Chapter 1

On the day we settled the annual accounts, I stopped by Ironbridge Row as usual and ordered tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

"Callie, this one's on the house," Marla Dunn said. "Same as always."

Her brother Wade grabbed my wrist.

"On the house? Why the hell should it be on the house? Marla worked her ass off to build this business. Not so you could eat for free."

A second later, he threw the entire bowl of soup over me.

He looked pleased with himself. "You think knowing a few people in the management office gives you the right to mooch off us all year? Well, here's how it's going to work. You're paying for this meal. And that cut you take every year? That ends now."

The other shop owners joined in.

"Callie, Wade could have put it better, but he has a point. We need to talk about that percentage."

"We're the ones who built this street up, one business at a time. We can't spend the rest of our lives living by a lease we signed ten years ago."

I looked at their familiar faces and suddenly smiled.

Ten years ago, this had been a derelict factory site nobody wanted.

I'd bought the land, paved the roads, connected the water and electricity, and put in the sewer lines. Only then had they had places to open their shops.

I wiped the soup from my face.

"If none of you want to pay, don't."

That day, every tenant received a notice:

[Lease terminated. Vacate within three days.]

...

Soup trickled down my temple. A piece of bread crust clung to my coat collar.

Dunn's Corner had gone silent.

Wade stood in front of me, raising his voice. "Let me make this clear. You're not walking out that door until you pay for your meal."

I wiped my face and looked at him.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He scoffed. "Yeah. Standing up for Marla."

He turned toward the counter. "Don't let her scare you, Marla. All she's got is a few connections in the management office. She acts like everyone owes her something, then comes in here day after day to eat for free. We work our asses off running this place. We don't owe people like her a free ride."

Marla went pale.

"Wade, stop talking nonsense!" She turned to me. "Callie, I'm so sorry. Really. He's only here to help out. He doesn't understand..."

At the next table, someone murmured, "Isn't he the brother who got divorced, moved back in, and doesn't pay rent?"

Wade caught Marla by the arm.

"You think running this place is easy? And you're still feeding her for free? She's been here three times this month. I saw every one of them. Never paid a cent. A meal doesn't cost much, but this isn't just about food. She's treating you like you don't deserve any respect."

Marla froze with her cleaning rag in midair.

I watched her without speaking.

I had been there three times that month.

The first time, her drain had backed up in the middle of the night, flooding the kitchen with sewage. I'd called a plumber and got him out there that night.

Just before dawn, Marla had served me hot soup.

"I'll pay you back for the plumber a little at a time, Callie. Have something hot first. You must be freezing."

The second time, a customer had refused to pay, then accused her of serving spoiled food and threatened to report her to the health department.

I'd come over, helped her retrieve the security footage, and contacted the district's management supervisor.

That day, she'd pushed a bowl of soup toward me.

"If you hadn't come, I don't know how I would have cleared this up."

The third time had been three days earlier.

A shipment of flour had arrived damp. The supplier refused to take responsibility, and the payment deadline was approaching.

I'd gone through the delivery slips and receiving records with her, page by page, then accompanied her to recover the money.

She'd served me soup that day, too.

"You came all this way to help me, Callie. I don't have much to offer. Let me at least get you something hot. Same as always."

And that was only this month.

When she'd first opened the shop, I'd let her defer the first year's rent. I hadn't required a utility deposit, either.

For ten years, she'd said the same thing.

"Callie, this one's on the house."

Now her brother had thrown hot soup in my face and called me a freeloader.

"Marla," I said. "Is that what you think, too?"

Her lips parted. "Callie, I..."

Wade stepped forward.

"Don't go soft on her again. How many meals have you comped her over the years? If she had any shame, she'd pay you back. Every last cent."

Marla lowered her head. She wouldn't meet my eyes.

Whispers started around the room.

"So she's never paid? Not once?"

"All dressed up, but too cheap to pay for lunch."

Wade drew confidence from the murmurs.

"Fifteen dollars. Cash or card?"

I didn't move.

He sneered. "What, you can't spare fifteen bucks? Or have you been getting free meals so long that paying for one feels beneath you? Marla's a soft touch. That doesn't mean the rest of us have to let you walk all over our family."

Marla finally looked up.

"Callie, maybe you could just pay for today?" Her voice was barely audible. "Everyone's watching. A scene won't do any of us any good. Pay for the meal, and we can put this behind us. It's only lunch. It's not like you can't afford it..."

I stared at her.

"So you think I've been taking advantage of you."

She looked away.

I nodded, took my card from my coat pocket, and tapped it on the reader beside the counter.

Beep.

Fifteen dollars. Paid.

Wade lifted his chin. "There. That wasn't so hard. I don't care who you know in the management office. You eat, you pay. That's how it works."

Marla stood beside him. She didn't say another word in my defense.

I put my card away and stood.

"We're settled, Marla. And from now on, we can forget the old arrangement."

Panic flickered across her face.

Wade laughed. "About time. Stop holding old favors over her head. This is a small business. We can't afford to keep feeding you."

I glanced at him, then turned to leave. There was no point explaining.

His voice followed me.

"Wait."