"Are you flushing them?"
He comes back with a plastic trash bag. "I can't do that. Emma has lectured me too many times about how you aren't supposed to flush certain things because it'll get into the water table."
"You are so whipped."
"Hell yeah, I am." He takes his hand and sweeps all the pill bottles on the table into the bag and then ties it closed. "I'm not going to dispose of all these bottles yet. Just in case your doctor wants you to wean off of them. But I'll keep them with me. I'll come over and give them to you when you need them."
"Okay." My eyes follow the bag until he stuffs it into the corner of the couch behind him and out of sight.
When he speaks again, his voice is just as shaky as mine. "All this time, I thought it was Mom. Her pills disappeared so fast and all she would say was that she was misplacing them."
He looks up at me and his eyes are suspiciously bright. It takes a lot to bring out emotion in my big brother but I can see that he's fighting for control. Shame washes over me again.
"I'm sorry. I've let all of you down. And I let you think that our mother was abusing her pills rather than tell you the truth."
His eyes remain on mine as he claps a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay. I promise." He pulls me in for a hug and for a moment, I just allow him to prop me up.
Because I haven't been doing such a great job at that on my own.
After I feel calm enough to speak without crying like a baby, I pull back. "I booked a stay at a private clinic already. Can you drive me over there?"
"Done. Anything you need, you know I've got your back."
"Anything? Because there's someone who has been bothering Rissa lately. I might want us to take a little detour before you drop me off."
His eyes gleam in the semi-darkness. Then he smiles.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RISSA
Daphne bursts into my office. "Did you hear? It's all over the news!"
I look up from my computer. "No, what's going on?"
"TMZ is reporting that Andrew Carrington was attacked over the weekend. Apparently some random thugs beat him up and then stuffed him in a dumpster. But he refuses to identify who did it to the police."
I turn back to my laptop and then pull up a search engine. A few seconds later I have the gossip site up on my screen. I gasp at the pictures of Andy's bruised and bloody face.
"Oh my god."
Tara enters and puts a stack of folders on the edge of my desk. She leans over my shoulder and then averts her eyes. "Hmm. Are you guys ready to go over the bills again?"
I recognize her guilty face. "Tara, do you know anything about this?"
"Why would I know anything about it? Guys who are assholes get beat up sometimes. It's called karma."
Daphne looks as unconvinced as I feel but I decide to let it go. We have work to do. The weekends have always been our time to go over bills and strategize but with everything going on, we've been putting it off. Usually we try to make it fun by ordering pizza but I don't think any of us are in a fun mood today. I pull up our financial software and we all look at the dangerously low bank balance displayed on the screen.
"I can't believe he actually did it," Daphne whispers. "Even after everything, I didn't think he'd actually back out of paying us. What are we going to do?"
Tara recovers first. "We're going to have to pay the girls and I can take a cut this week."
I turn to her. "No, Tara that's not fair. You need your paycheck just as much as anyone else."
"I have some savings,” she insists.
I groan, completely disgusted with myself. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I let my personal feelings for Finn intrude and influence the way I did business. The initial deposit that he paid when we signed the contract will help some but it's not nearly enough to cover the overtime shifts we need to pay out to all the girls who worked so tirelessly to get the second floor of his building ready to occupy in less than two weeks. As angry as I was at him, I should have made sure that we were paid before I confronted him. My impulsive decision might have just cost us our business. We were already on shaky ground and we can't afford to eat this kind of loss.
"It's my fault, so I will be the one who doesn't take a paycheck."
Daphne looks so sad, that I put my arm around her shoulders. She's the most optimistic of us all so stuff like this really takes her by surprise.
"It's okay, Daph. We're going to figure this out. It just means we'll have to cut some of the girls’ hours. I don't want to do that but it looks we don't have a choice."
"I know. It's just that I saw the way he looked at you. I really thought he'd fix it in the end."
We're still sitting in depressed silence when the front door buzzer sounds. Tara hops up. "I'll get it. It's probably just a delivery of supplies."
She returns a few minutes later with a slim envelope. "It's for you, Rissa. It was hand delivered and there's no return address."
I take the envelope. It's not even sealed properly, just fastened with those small metal hooks. I pry them open and then pull out the piece of paper inside. It's a photocopy.
The girls gather around me as I stare in disbelief at the document in my hands. Tara takes the paper from my hands and scrutinizes it. Even once it's out of my hands, I still see the letters in front of my face. It's a certified copy from the county of the deed to a building. To our building.
