The Arrangement: Chapter 6

‘I already told you, I don’t have the money.’

I narrow my eyes, a slight tilt of my head as I consider her words. ‘You’ve got quite the tone for someone in your position,’ I say, my voice low, carrying a weight meant to remind her of the gravity of her situation.

“And you’ve got quite the tone for someone barging into my shop demanding I pay you a debt that isn’t mine.”

The air between us crackles with tension.

‘How much do you have?’ I probe further, stepping into the space she’s filled with attitude.

Her resolve falters under the pressure of my inquiry, my directness. My nearness. To my surprise, a tinge of remorse washes over me, seeing the fight in her eyes dim. It’s unexpected, this feeling, and unwelcome in my world where emotions can be liabilities.

‘I’m just about broke,’ she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, the fierceness from moments ago replaced by a vulnerable honesty.

It’s rare for me to feel anything close to regret in my line of work, but watching her, a woman fighting tooth and nail for what she loves, stirs something unfamiliar within me.

‘We need to find a solution,’ I say, the hardness in my tone softened, just a fraction, by the glimpse of her struggle. It’s not in my nature to offer concessions, but something about Tory makes me reconsider the usual paths I’d take.

‘I have nothing,’ she says again, each word heavy with defeat. ‘ Every penny goes back into this shop. I don’t even pay myself. Ty’s the only full-time employee I can afford. I also have a part-timer.”

I glance over my shoulder. The one named Ty is in sight, but the other employee isn’t sitting with him.

This news catches me off guard. I’ve had eyes on her, surveillance that’s told me a lot, but I hadn’t bothered to check the footage from her office recently. The fact that she’s sacrificed personal comfort for her business speaks volumes. It’s a dedication I hadn’t fully appreciated, a grit that commands respect even in my world.

‘The only way I could get close to paying off the debt would be to sell the shop,’ she continues. ‘And I won’t do that.’

Her admission hangs in the air. It’s a moment of raw honesty that strips away the adversarial dynamic between us.

I’m silent for a moment, processing her situation, the depth of her predicament. Selling the shop, her dream, isn’t just a financial transaction; it’s the surrender of her very essence, something she’s unwilling to do. And unexpectedly, I find myself not wanting her to face that choice.

‘There might be another way,’ I say, the words surprising even me. My life, my business, it’s not known for leniency or second chances. Yet here I am, contemplating alternatives for a woman who’s defied me at every turn.

She looks up, hope mingling with suspicion in her eyes. ‘Another way?’ she echoes, searching my face for a sign of what I might be proposing.

‘Yes,’ I confirm, stepping closer, the space between us charged with a new, unexplored tension. ‘We can figure out a solution. One that doesn’t involve selling your shop.’

Her eyes narrow. “Oh. Your other offer. I almost forgot.”

I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get even a word out, an employee—broad-shouldered, with an easy smile—interrupts my train of thought.

‘Hey, are you a new client?’ he asks, extending a hand. ‘I’m Ty, Tory’s best friend and right-hand man around here.’

For a split second, I’m on edge, but his demeanor is far from confrontational. Instead, he dives headfirst into what can only be described as an enthusiastic sales pitch.

‘You’ve come to the right place if you’re looking for a place for your pet. She’s the heart and soul of this place. Hardworking, passionate… she’s incredible.’

I raise an eyebrow, amused by the misunderstanding. ‘Is that so?‘

Ty nods, leaning in as if sharing a well-known secret. ‘Absolutely. You won’t find a better place in the city.”

It’s almost comical, how off the mark he is, believing my presence here to be of a personal nature. Yet, I play along, curious to see where this leads. ‘Really? She sounds remarkable.’

‘Yeah, and she’s got a way with the dogs, and people, too. You’re not gonna find anyone else like her,’ Ty continues.

Our conversation is suddenly cut off by a sharp yelp from the main area, pulling Ty’s attention away. The yelp turns out to be from a chihuahua, its tiny frame shaking as it tries to escape the solitary area, somehow trapping itself in the process. Without thinking, I move toward the frightened animal, driven by instinct.

‘Wait!’ Tory’s voice slices through the chaos, sharp with concern. ‘That’s Mabel. She bites.’

Her warning barely registers, the dog’s distressed cries pulling at me. As I reach the trembling chihuahua, I drop to my knees, speaking in soft, soothing Russian, words from a childhood I keep locked away.

‘It’s okay, little one,’ I say quietly, gently freeing her from her predicament. To my surprise, she doesn’t snap or struggle; instead, she curls into me, seeking comfort.

Turning back to Tory, I find her staring at me, a look of sheer amazement on her face. It’s a moment, suspended in time, where the usual barriers between us seem to crumble.

“Was that Russian?” she asks. I can’t help but smirk, the dog still nestled against me, its earlier panic forgotten.

‘Animals understand kindness, no matter the language.’

Tory steps closer, her gaze lingering on the scene before her. ‘I’ve never seen her calm down so quickly with anyone else. That was impressive.’

The compliment, simple as it is, sparks an unfamiliar warmth.

‘She was scared, that’s all. Anyone would’ve done the same,’ I say, attempting to brush off the significance of the moment.

But Tory shakes her head, her eyes still fixed on mine. ‘Not like that. You have a way with her. Thank you.’