned to see Rob in the doorway. Her stomach dropped. Not even Google could help her now.

“Hey, sis,” Rob said as he opened the door wider. “What’re you doing here?”

She stepped inside and after surveying his rumpled appearance and equally messy apartment, she shook her head in disapproval. “It’s nine-thirty. Please tell me you weren’t still in bed.”

You enable him
, Kate’s voice whispered.

Pipe down
. She wasn’t in the mood to hear it from Kate’s evil twin right now. She needed to concentrate.

Rob yawned and mussed his hair as he shuffled into the living room. He scratched his chest and said, “I was out late.”

She trailed behind him. “Working at the restaurant?”

“A couple of us went to a club.”

Irritation simmered and her jaw felt tight as she said, “You’d get farther faster with your business if you put less emphasis on your social life.”

Rob raised his brows and glanced over his shoulder. “You’re pissed because I went out last night?”

Irritation turned to a low boil. He didn’t get it. “I’m somewhere between disappointed and pissed.” She studied his face. “You’re not being responsible.”

Rob plopped down on the sofa and gazed up at her. “What do you mean?”

“You stay out late and party. You sleep in when you should be at work. You constantly ask for money you
know
I don’t have.”

“So you’re really mad about the money.”

She didn’t miss his blasé attitude. “It’s partly about the money, partly about your actions. You’ve yet to demonstrate that you’re ready to own a business.” He didn’t even take accountability for himself. Amanda wished she could express the sentiment aloud, but she couldn’t make herself do it. The words would sound too harsh and once said, she’d never be able to take them back.

“I’m ready. It just takes longer to get a business off the ground than you’d think.”

“Yes” —she cast a pointed glance— “it does; especially when your social life comes first.”

“I went out last night; it’s not something I do all the time.”

She was quiet for a long while and then said, “I think you need to work for someone else awhile longer.”

“You don’t get ahead when you manage a restaurant; you get ahead when you own one.”

Amanda perched on the edge of the sofa and crossed her legs. “You can get ahead later. You’re only twenty-three.”

His brow creased. “What are you saying?”

She drew in a fortifying breath and forced the words out. “I need the twenty thousand back.”

His eyes grew round as saucers. “But I don’t have it anymore.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it?” Her voice sounded sharper than she’d intended and she willed herself to calm down as she said, “I just gave it to you a day and a half ago. You couldn’t possibly have spent it yet.”

He shrugged as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “We owed the construction company money and used it to pay them so we could get the interior finish work done.”

Stay calm. The money’s probably still in their bank account. She looked down at the tips of her shoes and counted to ten. One of her favorite business books recommended the tactic to avoid making unfortunate outbursts when in stressful situations. She combined that with the deep breathing she’d learned from the yoga class she attended occasionally. Breathe . . .

Kate’s advice from earlier drifted back; it was time for some tough love.

Amanda assembled every scrap of courage she possessed and dove in. “Rob, go to your partners and get that money back.” She internally congratulated herself on how effectively she’d channeled Kate’s miss-bossy-pants tone. Then again, it should have been easy; she’d been the recipient of it more times than she cared to count.

Rob looked unfazed. “I can’t. They don’t have the cash either.”

“You need to ask.” She fixed him with her best intimidating look.

He appeared unmoved. “I’m telling you; they don’t
have
it.”

Amanda chewed the inside of her lip. Now what? Kate’s way hadn’t worked. What came after tough love?

She glanced at Rob and noted he appeared completely unfazed by the conversation, which only added to her consternation. She watched him lounge on the sofa, totally relaxed and indifferent to her panic. While she didn’t agree with Kate’s perspective, in this instance she could understand why her friend considered Rob a taker and, occasionally, a brat. In that moment, Amanda was inclined to agree with her. She needed to leave before she said a bunch of things she’d regret later.

She stood and headed for the door.

Rob followed, his bare feet slapping the floor like a child and his voice approached a whine as he said, “Why did you give me the money if you just planned to ask for it back?”