He comes back with a plastic trash bag. "I can't do that. Emma has lectured me too many times about how you aren't supposed to flush certain things because it'll get into the water table."
"You are so whipped."
"Hell yeah, I am." He takes his hand and sweeps all the pill bottles on the table into the bag and then ties it closed. "I'm not going to dispose of all these bottles yet. Just in case your doctor wants you to wean off of them. But I'll keep them with me. I'll come over and give them to you when you need them."
"Okay." My eyes follow the bag until he stuffs it into the corner of the couch behind him and out of sight.
When he speaks again, his voice is just as shaky as mine. "All this time, I thought it was Mom. Her pills disappeared so fast and all she would say was that she was misplacing them."
He looks up at me and his eyes are suspiciously bright. It takes a lot to bring out emotion in my big brother but I can see that he's fighting for control. Shame washes over me again.
"I'm sorry. I've let all of you down. And I let you think that our mother was abusing her pills rather than tell you the truth."
His eyes remain on mine as he claps a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay. I promise." He pulls me in for a hug and for a moment, I just allow him to prop me up.
Because I haven't been doing such a great job at that on my own.
After I feel calm enough to speak without crying like a baby, I pull back. "I booked a stay at a private clinic already. Can you drive me over there?"
"Done. Anything you need, you know I've got your back."
"Anything? Because there's someone who has been bothering Rissa lately. I might want us to take a little detour before you drop me off."
His eyes gleam in the semi-darkness. Then he smiles.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RISSA
Daphne bursts into my office. "Did you hear? It's all over the news!"
I look up from my computer. "No, what's going on?"
"TMZ is reporting that Andrew Carrington was attacked over the weekend. Apparently some random thugs beat him up and then stuffed him in a dumpster. But he refuses to identify who did it to the police."
I turn back to my laptop and then pull up a search engine. A few seconds later I have the gossip site up on my screen. I gasp at the pictures of Andy's bruised and bloody face.
"Oh my god."
Tara enters and puts a stack of folders on the edge of my desk. She leans over my shoulder and then averts her eyes. "Hmm. Are you guys ready to go over the bills again?"
I recognize her guilty face. "Tara, do you know anything about this?"
"Why would I know anything about it? Guys who are assholes get beat up sometimes. It's called karma."
Daphne looks as unconvinced as I feel but I decide to let it go. We have work to do. The weekends have always been our time to go over bills and strategize but with everything going on, we've been putting it off. Usually we try to make it fun by ordering pizza but I don't think any of us are in a fun mood today. I pull up our financial software and we all look at the dangerously low bank balance displayed on the screen.
"I can't believe he actually did it," Daphne whispers. "Even after everything, I didn't think he'd actually back out of paying us. What are we going to do?"
Tara recovers first. "We're going to have to pay the girls and I can take a cut this week."
I turn to her. "No, Tara that's not fair. You need your paycheck just as much as anyone else."
"I have some savings,” she insists.
I groan, completely disgusted with myself. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I let my personal feelings for Finn intrude and influence the way I did business. The initial deposit that he paid when we signed the contract will help some but it's not nearly enough to cover the overtime shifts we need to pay out to all the girls who worked so tirelessly to get the second floor of his building ready to occupy in less than two weeks. As angry as I was at him, I should have made sure that we were paid before I confronted him. My impulsive decision might have just cost us our business. We were already on shaky ground and we can't afford to eat this kind of loss.
"It's my fault, so I will be the one who doesn't take a paycheck."
Daphne looks so sad, that I put my arm around her shoulders. She's the most optimistic of us all so stuff like this really takes her by surprise.
"It's okay, Daph. We're going to figure this out. It just means we'll have to cut some of the girls’ hours. I don't want to do that but it looks we don't have a choice."
"I know. It's just that I saw the way he looked at you. I really thought he'd fix it in the end."
We're still sitting in depressed silence when the front door buzzer sounds. Tara hops up. "I'll get it. It's probably just a delivery of supplies."
She returns a few minutes later with a slim envelope. "It's for you, Rissa. It was hand delivered and there's no return address."
I take the envelope. It's not even sealed properly, just fastened with those small metal hooks. I pry them open and then pull out the piece of paper inside. It's a photocopy.
The girls gather around me as I stare in disbelief at the document in my hands. Tara takes the paper from my hands and scrutinizes it. Even once it's out of my hands, I still see the letters in front of my face. It's a certified copy from the county of the deed to a building. To our building.
