“What did he do?”
She looks lost. “He made a bad deal and used a large loan from a family friend to do it. When he couldn’t pay with cash, he negotiated another form of payment with the man and my parents. All without consulting me.”
“Negotiated with what?” I ask flatly, feeling anger rising in my chest. I don’t like where this is going.
“Me. He wanted to marry me off to that older widower so he could look like a hero instead of a failed businessman. When I politely refused, he tried to wear me down. He wouldn’t leave me alone. They were all acting like it was a foregone conclusion at dinner when I snapped.”
I take her hand. “Tell me.”
A tear escapes, rolling down her smooth cheek and breaking my heart. “I told them, Joey. About our business. That I didn’t work for you. About the money. My money. That I could take care of all of them without a marriage deal. I told Arush I could have bailed him out if he’d bothered to ask. My mother was on my side until then.”
I squeeze her hand and shake my head. “Shit, Tani. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not finished.” Her expression is grim. “Arush was so angry, yelling that I couldn’t unman him in front of this paragon who’d already offered to invest in another one of his ridiculous schemes. He said I had no choice. That I should be grateful someone wanted me when I’m not even a whole woman.”
That’s it. Next time I see him, I’m going to stab him in the nuts with a spoon. “Am I allowed to bury his body yet?”
Her laugh is watery. “Not yet.”
“How about now?”
“He’s such a hypocrite.” Her fists clench in her lap. “They all are. I thought it was bluster, but he really wanted to force me to marry someone I barely know. Someone he chose. Worse, my parents were acting like I was the one being unreasonable for turning that down. What kind of archaic, misogynistic… I know you weren’t expecting me this soon, but I couldn’t be anywhere near them. Not right now. And you said you wanted me here.”
“I need you here,” I correct her. “And I’m here to tell you, you’ve run away to the right place. In this house, we don’t force marriage on anyone. We ban all forms misogyny and sexism. We have shelves solely for lip balm and, just in case it comes up later, we also don’t judge each other for making a mistake that anyone could have made after too much whiskey while trapped in an elevator with a delectable neighbor.”
“Those are very specific rules, but I think they’ll work for me.” She glances over at cardboard Quinto, who is still leaning against the wall with a good view of our conversation. “I hope he won’t get jealous when M’Baku Winston shows up.”
I love this woman. “They’ll be fine. Both their characters are vegetarians.”
Her smile dims. “What am I going to do now? My parents won’t answer the phone. They always answer their phone.”
I used to think she was being overly cautious when she said she didn’t want to tell them about the company. That the sweet people I’d grown up waving to as I ran through the kitchen to hang with their daughter would be more understanding, even proud of what she’d accomplished. I want to fly back there and shake them until they see how much good she’s done. How many lives she’s made a difference in. How much she deserves to be happy, after everything she’s been through.
I’ll give them a little time to come to their senses. Then I’ll sic Mama Matilda on them. Good luck surviving that.
“We’re going to take the day and celebrate. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to see, smell or taste alcohol for the foreseeable future, so champagne is out of the question.”
“Celebrate?”
I stand up, grab her around the waist and walk her firmly toward the balcony. “My favorite person in the world is finally here. Adventure awaits. You’ve officially come out as my business partner. The T to my J, the peanut butter to my jelly, the one that does all the interviews from now on. That deserves a skywriter, at the very least. Maybe a marching band. I’ll take you to our new office space tomorrow, but first, you need to check out this view. See the sun shining over the harbor and relish the first day of the rest of our lives.”
“You sound like a coffee commercial. And it’s too cold out there for relishing, Joey.”
“It’s bracing.”
She’s trying to pout, but I wrap my arms around her and persist.
“What you feel is the cool breeze of a fresh start, my friend. The kind of freedom you’ve been dreaming of as long as I’ve known you. For the first time in your life, there is no one monitoring and reporting on your every move to your family. You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends beh—”