He didn’t attempt to hide his peevish tone or mask his total lack of concern for her needs. He hadn’t even bothered to probe her reasons for needing the money back, just as he’d never truly thanked her for the amount she’d given him already. Or anything else she’d done for him the past ten years.

She studied his face. Looking past the brooding expression and mussed appearance, she saw the reminders of their parents. They were there in the slant of Rob’s eyes and the line of his jaw and it caused her tone to soften as she said, “I’m sorry I gave you the money, because I didn’t have it to give.” Rob frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but she shook her head and said, “Save it. We’re done for now. I’ll call you later when I’m not so pissed.”

Amanda closed the door behind her and Amanda felt numb as she trudged down the hall and into the elevator. When she walked outside, it was like someone had hit the mute button on Chicago. The cars, the El, horns and people—Amanda heard none of it as she made her way home. By the time she arrived, a little cloud of doom had settled over her.

She dropped her coat, purse and keys onto a chair and plodded down the hall to the bedroom. Months of sleepless nights caught up and she didn’t even attempt to fight the fatigue. She shut the blinds, stripped down to her underwear, unplugged the phone and then crawled into bed, yanked up the covers and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

“You’re drunk,” George declared as the elevator doors opened.

Amanda giggled and handed him the keys to her apartment as she swayed from side to side. “So are you.”

George fiddled with the keys but finally got the door unlocked. He held it open and followed her inside. “Not as drunk as you,” he said. “You girls can’t hold your liquor.”

“Yes we can.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I still can’t believe you’re taking a leave of absence. All night, I’ve been wondering what we’ll do without you at the office. You’re the miracle-worker; the one everyone depends on. We’ll sure miss you.”

“I’ll missh you guys too.”

“You’re slurring your words.”

“Who caresh? I don’t have to get up in the morning.” She kicked off a shoe with all the grace of an NFL Hall of Fame punter. The black patent leather pump whizzed by George’s dark head, missing his cheek by little more than an inch.

“Hey, watch it!” George glanced over his shoulder as one shoe landed on the coffee table. She kicked off the other and it flew over his head, crashing onto the sofa, where it dangled precipitously off the edge.

Amanda threw her head back and laughed.

George raised a dark brow. “You’re drunker than I thought. This leave of absence thing may not be such a good idea. When will you be back?”

She shrugged and weaved into the kitchen. “Dunno.”

“This isn’t like you, Amanda. What’s going on?”

Her head snapped up. “Nothing.” Nothing she wanted to talk about with him, anyway. While she didn’t believe George would spread gossip at the office, she still couldn’t bring herself to confide in him. Plus, she’d signed the damned confidentiality agreement, so legally she couldn’t do so anyway.

“You need coffee.”

She waved him away. “I don’t want coffee. I want wine.”

“You don’t need more wine. And I have to go to work tomorrow, so I don’t either.”

“I’m having
wi-i-ne
,” she sang as she pulled a bottle of Chardonnay from the refrigerator.

“So, you’re as hard-headed out of the office as you are while there. I wondered . . .” He shook his head and watched her pour. “You need to take some aspirin or you’ll have a massive hangover in the morning. Where’s your bathroom.”

Amanda pointed toward the hall and then shoved the cork back in the bottle. George followed her finger and disappeared around the corner.

She picked up her glass and swallowed a large portion of wine just as someone knocked on the door; loudly. “Come in,” Amanda called, also loudly—too busy with her wine to answer the door and far too busy to wonder who might be stopping by so late.

“Why are you ignoring my calls? I need an answer, Amanda.”

She spun round and some wine sloshed onto the floor. “What’re you doing here?”

Jake’s eyes narrowed as they focused first on her glass and then shifted to the bottle. “Are you drunk?”

“Nope,” she lied, as she took a sip.

George walked through the other doorway. “Here’s your aspir . . .” His voice trailed off when he saw Jake.

Furious blue eyes locked with curious brown ones as the two men spoke in unison. “Who are you?”

Chapter Nine

ake had the guy sized up inside a minute and he didn’t like his conclusion. “Who are you,” he repeated, fixing the other man with his most intimidating glare.