text: “Luke, we can’t afford a second car.” Tara whispered into her cell phone as she made her way to the meeting. “I don’t have money for it. Do you have money?” “Sure, throw that in my face.” “We can’t get a second car until you get a job again.” “I can’t get a job without a car.” “I got to go.” “Yea, yea, yea. You’re at work. You’re important.” “Luke.” He hung up. Tara wondered what he would be like when she got home to the apartment that night. Would he be the angry man? The crying boy? The drunk? Well, they were both drinking too much lately. The wine was killing her stomach since most of her day-afters were workdays. Tara was the last to arrive at the meeting. She sat herself and her boss began. “We liked to thank you, Mr. Patel, for your initial contract with us. We’d like to review how you thought the import went under our arrangements and what sort of future opportunities we might explore between our companies.” Mr. Patel nodded a few times, then shrugged. My boss, Lacey, looked over his reaction and then she smiled. “Mr. Patel? Perhaps you could elaborate on that thought? How did you think we performed?” “I was not as impressed as I thought I would be.” “We heard no reports of excessive damages or shortages. The shipments were within the timeframes we agree on.” “Yes, yes, they were. But, I don’t know, I thought I would be more impressed.” There was a long silence. Lacey was stone. Mr. Patel smiled at her. A weird little condescending smile. Lacey stood up and tapped my arm to join her. She walked out of the meeting and I followed like her puppy who wanted to go back to see if they’d offer me a bone. “What happened?” Lacey shushed me until we got into her office and she closed the door. “He’s full of crap. We’re not going to be doing business with him.” “Why?” “He’s a bad faith dealer. We hit all his targets and now he’s playing coy like we’ve got to court him to the alter all over again.” “Why?” “He wants a discount from here on. He wants faster service. He wants a deal. He wants to hold court. He doesn’t like doing business with women. Who cares?” “How do you know?” “Experience. I’ve been on treadmills with guys like that. Round and round and you’re not making any distance. He's not a client we can live without, he’s a client we have to live without.” “So, we don’t even negotiate?” “There was nothing to be gained in that meeting, only things to be lost.” “Well, maybe he’ll get the message now. And if he comes back to us, we can ask for more money the next time?” “No, we can’t trust him now. Oh, he might offer us more, but then he’ll find another way to get the money back. You think he wouldn’t report shortages that never happened? Damages? I won’t trust him. Do I think he’ll get the message? No. Our message was we gave him our best. Almost no damages, no shortages, everything on time, and that’s how he treats us? Bye-bye.” When Tara got home to the apartment Luke greeted her at the door. “I’m sorry.” He had made dinner and it was on the little half table in the dining area of their one bedroom. The lights were low and the candles were lit. “I’m sorry, Tar. I know we can’t afford a second car. And, actually, it wouldn’t have been my car, anyway. You’re driving my car. Because it’s still in my name, like the insurance. I know, you’re paying, but it’s still my car. I am looking for work. You know, every day I think about our situation. I worry all the time. I know, it’s been eight months. I’m applying. I am. I know, you think it has to do with that soft skills stuff. But, you know, soft skills is just a smile and a pretty face and that’s not what employers are looking for when they go to hire a guy like me. Anyway, I know, you’ve told me not to call when you’re working, but it was a decision that had to be made by both of us. The car I found was a great deal. I think you would have really liked it. But I get it, we’ll kiss that one good-bye, because you don’t think we can afford it. Just means when I am working, we’ll have to pay twice as much for another car. But I get it. Not now. Not until you say when. You’re working so you’re in charge. It’s not a partnership until I have a job, too. We’re equals, but you’re just a bit more equal right now, because you have a job. You know, there’s a lot of times I don’t think you even appreciate what I’m going through. Like, I am trying. I am really trying. It’s not easy for me. Like it’s easy for you. You know how to talk to people. You’re used to all that paperwork, and handshaking, and crap. And you know, some of the people you