Control (19 page)

I didn’t call Dion to tell him what was happening. Instead I went to the shop and leaving Tabitha and Spike to work the front, locked myself in the back office and began calling my suppliers. I’d done business with them for several years and asked if they were willing to extend me credit on good faith, until my snafu was resolved.

With the economic climate as dismal as it was, all my suppliers said no—with regret. They needed to protect their bottom line.

I understood that.

But I also understood that without flowers and other supplies coming in, I would have to shut down the shop within a week.

I was certain that Robert wanted me to call him—and even Spike said I should—but I was hell-bent on finding another way to resolve my problem.

I couldn’t have been more surprised when Robert appeared outside my shop two hours later. He smiled at me through the window, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The kind that made my back go rigid with alarm.

I realized I was scared of him. I truly didn’t know how far he would go to make me come back to him.

Turning my gaze back to the customer I was serving, I tried to act as though Robert’s unexpected appearance hadn’t put me on edge. “So, Wednesday morning?”

“Yes,” the middle-aged woman replied. There was sadness in her eyes. “Can you have it delivered to the funeral home?”

“Yes, of course,” I told her gently.

“Good. Because there is so much to take care of. And I want…I just want…”

“To make sure everything’s perfect,” I finished gently.

The woman nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

My own eyes shot to the window. I watched as Robert spoke to a woman who looked as if she’d been about to enter my shop. Was I paranoid, or did the woman’s expression register surprise at whatever Robert had told her? I saw him nod, and then the woman shrugged and walked on.

What the hell?

“She lived a good life,” the woman in front of me was saying now. “And she went peacefully. But it’s never easy to lose your mother.”

“No. No, never. Don’t worry. You write down all the
details here of where you want the flowers delivered, itemize the selections you want, and I’ll take care of the rest.” I paused. “And…I hate to ask this, but there’s a problem with my computer system right now. Would it be possible for you to pay in cash?”

“That’d be fine.”

Thank God
. If I could collect cash from most of my customers, I might have enough to wire a payment to one of my suppliers. Because I had orders to fill for weddings and other occasions. I stood to lose a ton of business if I couldn’t get what I needed.

Robert continued to stand outside, staring in at me. Obviously, he was trying to intimidate me. I hated the fact that he was succeeding. “If you’ll excuse me for just a minute…” I said to the customer.

I started for the door. I had the awful feeling that Robert had just sent a potential customer away. What the hell was he doing?

Seeing me approach, he grinned.

But it wasn’t any warmer this time around. Or any more sincere.

I opened the door and stepped outside. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you, too, Elsie.”

“Cut the crap. Did you come here to gloat? To see if I had to close down the shop?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Bastard!
I wanted to yell. Instead I said, “My accounts have been frozen, Robert. Because
you
alerted the bank manager to an
identity theft
issue. Do you honestly think that by intimidating me you’ll make me want to forgive
you? Not to mention the crap you told Treasure about me.” I gritted my teeth, took a breath, then continued. “Fix this, Robert. Call the bank and fix this.”

“Let’s have dinner this evening and talk things through,” Robert said. “If you can be reasonable, so can I.”

He sounded so levelheaded, as if he was offering to be fair—but I knew better.

I didn’t want the unpleasantness. And as far as I was concerned, I was being more than reasonable. I wasn’t trying to fight Robert for his money. My lawyer believed I was entitled to more than a million dollars, given Robert’s vast fortune. But all I wanted was to come out of the marriage with my business.

“Do the right thing,” I reiterated, then turned and went back into the store.

My accounts were still frozen the next day, and the stress was getting to me.

Spike and Maxine were working with me, and I sat them down at the beginning of their shifts and explained to them that I was having a cash flow problem. Unfortunately, until the problem was resolved, I couldn’t issue their paychecks. But I assured them I would have the matter settled by the end of the week.

Spike took the news in stride, as I knew he would. But late that afternoon, Maxine asked if she could speak privately with me.

“What’s on your mind, Maxine?” I asked when we were both in my office.

She bit her cheek for a moment, not saying anything. She looked conflicted. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I know you and your husband are having problems, and I’m really sorry about that because I love working here. I was hoping to work as many hours as possible this summer to make enough money for my next semester of school. But it doesn’t sound like that’s going to happen now.”

“It’s a temporary setback, Maxine.”

“My parents got divorced, and it was awful. Their assets were tied up in court for years as they battled over who would get what.”

“I promise I’ll have this mess sorted out by next week.” One way or another, I would have to.

“Even if you do, I—” Maxine’s voice broke off “I—”

“What, Maxine?”

She fidgeted with her hands, not meeting my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I—I have to. I’m really sorry, but I have to quit.”

“Maxine, no.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, and fled from the office in tears.

By the next morning, I’d been able to meet with my lawyer, but the news wasn’t good.

We would have to go to court and petition the judge to intervene. But it might be weeks before we could get a court date, even one considered an emergency.

“I’m going to appeal to your husband’s lawyer that we
all sit down as soon as possible and iron out a separation agreement,” Diane explained. Robert had, as I assumed he would, retained Clayton Gunter. “You shouldn’t have to close your business temporarily to deal with this. Unfortunately, based on my conversations with Gunter, it’s clear he’s going to play hardball. Did you find your copy of the prenuptial agreement?”

I shook my head. “No. I’d had it in my home office with my files. I searched every box I took from the house and it’s not there.”

