The Other Side of Greed by Lily Zante
Chapter Twenty
KYRA
As we get closer to the day of Elias’s fight and our big night, I start to have some doubts as I head towards the storage room to do another check of the inventory.
“What’s up, Lewis?” Brad catches me frowning at my clipboard.
We’ve reverted back to using our surnames like we used to in our early hate-filled days where we barely tolerated one another. It’s not because we’re at odds again, but because it feels safer. Something has changed ever since he saved me from that falling chunk of plaster.
I look up and try to remain calm. “This is turning out to be bigger than I thought.”
He shrugs and throws his hands in the air. “This was your crazy idea.” I ignore his comment, knowing that he always has something negative to say. What we do isn’t for everyone. It takes a certain type of person to want to help those less fortunate than ourselves and Brad clearly is missing that part.
I turn my back to him. “What are you doing here?” I ask. It’s a Friday, and he doesn’t usually come here on Fridays.
“I figured you would need help setting up for tomorrow. Fredrich said you could have double the capacity tomorrow.”
“Did your ‘other’ employer let you have the day off, Hartley?” I clasp the clipboard to my chest and wait for his answer. He’s always so coy about his other interests.
He gives me a smile as an answer. “I have permission to be here.”
“Are you really not going to tell me what you do on your days off?” His concerted refusal to answer my questions makes me even more determined to get to the bottom of it.
“They’re hardly days off.”
“Then what are they?” I ask, digging and prying. He walks towards me until there’s not much distance between us, and I catch a whiff of his aftershave. Only, I wonder if it is aftershave or too strong shower gel. The sharp and refreshing smell of pine takes me to the outdoors and reminds me of woodland hikes. I step back, until my back hits the wall. He angles his head. “You’re very nosy about what I do on my days off.”
My insides twist with discomfort. In that life of his I know nothing about, he could have a girlfriend. Or be married. Curiosity swirls around me, an uneasy dance of things I want to know, but also don’t want to know.
“Nosy? No,” I manage to say, miraculously keeping my voice level.
“No?” He steps closer, his breath is warm and sweet, he’s that close to me. His eyes trail a slow, lazy curve over my face, from my lips to my eyes and back down to my lips again and I rub my bare arms, unsure of where these pesky goosebumps have sprung up from. “You’re not?” he asks, when I say nothing.
I press my lips together, self-consciously. Nervous. Jittery. Excited. “No,” I manage.
“There is nothing to tell.” His voice is low, like a hoarse, sexy whisper.
Sexy?What in the world made me think it was sexy? Aside from it sending shivers darting along my skin. I jerk back, trying to force my back to sink into the wall, and of course I fail miserably, but I’m determined to maintain the upper hand. In the foggy recesses of my brain, it comes to me that Brad always has a presence. He can fill a room with his aura, just by walking in. Something tells me that he’s been trying to slow things down, and this knowing sixth sense of mine suddenly takes this new hint of an idea and runs with it.
Who is he?
I’m growing accustomed to him invading my space. It has a dizzying effect on me, his continued closeness which is both a drug and a danger. I want him, but I’m also afraid. “Are you a drug dealer? A corporate investor? Something else?”
He guffaws as if this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “I didn’t think it was possible to have those words in the same sentence.”
His breath is warm, his aftershave mildly intoxicating. I catch another drift of pine and mint. Or am I overthinking, oversmelling, over imagining? I seem to have become obsessed in such a short space of time. “Can you move back, please? You’re invading my personal space.”
He steps back. Not enough. Not as much as he could have. Or should have. He’s still hovering around the edges of the boundary.
“Better?”
I arch an eyebrow, and give up because I’m none the wiser as to what he does on the days when he’s not at Redhill. I should let it go. We have other, bigger things to think about, and we have a big show to get off the ground tomorrow.
I push away from the wall, smooth down my blouse and clutch my clipboard as if it were a lifebuoy I desperately needed. Brad is like a deep, dark well to me, and I’m scared of falling in and drowning.
“Why don’t you see if Fredrich needs your help?” I suggest. It’s a miracle that I’ve managed to sound normal-headed, because inside, I feel anything but that.
“I will, seeing that you obviously don’t need me.” Brad leaves and now I’ve forgotten what I was looking at before he came by.
* * *
BRANDON
Iwalk away and wonder what the hell just happened. I’m not the kind of guy who makes moves like that but Lewis makes me react. It’s one thing I can’t control, and I’m used to controlling everything.
I spend the rest of the day helping Fredrich. He talks me through the plan for tomorrow and tells me that the crowd could be much bigger than expected. No shit. Like Kyra, he has no idea how it’s going to go. I think they’re being very adventurous with this idea.
