The VIP Room (39 page)

E
mma went
on another round of interviews the following day. She was discouraged. She’d been almost positive the guy at the grocery store would call, but he didn’t. And when she walked into her last interview of the day, she found out why.

“You showed up.”

“I’m Emma Allred. I have an interview scheduled—“

“I know who you are.” The woman stared at her over the length of her desk. She was the head of personnel for a local department store. Emma was interviewing for another cashier’s job.

“Is there a problem?”

The woman snorted. “If I had people calling all over town, warning perspective employers off of me, I think I would have a big problem.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, gripping the back of a chair as her head began to swim. “What are you talking about?”

“We got a call this morning. This person said that if we hired you, we would regret it. They said you were uneducated, unprofessional, and hot tempered. They said if we hired you, we would lose key investors.”

“I see.”

“You’ve made yourself a serious enemy, Ms. Allred.”

“I suppose I have.” Emma turned, her shoulders almost too heavy to hold up.

“Where are you going?”

Emma paused, her hand on the doorknob. “I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

“Well, it’s my time to waste, isn’t it?” There was a look of determination on the woman’s face as Emma turned to face her again. “I don’t like to be threatened.”

A small seed of hope ignited in Emma’s belly as she took a seat and settled in for the interview.

E
mma felt
like she was being watched as she made her way home. She stopped once, bent to tie a shoe that didn’t have laces, and looked behind her, but she didn’t see anything. Still, she felt the hair’s on the back of her neck stand as though someone was breathing too close to her.

She made an elaborate dinner that night, complete with fresh baguettes and a chocolate cake for dessert. When Sophie came through the door, dragging her feet as she had been doing for days, she looked on the spread with suspicion.

“What’s going on?”

“I got a job.”

“Really?”

Emma gestured to the couch. “See what you think.”

Sophie turned and squealed when she saw the full length, red gown Emma picked up at the department store at half price. When the cashier heard she’d just been hired on, she gave her another twenty-five percent off, so the dress was practically a steal. Sophie snatched if off the couch and held it to herself, dancing around with the skirt outstretched like a proper lady at a fancy ball. Emma laughed, glad to see the color blossom on her sister’s cheeks. She only wanted to give her everything.

“There’s nowhere to put your pump, but I thought we could sew a pocket inside of the waist, or maybe get one of those pouches that lady at the doctor’s office told you about.”

“We can work it out.”

“Your sugars were good today?”

Sophie groaned. “Don’t ruin it, Em.” She twirled one last time. “I’m gonna go try it on.”

Emma turned back to the stove, checked the stew to see if it required any more seasoning before she left it to simmer. It was perfect. She settled the lid on it and wandered into the living room, flipping on the television to see if Sophie’s favorite show—something about little liars—was on tonight. As she was flipping through the channels, she saw a familiar face on the local news.

“Dante Caito, CEO of DJC, Inc., announced the acquisition of several new properties on the east side of the city today. Caito did not say what these acquisitions would be used for, but business insiders suggest he might be planning a renovation of the area. This would not be the first time DJC, Inc. embarked on a renovation project in the cities in which they do business. Last year, they renovated an entire section of downtown Decatur where they had, the year before, located one of their regional offices.

“This news comes on top of DJC, Inc.’s announcement that Caito plans to unveil his company’s next project at next week’s technology expo downtown. Large crowds were already expected to attend the expo, but this announcement has led to an increase in projected numbers…”

Emma stared at the television, at the images of the boarded up diner and her apartment building, at the face smiling from a stock photo behind the newscaster. She knew that face. Not the smile. But she knew those green eyes, that olive skin. She could hear his voice grating at the back of her mind.

You will regret this.

It was the business suit from the diner. The man who suggested he could buy and sell her a million times over, that he could ruin her life without lifting a finger.

She felt a sensation, like cold water rushing over her body.

It suddenly all made sense.

It was him. He was doing this to her. He bought the diner. He bought this apartment building. It was probably even him who had someone call all of her prospective employers and warn them not to hire her.

Why? Why would a man like that bother with a girl like her?

The picture disappeared as the newscaster moved on to another story, but it was still burned in Emma’s mind. She didn’t understand. But she was determined to get some answers.

E
mma tossed
and turned all through the night. By morning, she was more exhausted than she’d been when she first went to bed. She showered, let cold water wash over her body and work out the knots that called her shoulders their home. When she was done, she called down the hall for Sophie, then dressed in the dark slacks and white oxford that would be her uniform at the department store.

“Come on, Sophie,” she said, kicking her door open with her foot. “You’re not going to have time to eat at this rate.”

“Not hungry.”

“Need to eat anyway if you want to avoid a midmorning low.”

