“Do you have any questions?”
Johnny moved. “We have demands,” he said, rejoining the conversation.
“I thought you might,” Beau invited.
“If you don’t meet them, we walk right now.”
Beau folded his hands on the table. “You have my attention. Proceed.”
“We want our half now. Today. And Lola will only do it for eight hundred thousand.”
Beau’s eyebrows shot up. “Eight hundred? You realize that’s sixty percent more than my initial offer?”
“You asked for a counteroffer.”
“I did, but this isn’t a free-for-all. As with any negotiation, I have my limits.”
Johnny shook his head fast. “No. This is the only way we’ll do it. Lola’s worth more than what you’re asking.”
Lola resisted jerking her head toward Johnny only because they’d agreed to come in as a unified front. But bringing Lola’s worth into the discussion was a low blow.
“Not that she has a price,” Johnny backtracked. “What I meant was—”
“I know what you meant,” Beau said. “Tread carefully, though. If you push me, I might pull the offer completely.”
Johnny shrugged with his whole upper body. Under
the table, his leg bounced up and down. “Like I said, she won’t do it for a dime less anyway.”
“Johnny, relax,” Lola said. “You’re starting to sound like my pimp.”
Johnny’s glare at her was brief. Before the meeting, he’d said, “When we get to the money part, let me do the talking.” Sweat beaded on his temple despite the blowing air conditioning. Lola, on the other hand, had goose bumps from the cold. Even she wasn’t sure if he was bluffing.
When she looked back at Beau, he was watching her, not Johnny. “That’s the price you decided on for yourself, Lola?”
“It’s not my price,” she said. Her mouth soured. The word was as dirty as worth. “It’s how much we need to buy the bar. The money is useless to us otherwise.”
“I really prefer you didn’t call my very generous offer useless,” Beau said. “Do you have any concept of how much five hundred thousand dollars is?”
“Yes. It’s less than eight hundred,” Lola said sharply. “You two aren’t the only ones who get to blather about worth. If I’m going to degrade myself, it has to be worth it to me, and that means Johnny and I end up with Hey Joe.”
“Degrade yourself?” Beau repeated. His laugh was hollow. “I’d say you’ve already degraded yourself just by taking this meeting.”
The nerve. Up until that moment, she’d actually thought he was being fairly decent considering the circumstances. Lola pinched her lips together. “That’s not fair. I know you know what it’s like to put a dream before everything else.”
Beau’s smile faded as his face smoothed. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not about money or worth. At the end of the day, Johnny and I are doing this for our future. You killed yourself to make something from nothing—you know what it’s like on this side.”
“Exactly,” Beau said. “You can never understand how hard I’ve worked to get here, and now I’m offering it to you in exchange for one night. Not even an entire day. You should be on your knees thanking me.”
To her embarrassment, she shuddered. The sheer level of her confusion scared her. The more he talked, the angrier she got and the more she wanted to grab his shirt and pull him to her. He seemed to know exactly how to push her buttons, back her into a corner, make her sweat.
“What would you have done in my position?” she asked him.
“Me? Oh, I’ve sold my soul many times over,” he answered. “Now it’s my turn to buy.”
She stood and steadied herself against the table. “You clawed your way to the top, yet you’re still taking advantage of others’ desperation. You’re depraved. I guess it’s true that you can take the person out of the trash, but you can’t take the trash out of the person.”
He tilted his head. “Is that what they say about you?”
“Go to hell.” She didn’t have much dignity left, but she wasn’t willing to give him every last piece of it. “I can’t do this.”
The table was silent. She didn’t wait to see if Johnny would follow. With one last look at Beau, and a moment of wondering what could’ve been had she met him at a different time, or maybe even had he not made his offer, but had come back to the bar a second time—with that last look, she walked away.
As soon as she reached the door and her hand was closed around the handle, though, Beau spoke again.
“A million dollars.”
It wasn’t possible she’d heard him correctly. In her worked-up, jittery state, her mind was playing tricks on her. Beau had no reason to double the amount when he’d been so opposed to eight hundred thousand. She glanced back over her shoulder. Johnny was frozen, his eyes doubled in size.
Beau’s fingers were steepled in front of him and the corner of his mouth curled into a slight smile. “One night. One million dollars. And that’s my final offer.”
7
Johnny cupped Lola’s upturned face. He kissed her forehead. “You look terrible.”
“That’s the plan, isn’t it?” With a shaky inhalation, she put a smile on her face. Johnny had been surprisingly strong since they’d left Beau’s office the day before—for her. She could do the same for him.
“What about the black circles under your eyes?” he asked. “Are they part of the plan?” This time he kissed the top of her head. “You look great to me, anyway. Maybe he won’t think so.”
Johnny hugged her face to his chest. He’d just gotten out of the shower and smelled like soap. His ratty sneakers sat by the front door next to an empty space where she always left her Converse. Usually their shoes came and went together. She tried to look away, but Johnny held her tightly. She couldn’t afford to get sentimental about sneakers. It wasn’t like this was the first night they’d ever spent apart.
“I love you,” she said. Now that the decision had been made, there was a sense of relief between them, and with that they’d made peace. “We’ll get through this.”
“I’d never let you go if I thought differently,” Johnny said. “It means nothing. I’ll go to work like any other night. You’ll come home to me in the morning. End of story.”