I guess it’s not a bad thing to do. I mean, how else are these people ever going to see a fight like this? But, given that this is Cardoza’s hometown, I would have expected the city officials to put on an event for him, something like this—a public party somewhere in the park. Maybe they don’t want to put on an event for homeless people.
Only someone like Kyra would ever do something like that. It reminds me of what I am up against and why I’m going through with this crazy charade.
All over the city, people are getting together in bars and restaurants, throwing dinner parties to watch the fight. One of Jessica’s friends is throwing a party and she asked if I wanted to come. I should have accepted. She’s still trophy-wife material. A socialite with brains and beauty, dressed from head to toe in Chanel.
I told her I was busy working on some bullshit deal I need to take care of. It wasn’t a complete lie because I’m going to travel out of state to have a meeting with a prospective investor. I promise her that I’ll make it up to her sometime.
On the day of the fight, we start earlier than usual. This time, all the factory employees are helping, not just a small handful from the usual food night roster.
Yvette is there with her kids.
Kyra shows up, and she looks nicer than usual. She’s still in her jeans, black skinny ones with boots and a tight-fitting top over which she’s wearing a jacket.
If this is her idea of doing something ‘wild’ on the weekend, that girl obviously hasn’t lived enough. I feel sorry for her.
I volunteer to go pick up the food from the restaurants, along with Fredrich. Kyra has insured me on that clapped out heap of metal on wheels, which roughly passes for a van, and Fredrich is taking his pickup because we have a lot of things to pick up from the restaurants. Everywhere we go, it’s busy on account of it being a Saturday night.
By the time we get back, I’m feeling the tiredness and the night hasn’t even begun. The huge movie screen is up, and the guys from that company are hovering around talking to Kyra.
She comes over and tells us that the tech guys are staying here the entire time in case we have any problems with the screen. At least that’s one less thing to worry about.
“They’re probably also making sure you guys don’t ruin their equipment,” I mutter.
“That too.” She gives me a smile. It’s the first time we’ve acknowledged one another today. Up until now either she’s been busy, or I have, and we’ve managed to stay out of one another’s way.
“People are starting to come in.” Simona’s words make us all turn towards the entrance gates.
“Are they going to stand the entire time?” I scratch my head, because I don’t know how this will pan out.
“They’ll sit on the ground,” Kyra informs me. Sure enough, I see people have brought sleeping bags, pieces of cardboard and blankets, which they start to lay out as if they’re claiming their territory. “Okay.” She claps her hands together. “Let’s get to it. I need you two to work the general area. We have security, but you know these people, and they know you. This looks like a pretty big crowd.”
I look at the crowd and instinctively know that I don’t want to be wandering around and getting too close to these people. “You want us to walk around all evening?”
“Put on the high-vis jackets, and just work the crowd. We have security, so you don’t have to do much controlling of the crowd. Just let them know when food will be ready, make them stand in line.”
“They already know to stand in line.”
Surprise dances in Kyra’s eyes. She surveys me carefully. “What are you scared of? You’ve done this before.”
“Yeah, dude.” Fredrich claps a hand to my back. “I’ve got your back. Don’t worry. These people aren’t going to bite you.”
It’s not their bites I’m scared of. It’s catching something. TB or ... something. Half of these people are probably psychos. It’s one thing being on the other side of the table and serving food, watching from a distance, it’s another to be walking around surrounded by danger with no barrier between us. And now Kyra wants me to walk around as if I’m a server in a restaurant?
Not happening.
“I just ... I like being on the other side, serving. It’s nice, and .... humbling, to give out the food.”
She narrows her eyes at my pathetic excuse, before giving a dismissive shake of her head. “Don’t you want to keep an eye on the crowd and maybe get a better chance to watch the fight?”
“I’d rather serve the food.”
“Do you have a weak immune system or something?” she asks.
“No. I have a robust constitution.” And I’d like to keep it that way. If it was only suspicion swimming around in her eyes, I could tolerate it, but there’s also a look of disappointment. As if she expected better from me.
“Knock yourself out behind the tables then, Hartley.” Then to Fredrich. “I’ll go walk around, with you.”
I remember that I need to make a call. All of this back and forth between Redhill and my office, juggling the two worlds has been jarring. I have an important deal to take care of, and I forgot to sign some paperwork. I need to call Emma and ask her to pick them up from my office and drop them off at my house. “I need to make a phone call,” I say, walking away a I pull my cell phone out.
“Calling your girlfriend, dude?” Fredrich calls out after me.