work with are just being nice to you because they want to hit on you. Like, you know that, right?” Tara stood up and walked out of the apartment. She stopped in the hall, then went back in and put the car keys on the little table. She walked out again for good. The next day at work Lacey stopped by Tara’s desk. “We don’t have a dress code but that blouse looks a little big on you.” “It’s my sister’s.” “Changes at home?” “No, just what I wore yesterday.” Lacey smiled. “No, I mean, has your situation at home changed?” “Yes, can I take some time? I have to change things at my bank, too.” “Of course. Do you need an advance?” “Yes, but don’t let them send it until I fix things at my bank.” “Call when ready.” In the following days Luke called Tara’s sister’s house repeatedly trying to contact Tara, and was told not to call. Luke even came to the sister’s house twice, but her sister’s husband got him to go away. One day, Tara’s sister handed her the phone. “I’m not talking to him. There’s nothing to say.” “It’s not him, this guy says he’s your former landlord.” Lacey answered to hear Luke had thrown all her belongings off the balcony onto the apartment front lawn below. The landlord was asking her to come get them. “Oh, they’re not mine anymore. I left them. He can do what he wants with them. Well, the clothing you can donate, and anything else he throws away. No, I’m not coming for them. I not coming back there for anything. Well, if you call the police, I think they might end up talking to Luke, and then they’ll find out he threw the stuff on the street, and then they might arrest him. It’s not my problem, Mr. Foster. I have nothing to do with the rent. I don’t live there anymore. I gave a deposit when we moved in, I’m not asking for it back. Well, talk to the man who lives there. Thank you for being my landlord, Mr. Foster, and good luck with everything.” It was two weeks later in the middle of the day that Luke stood outside the office building Tara worked and started shouting. “You think you’re better than me!” He screamed from the sidewalk. Security had stepped outside and stood on the office property but could not order Luke off the sidewalk. He was badly dressed, unwashed, and carrying a white plastic shopping bag that held ladies’ underwear. Tara’s underwear. Underwear that she had left with everything else she had abandoned when she walked out. Of all the things of hers he had thrown off the apartment balcony he must have saved these. “Tara! Tara! These belong to you. Come and get them.” Luke dangled them in front of the guards. “Do you recognize these? Are there other guy she works with who have seen these?” One of the security guard stepped up and started giving Luke belly bumps to provoke him, but he wouldn’t take the bait. He ducked around the sidewalk dodging the guard and screaming at the office. Traffic slowed and people gawked. Her boss, Lacey, was away from the office that day. Tara went down to reception. The receptionist met her. “I think that man is shouting for you.” “Yes. He is.” “I think he needs help.” “Yes. I’m sure he does. But I’m not the one to help him.” “He brought something for you. Do you want me to get it?” “No, that’ll only encourage him.” “Should we just let the guards handle it?” “Sure.” “What if he comes in?” “I don’t think they’ll let him. But if he does, he has no business here. So, use your discretion. I’ll be in my office.” “What do you think he’ll do?” “I don’t think about it anymore. I only know what I do. I’m going back to work.” Though it shook her inside, Tara returned to work. She never knew what happened next with Luke, and she never asked anyone. Four days later she left the office to get some lunch. Dining alone was becoming one of her favorite past times. She felt so independent and grown up when she treated herself. She was two blocks from the office, and about to cross the street to the tea house when she felt a hand on her arm. “Stop it!” she turned and hissed. It was Mr. Patel who held his hands in front of himself defensively. “I’m sorry. I recognized you. I just wanted to speak with you for a moment. A moment. You want coffee? We go for coffee?” “What do you want?” “Please, please. Your boss, she is difficult. Yes? I think you - you could do anything she can do. Yes? I think you could. You could do these imports, couldn’t you? All the arrangements? You know how. You work for me, you make more than she pays you. You can do what she does, can’t you?” Tara looked at Mr. Patel. Then she turned and walked away, crossing the street.