Diane frowned. “I’m sure the attorney who drafted it will have a copy—”

“But he’s one of Robert’s friends. I don’t trust anything anymore.”

“Don’t you worry,” Diane said. “You won’t be left penniless.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, and as I left Diane’s office and went back to work, I was torn. Should I see Robert, even though I hated the idea of caving? Or should I stand my ground, even if it meant I would possibly have to close the shop for weeks?

With no new supplies, and my accounts frozen, I couldn’t stay open much longer. Dion had offered to lend me some money, but I declined. This was a problem I needed to deal with on my own.

But how to deal with it?

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get around the fact that I might have to give Robert what he wanted in order for him to agree to solve the problem. As much as I didn’t want to see him, maybe I had to.

Beg. That’s what he likely wanted me to do.

I might just have to.

Or…perhaps there was another way. I had a good deal of jewelry. Maybe I could sell it.

I glanced at my left hand on the steering wheel. The indentation from my wedding bands was still evident. The engagement ring and diamond wedding band had cost thousands. I had stunning necklaces, earrings and bracelets. Surely I could sell those for a decent amount of cash.

The very idea made my chest tighten. I loved the jewelry Robert had bought for me, and there were happy memories attached to the pieces. I didn’t want to hate Robert when we divorced. I wanted someday to be able to think of him with fondness. I wanted to wear my diamond and tanzanite necklace, for example, and remember with warmth the wonderful vacation we’d had in Aruba when he’d bought it for me. Just because we wouldn’t be married anymore didn’t mean there had to be bitterness and resentment.

But the sad truth was there would be no amicable parting from Robert. There was bitterness and resentment with his two ex-wives. I was bitter and resentful. It was becoming increasingly clear that our relationship would end up exactly the same way.

As I neared my shop, I felt better about the idea of selling my jewelry. I couldn’t take it to a pawnshop. I would have to see if I could find some kind of broker who could sell the pieces for the best possible price.

But how long will that take?

My predicament was all I could think about as I pulled up in front of my store. I was out of the car and heading
to the door when I noticed that the store’s neon Closed sign was displayed.

Where was Spike? It was almost eleven, and the store should have been open. With Maxine gone, and Tabitha not scheduled until the afternoon, Spike should have been inside hustling to get the orders made with the flowers we had. I also wanted to create some bouquets to put on racks in front of the store, hoping to sell them quickly. The inventory I had wouldn’t last forever.

As I unlocked the door, concern shot through me. Had Spike been in an accident? If he’d been unable to make it to work, certainly he would have called. So something serious had to be wrong.

I hurried into the shop and rushed right to the phone, ready to call his number. I was already trying to think who I could call to find out what might have happened to him if I couldn’t reach him.

And that’s when I noticed the small bouquet of flowers on the front counter, one that wasn’t normally there.

Beneath the blue vase was a folded slip of paper.

With a bad feeling washing over me, I snatched it up and quickly opened it.

Ten-thirty. If Spike had been here at ten-thirty, then
I had missed him by about twenty-five minutes. I continued reading.

I read the note again, not understanding it any better the second time around.

In the five years that Spike had worked for me, he had never called in sick—even when he should have. That’s how responsible he was about his job, and how he showed his gratitude for me giving him a chance. And he had always shared with me whatever drama he was dealing with in his life, from his mother trying to bring about a reconciliation between him and his father, to the bad dating choices he made. I’d gone to the clinic with him when he’d had an HIV scare. As far as I was concerned, it didn’t get any more personal than that.

I didn’t doubt that he would still come in even if he thought he wouldn’t get paid. He was that kind of friend. Which was why his writing me a note and tell
ing me not to ask him any questions…well, it simply didn’t make any sense.

I punched in the digits of Spike’s home number. Either he wasn’t home or he didn’t pick up. I called his BlackBerry. Same deal.

Feeling slightly better because at least I knew he was okay, I sent him a text message.

What’s going on? Please call me.

I didn’t bother adding that I wasn’t about to let him quit on me. When I spoke to him, I would tell him that in person—and find out exactly what was going on.

But that would have to wait, because it was shortly after eleven, and I had work to do.

My calls and texts to Spike went unanswered for the rest of the day, and I was very concerned. What if he’d been in a car crash, after all, or had done something crazy like overdose on pills? I didn’t truly believe that scenario had happened, but what if Marcus had broken Spike’s heart again and he was feeling depressed? A second breakup with the only man he’d loved could have him acting irrationally.

People always expressed complete surprise when they learned that someone close to them had committed suicide, believing the person incapable of anything so drastic. Unfortunately, I knew that Spike
was
capable. He’d confided in me that when Marcus broke his heart five years ago, he had been so despondent that he’d taken a bottle of Tylenol. A friend had found him
passed out, seen the empty bottle and called 911, and he’d been rushed to emergency, where his stomach had been pumped.

In my heart, I expected to find Spike at home and depressed, most likely nursing another broken heart. But I’d be lying if I said the reality that he’d attempted suicide before wasn’t playing on my mind.

I dialed Dion’s cell. He picked up almost immediately. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, sweetie. I’m calling to let you know I won’t be home for a bit. Spike didn’t show up today—and I’m concerned. I’m heading to his place to check on him.”

Dion’s voice was laced with concern. “Of course. Want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m already on the road. Besides, if Spike’s there, I have the feeling that I’ll have to have a heart-to-heart with him. For him not to show up is totally out of character, and I’m betting his boyfriend broke his heart again.”