CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A light misty rain creates a sheen on the windshield. The cab driver turns on the wipers. I scan my phone one more time. The name of the restaurant where Grant is having a business dinner is the last text I received.
“Stop here,” I say when the restaurant La Blanca comes into view on the right side of the road.
The cabbie pulls over and checks his meter tapping on the side rather than giving me a price.
“Can you wait? This won’t take long.”
“Sure, babe, but the meter is running.”
Of course. Story of my life. The meter is always running.
CLARE: I’m here.
I send the quick text and stay in the cab until Grant pokes his way out the front door.
“I’ll be right back,” I say from the cab and make my way across the sidewalk to him.
Taking a play from my own book, I remind myself to stay calm. I need to get the full story from Grant before I jump to any conclusions. The plan was great in the cab, but now with Grant in front of me my emotions war with themselves. I can’t believe my sweet lovable Grant would close down a factory he knows employs a large portion of the families in my neighborhood. The other part of me wants to smack his smug face for being a rich asshole who cares about how much money he’ll make. He fooled me.
There’s no telling which side of me will win out.
Grant stops and tries to give me a hug, but I step back before he’s successful. Touching is not a good idea for him right now.
“What’s up?” he asks stepping under an awning of the storefront beside us. It’s a stationery store with rows and rows of little books and journals for those people with disposable incomes and an intense need to plan.
“What’s up? Why don’t you tell me what’s up? Travis came to the center upset because his dad is laid off. Management at Del Fray told him this morning.”
“Oh man. Travis’ dad works there? I didn’t know.” His left eye squints like the glare from the shop lights bothers him more than what we’re discussing.
“What do you mean? Half the kids who come to the center have parents who work there. I’ve told you this.”
Grant’s lips pinch together. “Yes, but Travis is a good kid.”
“What do you mean Travis is a good kid?” I impersonate his voice. “They’re all good kids.”
“Well of course they are. I just didn’t realize Travis would be affected by it.” His head shakes slightly.
Does he not realize I have a whole center of kids like Travis? “It’s true you’re closing the plant?” I ask, but it sounds more like an accusation…since it is.
“Yes, once we get the technology moved over to one of our other plants. I’m sure we’d be able to find Travis’ dad something new.”
“And what about the other fifty kids whose parents are losing jobs?”
“What do you want me to do, Clare? I volunteer. I donate money.”
“This is their lives!” I throw my hands in the air my voice rising. “It’s more than throwing money at the problem. It’s doing no harm.”
Grant stops, his eyes taking in my full appearance and distraught expression. “Why are you so upset?” he asks with a pinched brow.
“So upset? Grant, this is my life. These kids are in my care.”
“It’s not personal, Clare. It’s business.”
“It’s personal to me!” I yell at him across less than a foot separating us. “It’s personal for Travis. It’s personal to the hundred people losing their jobs.”
Grant unbuttons his suit jacket and then sticks his hands in his pockets. It’s impossible to see the cute funny honorable man I saw yesterday. Tonight he’s the rich uncaring business tycoon I always worried he was.