Sophie groaned, still dressed in nothing but her bra and panties. “I can’t find my t-shirt.”

“Which t-shirt?”

“The black one.”

“That really narrows it down. You have about a hundred black ones.”

Sophie ignored her as she bent low to search through a pile of clothes that were a mixture of clean and dirty jumbled together on the floor. As she bent, she pulled her pump off the bed, smacking it against the hardwood floor.

“Soph—“

“It’s fine,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the device’s screen before standing and shoving it into her bra. “I drop it all the time.”

“That’s good to know,” Emma said, trying not to point out that the thing cost more than two thousand dollars, that Sophie would have to go back on shots if she broke it, and they would have to wait for a replacement. Thank goodness for warranties…but this warranty was five months short of expiring. Now would not be a good time to break it.

“Come over here and eat.”

Sophie groaned, but she did as asked, gobbling down the toast Emma had brought her so fast that she was a little worried she would choke on it. Emma opened her mouth to remind her to give herself a little extra insulin to cover it, but Sophie tugged the insulin pump out of her bra and did it before she could put voice to words.

Somehow, they managed to find Sophie’s shirt—it turned out to be a graphic tee with the logo of her favorite band on the front. If she had told Emma that, she would have found it a little quicker. And then they rushed out the door, both of them late for class by the time their feet hit the sidewalk.

“Have a brilliant day,” Emma said, kissing Sophie’s cheek before sending her off in the direction of the high school. Then she turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction. It was as she turned that she caught something out of the corner of her eye. A dark vehicle, tall and ornate, too nice for her neighborhood. She glanced back and, sure enough, it was there, cruising slowly along the side of the road. The sight of it caused a little chill to run down the length of Emma’s spine. She quickened her step, deciding it was better to mind her business and get to work as quickly as possible.

But then he pulled up alongside her.

“Dirty little building,” he said. “Probably be doing the neighborhood a favor by taking it down. Would be better as a parking lot. Or maybe a strip mall. What do you think?”

She didn’t miss a step, didn’t bother to look at him. But she could feel his gaze on her and it was like a magnifying glass on an ant. It felt like it was burning a hole in the back of her head.

“I warned you that you would regret crossing me.”

He gunned the engine on his car, but didn’t take off right away. It was like a lion warning his prey he was coming.

When he did go, it was with a squeal of tires, a real masculine show of dominance.

Like he thought he was getting the last laugh.

E
mma borrowed
Martha’s laptop computer that night, using it to do research on DJC, Inc. She wanted to know everything she could about the company that took her livelihood and was trying to take her home. There was a lot to comb through. DJC was a conglomeration consisting of so many diverse companies that Emma was lost only a few minutes in. They had their thumbs in everything from real estate to financial planning to software development. It was like everything that was current, that was a hot money maker, they were involved in some way or another. There were pictures of their various real estate development projects online, including neighborhoods they renovated from rundown, sad communities to hip, bohemian places young couples found interesting. She could see how they might be interested in the building where she lived, but…

Why was it so personal? Why was he targeting her?

As she surfed through the wide array of information available, she came to a short biography of Dante Caito. His parents were Italian immigrants who came to America when they were newlyweds, opened a bakery and turned it into a profitable, little business that allowed their only child to attend the college of his choice. It was while attending Stanford that Dante met his first business partner, Charlie Todd, and started a small software company whose sale would provide Dante with the money to start DJC, Inc.

It wasn’t much of a bio. It didn’t give any details of his studies, the motivations for his choices in life. And it didn’t give much information on his private life, beyond the brief history of his parents. It didn’t explain why he was such a rude jerk or why he was so determined to ruin a girl who was already about as close to destitute as a person could get. After reading it three or four times, Dante Caito remained as much a mystery to Emma as he was before she found it.

She sat back, frustration burning in her chest. She had to talk to someone who knew this guy, had to know what she could do to stop this persecution. Surely there was something she could do—a letter of apology or a discussion of restitution—that would make him stop, that would, perhaps, convince him not to evict her and all the other people who made the building their home. She was struggling. And she knew her neighbors were, too. If this was really about her, maybe she could convince him to let them stay. There was an old woman on the first floor, she had no family and survived on her social security checks. Where was she going to go when her lease was up?

It was insane. She had to find—

And then she remembered the young woman he was with that day in the diner.

“
E
xcuse me
.”

The blond turned, a mask of indifference on her face until she recognized Emma. And then it melted, turning into concern. Deep concern.

“You shouldn’t be here. If he sees you—“

“Why is he doing this?”

The woman glanced over her shoulder at the stone and steel office building behind her. DJC was carved on the large stone above the revolving doors, leaving no question for those entering its bowels where they were going.

“Please, just explain to me what’s going on.”

