“You should tell him no as I’m not going to buy any grocery chain. The margins are too low.”
“That’s what I thought but my client isn’t one to move on baseless rumors.”
“Well, now you’re a hero because you can tell him that it’s not true and that he should spend his money on something else.”
Redmond bangs his fist on the table. “We agreed that there would be no business talk during the game.”
“He’s right. You two violated the rules. Pay up.” Wright wriggles his fingers. As I’m reaching for my wallet, my phone buzzes.
“Uh uh. Phones are not allowed either,” Wright warns.
“It’s Orchard.” I throw my wallet on the table. “Take whatever you want.”
I open the phone and read the text.
Her: How much do grocery stores cost?
My jaw drops.
“Bad news?”
I gather up my things. “I guess I’m buying a grocery store chain,” I tell them.
Blank’s shocked face follows me as I leave.
You just buying one? I text as I climb the stairs out of Blank’s basement to the front door of his townhome. My bodyman, Jimmy, taps his earpiece to call for the car and hurries to open the door.
Her: Just the one.
Ordinarily, I need a whole proposal and due diligence form but I don’t care if I lose millions on this. I think this is the first time she’s asked me for anything.
Me: Depends on location and size but mostly location.
I’m assuming it’s the one she works at. The town car pulls up. I mouth the word “home” to Jimmy. He slams the door shut behind me and we take off.
Her: It’s the one I work at.
I shouldn’t be surprised she knows this. She did get a business degree. But seeing her rattle off numbers fills me with pride. She’s so fucking smart.
Me: Market capitalization would be around one hundred million then. It’s a small company. You’d need maybe twenty-five percent?
Her: Bummer. That’s what I thought.
Me: Why’s it a bummer?
Her: Because I don’t have enough.
I flip to her bank account and take a look. She’s a few million short. With a few taps, I solve that problem.
Me: You do now.
She doesn’t respond right away and the three dots blinking on my screen send my blood pressure soaring. I lay the phone face down and try not to pretend I’m counting every second until she responds. What seems like a year later, I get a reply.
Her: I didn’t mean for you to give me the money. I can get investors for this.
The hell she will. Taking money from someone else is like letting another man into her bedroom—a place that I don’t even go, for God’s sake.
Me: Either take the money from me or forget about the store.
Her: But if I take the money from you, then you own it, not me.
Me: I don’t care what you do with a grocery store. Buy it and burn it to the ground but you’re not taking money from another man.
Her: I don’t want to owe you! I already owe you too much. I just wanted to know how much you thought it would cost. That’s it!
Me: If you take money from another man, I will lock you in your bedroom and you won’t see the outdoors until you’re eighty.
Her: If you do that, I’ll leave you.
Me: Negative. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. There’s not a place on this damn earth you can hide from me and the sooner you realize that the better.
I’m angry and I shouldn’t be responding but a man can only be pushed so far. Orchard’s my wife and I take that vow of ‘till death do us part’ seriously.
4
Orchard
Negative. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. There’s not a place on this damn earth you can hide from me and the sooner you realize that the better.
I read the words over and over again. They should scare me but they don’t. They should even make me mad but still they don’t. What they do is cause my body and heart to react in a way that I’m not ready to deal with yet. I’m not sure if it’s excitement from poking him a little or something else.
The way that I’m suddenly clenching my thighs together tells me it’s the latter. I set my phone down next to me in order to get some sort of self-control. If not, I’ll continue analyzing my husband's words. That’s the bad thing about text messages, you have no idea what emotion is being expressed by the other person. So it’s left up to you to decipher if they meant the words as happy, sad, sarcastic or whatever else. I sigh, knowing it’s a lost cause.
Tonight is poker night. Heath never goes out except on poker night. I didn't think he would even respond to me when I sent the message. I figured he’d be busy and maybe get back to me at some point. I should have known better. We might not be the closest but if I have a question or try to get ahold of him, he always gets back to me instantly. I pick up my bowl of cereal, shoving a spoonful into my mouth.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you something?”
“No thank you,” I tell Marth. I love her cooking but this is the only night that I don’t have to sit down at the table for dinner. It feels weird to sit down for a meal without Heath. It’s the same thing every time with me. I think that I hate having dinner with him every night until it’s poker night and I feel out of sorts because he’s not here to have dinner with. I don’t know what is wrong with me. It almost feels as though I miss him but we barely speak to each other when he’s here. It’s complicated.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Marth heads out of the kitchen, leaving me alone to finish my cereal. I sit up straighter when I hear familiar steps heading toward me. He even walks with authority. He always carries himself with so much confidence. My thighs clench together again thinking about how sexy my husband actually is. If only things were different between us. If only he’d married me because he loved me. Not for me to be one more of his many possessions.
“I put more money into your account,” Heath says as he enters the kitchen. He stops walking when he sees me sitting on the counter. I swing my legs back and forth trying to be casual so he doesn’t realize how my body reacts to him.
“I don’t need more of your money.” I jump down off the counter. I don’t know why I actually thought about buying the grocery store. It was a silly idea but an idea that started to come to life in my mind. It would be something of my own.
“We’re married. What’s mine is yours.” I peek over my shoulder at him as I set my bowl in the sink. His eyes snap up from my bare legs to meet mine. Was he actually checking me out? I turn, leaning up against the sink. My robe slips off one shoulder. I watch as his eyes follow its path. I have the urge to go to him but I stay put. I don’t know what has changed but suddenly I feel the need to be close to him. His possessive words play on a loop in my mind. I can’t get them to stop. I’m not sure I really want to.