Part 2He Stole My Surgery Money

By seven the following morning, I was in the back storage room, cataloging the final crates of non-perishable high-end inventory.

A high-pitched, melodic voice drifted in from the front floor.

"Eliza? Honey? Why does it look like a tornado tore through here?"

I pushed aside the heavy plastic strip curtains and stepped out.

Melanie stood in the center aisle, impeccably styled. She wore a tailored camel trench coat from the current Nordstrom catalog, her wrist catching the fluorescent light with the glint of an eighteen-karat gold luxury watch.

That watch was the exact reason our accounts had come up three thousand dollars short last month—the discrepancy Brett had sheepishly claimed was an "emergency wholesale deposit."

Brett trailed behind her, carrying two artisanal lattes and a box of boutique pastries.

"Eliza woke up in one of her moods yesterday," Brett said smoothly, setting the bakery box down. "Insisted on doing a full inventory reorganization. Don't mind her. Sit down, Mel. Drink your coffee while it's hot."

Melanie cast a disdainful look at the dusty metal stool beside the counter and remained standing. She stepped up to the acrylic barrier, tapping her manicured French tips against the laminate.

"Eliza, Brett mentioned you returned those cases of bourbon yesterday. That feels awfully unneighborly. My dad’s sixty; we have relatives flying in from three states expecting a proper toast."

I met her gaze, silent, letting the heavy quiet stretch between us.

When I didn't offer an apology, Melanie turned her head slightly toward Brett, her lower lip trembling in practiced vulnerability.

"Brett, see? I told you she resented me. Maybe I should just take out an advance on my credit card and buy the liquor myself. I don't want to be the reason you two fight."

The sight of her helpless distress instantly ignited Brett’s temper. He slammed his latte onto the counter, coffee splashing through the lid.

"Eliza, are you struck dumb? Melanie is speaking to you! Get into the back room, find whatever reserve stock of allocated liquor you’re hoarding, and load it into her trunk right now!"

I stood my ground, folding my arms over my chest. "There’s nothing back there. And even if there were, nothing leaves this building without a credit card swipe."

The delicate mask on Melanie’s face slipped, her eyes flashing with cold irritation.

"Eliza, what are you implying? When have I ever stiffed you? Brett loves Toby. Spending a little on his own son's family is basic decency. