Chapter 8
Eight
Talia
Walking briskly along the sidewalk, I hug my coat closer as I try not to freeze. "Brr!"
Beside me, Olivia looks up at the steel gray sky. "It’s three in the afternoon, but it might as well be midnight from the look of things." An icy wind whips past as she shivers dramatically.
"It’s definitely going to snow tonight."
"It was your idea to go to this bar instead of doing what I suggested," I remind her.
She gives me the side eye. "You wanted to stay at home and make soup. That’s not really a relaxing, social atmosphere."
I huff out a laugh. "Relaxing and socializing usually aren’t one and the same for me. I generally find those to be total opposites."
Olivia’s lips pressed together. She gives me a long look. "I think it might be less of an introvert issue and more of a personal issue. I know we were both total nerds in college and spent most nights at the library. But it won’t kill you to try something new, will it?"
"I did try something new!" I protest. "The last time that I decided to unwind by drinking a lot, I ended up with Burn, getting hot and heavy in his car.
" I pause, putting my hand up to silence her arguments.
"Listen, I am going to this bar with you. But please, do me a favor and stop me when I’ve had two drinks.
Drag me out by the hair, if you have to. "
Olivia’s face crinkles with a smile. "They have a whole section of mocktails on their menu. You don’t have to drink alcohol at all."
“Now you’re talking,” I say.
We get to the bar, Herbsaint. This place is the opposite of the stuffy, dark, and snobbish Raven’s Head Club.
Here the walls are a crisp white, with light oak furnishings and clusters of white linen covered tables.
It’s like a breath of fresh air, and I look around at the bar patrons, a tiny smile curving my lips upward.
Everyone seems to lean into their conversations.
The sound of muffled speech, and the distant clink of china and glass makes this bar much more approachable than the Raven’s Head Club.
After a polite young hostess waves us on to the bar area, we slide into our seats. I glance around and notice the waitstaff that flits from table to table like a trained team of hummingbirds.
"Wow, this is so different from the other bar," I observe. Looking down at the menu in front of me, I run my fingers over it. And the menu looks so good. "I think I would like to come here for dinner."
In the next moment, I glance at the prices, and I blanch. "Gosh, it is so expensive! I take it back, I could never spend this much money on one dinner. In fact, I don’t see how we are sitting here just for drinks."
Olivia grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze.
"First of all, you deserve something nice every once in a while. Second of all, I’m not letting you weasel out of this one.
I am paying for our drinks. Plus, we might get hungry.
I’ll pay for that too. I just got a raise at the biology lab, and now I am looking to celebrate. "
My brow furrows. "I know I can’t tell you how to celebrate. But I can’t in good conscience drink a cocktail that costs this much. Hope House has a roof that leaks and walls that are crumbling. Every penny that I spend on anything that isn’t a necessity seems like wasted money in light of that."
"But I just explained to you that I am paying for everything today. So, no more feeling guilty about how much money is spent. Okay?"
I run my tongue over my teeth and give her a sour look. "One drink. A mocktail. That’s it."
She picks up her menu and wiggles her eyebrows. "Come on, if you’re just going to have one drink, it better be something spectacular. And then, once you've picked it out, you can tell me all about how Hope House needs a new roof.”
"It does need a new roof!" I say.
"You should order a drink so that you can tell me about it.
" She gives me a little side eye, and then the bartender takes our drink orders.
We both end up with sparkling cocktails, hers is a Cure Royale and mine is a mocktail with tropical flavors.
After we toast to her promotion, I go right back to my concerns about Hope House.
"We need a newer, bigger house that can accommodate more beds. One that doesn’t have the structural problems that our current house has."
"It would help if it were in a better neighborhood and not in a neighborhood that looks like it’s about to break off from the town and float away to drown in the sea."
I scrunch up my face.
"Being so close to the water has indeed taken a toll on the building," I say with a slow nod. "You know, I found out that Remy Morgan owns the whole neighborhood? I saw the mortgage check in the office yesterday, and it goes straight to Morgan Investment Company, not an actual bank. That’s the Morgan family, isn’t it? "
"I think the Morgans do own a bank." Olivia’s eyes narrow, and she looks off speculatively. "I know that they own most of the land that the hospital is on and that whole surrounding neighborhood too."
"Ugh, like they need to own another thing. The Morgans are the main charitable source in this town. But they are also the biggest contributors to our problems as a society. This capitalist stuff completely sucks."
A trace of a smile passes over Olivia’s lips as she takes a sip of her drink. "It’s hard to thrive when you weren't born into money. There are people living among us that want to drain our life savings away a little bit at a time. It’s obscene, really."
I pull a face. "I bet Remy Morgan and his heirs don’t have to worry about anything at all. They just live up there at their huge estate, being smarmy, throwing galas, drinking expensive cocktails, and laughing as they crush commoners with their feet."
"That’s a bit much. But yes, I bet the Morgans do live a different lifestyle than I am accustomed to."
"Getting an audience with Remy Morgan is practically impossible. He has teams of publicists and bodyguards and other people to act as a barrier between himself and the hoi polloi."
"Have you tried visiting his house again?"
I give a cold little laugh. "Not since the other night. It turns out that when the Morgans are hosting a lavish gala, it’s impossible to get past the doorman and armed security guards to see the man himself.
I even tried to show up at a ribbon-cutting ceremony that he had yesterday.
I’m pretty sure that I’m on a list of would-be stalkers now. "
"What about Burn? You said that he made you an offer of some kind."
My lips twist. "He did make me an offer. But it definitely sucked for me. In exchange for reminding him of just what happened the night we hooked up, I get an audience with Remy. But that doesn’t even promise me anything.
Remy could take one look at me and send me away.
There is just no guarantee. It has been a pretty frustrating experience all around. "
"What’s your next plan of attack? Should you take Burn up on his weird offer? Or do you have another strategy up your sleeve?"
I shake my head. "I don’t know exactly. I just know that Minnie says that unless we pay a lot of money to some very bad people, those people are going to come looking for the money.
She said that Hope House could potentially be affected too.
So I’m not sure what to do. The only thing I know for sure is that I have to help Minnie, I have to save Hope House, and Remy Morgan could be the answer to all my problems. If, and it’s a big if, he is feeling charitable and generous. "
"You know, Minnie is your aunt. She’s not one of the kids at Hope House. She is completely capable of making her own decisions and taking care of herself."
"Is she, though? I’m not sure. Apparently she went to a bunch of sketchy loan sharks and asked them for money to save Hope House.
She put up our house as collateral. She’s gotten herself into a situation that looks bleak.
I am wondering now if she should’ve been asked a lot more questions before these people just gave her money. "
Olivia reaches out, putting her fingers gently on my arm. She looks me dead in the eye. "You are not responsible for her. She is responsible for you. You’re her kid."
"Well…" I look away, steeling myself before continuing. "Technically, I’m not her kid. I’m her niece. And she did me a huge favor by taking me in when my mom dumped me off at Hope House and vanished. I’ve been trying to be as quiet and small and helpful as humanly possible ever since I was old enough to be a person.
I’ve tried to model myself after Aunt Minnie, to be as helpful, giving, and generous as her. "
She squeezes my arm again. "I know, Talia. I think you have done a good job of that, given the circumstances."
I exhale a long, shaky breath. "You know, we might have scrimped and saved and counted every single penny when I was growing up. And yes, sometimes we went through really lean times because Aunt Minnie pledged more than we had to give away. But I’ll always owe her.
I mean, how do I repay someone who basically gave up her life for me? "
Olivia sets her glass down and looks at me sharply.
"I know that Aunt Minnie does not feel that way. You live your whole life trying to be small and to blend in with the wallpaper. I’ve watched it happen time and again.
But I think that right now is the perfect time for you to step out of the shadows and form a new, more confident identity.
I think that your Aunt Minnie would want you to do so. "
I roll my eyes and wave her off. "Olivia, quit being nice. You have to sugarcoat the truth for my sake."
"I am not," she says. "I’m telling you the truth."
I stare at her for several long seconds, trying to figure out what her angle is. But when she doesn’t waver, I relent, sighing. "Sorry, Olivia. I’m probably bad company right now. Maybe I should go."