The woman focused on Emma, a whole array of emotions dancing through her eyes. Emma caught sadness and regret, thought she saw a little guilt, too.

“He wasn’t always like this,” she said softly. “I’ve worked with him for nearly ten years. He used to be a good man.”

“What did I do to make him do this? Do you know he’s having me evicted from my apartment? And he tried to keep me from getting a job.”

The woman’s eyes dropped. “I know. He made me make some of the phone calls.”

Emma stepped into her, pushing her shoulder a little harder than she had intended. “Then don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

The woman looked her in the eye, was at least honest enough to do that much.

“You stood up to him, told him what you really thought of him. No one has done that in a long time.”

“I called him a jerk, and that gave him the right to ruin my life?”

“He’s trying to prove a point. Once it’s proven, he’ll probably back off.”

“What about my apartment building? What about all the other, innocent people who live there?”

She shook her head. “It’s scheduled for demolition on February 1. There’s not much anyone can do about it now.”

Tears filled Emma’s eyes.

“Just like that, he ruins all those people’s lives.”

“Be happy he stopped with that one building. It could have been worse. He could have sought out your parents and foreclosed on them. Or your high school sweetheart. I’ve seen him do it.”

“It’s like he thinks he’s God.”

“Oh, honey, he doesn’t just think it. He knows it.”

E
mma walked for a long time
, trying to decide what to do next. Reasoning with him clearly wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t go to the police because he wasn’t doing anything illegal—which seemed kind of outrageous all on its own. Ruining someone’s life should be illegal, no matter how a person went about it.

She wondered how many times he’d done this before. How many people were made homeless by him just because they said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing in front of him? It must be frightening to be his girlfriend. Imagine if the girlfriend didn’t pay enough attention to him, didn’t stroke his ego as often as he wanted her to. Imagine what he could do to someone he knew well as opposed to how colossally he was ruining Emma’s life when he knew absolutely nothing about her.

She didn’t envy the people in his life.

Lunch hour over, she went back to work. It was an easy job- kind of boring, really. But she had enough time on her hands that she could do some studying between customers. And her supervisor didn’t mind, which was a definite plus. For the first time since she started school two semesters ago, she was completely caught up on her reading assignments.

Today she was working math problems for her calculus class until a customer came up with a load of men’s dress shirts. Emma looked up and found herself staring at the same newscaster who’d reported on DJC, Inc. the night before.

“Hi. Did you find everything alright?” she asked.

He was still piling shirts on the counter, so he didn’t answer. Emma glanced over at her supervisor, but she was busy with another customer who just happened to walk up at the same moment. Emma wasn’t too worried, she’d figured out the computer system pretty quickly. In fact, she was kind of glad the woman was out of earshot because she didn’t want her to hear Emma breaking one of the main rules she’d set forth at the beginning of her training: never discuss anything with a client that doesn’t revolve around store merchandise.

“You’re the anchor from the channel seven nightly news, aren’t you?”

He looked up, annoyance in the gesture until his gaze fell on Emma’s face. His expression softened as his eyes took in her rounded face, mahogany-colored hair, and the hint of cleavage under the top button of her shirt.

“I am.”

“I thought I saw you last night, talking about that businessman, Dante Caito.”

“That was me. You watch the news every night?”

“I’m afraid not.” Emma flicked her fingernail against her book. “Too much studying.”

“Too bad. It can be quite educational.”

“Yeah. I learned a lot about Caito from your report. I actually live in one of the buildings he bought on the east side.”

The newscaster’s eyebrows rose. “Do you?”

“Did you know that his project is displacing sixteen families? And that one of them is a family with two disabled children?”

His eyes stayed fixed on her eyes. “The company hasn’t arranged any sort of compensation?”

“We’re all renters. Law doesn’t require it.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Disabled kids, huh? Maybe I’ll suggest one of our reporters check into it.”

Emma slid his purchases into a bag and handed it to him, a smile on her lips as she allowed their fingers to touch.

“Thank you.”

T
he story hit
the airwaves the following day. Everyone in the building was talking about it. There was hope in their faces when Emma came home from work. It gave her hope, too. Until, of course—

“What do they mean, everyone’s getting evicted? Does that mean us, too?”

“Sophie—“

“Where will we live? What about our stuff? How are we supposed to take all this stuff to a new place? And will I have to change schools? I really don’t want to change schools; all my friends are here. I have plans with Jill over spring break that I refuse to miss out on.”

“Sophie, it’s not a done deal, yet. And if we have to move, I’ll try to find us a place close to here so you don’t have to change schools, okay?”

“I don’t want to move. I’ve already moved enough.”

“I know you have. And I’ll do my best.”

She just wished she knew what that was.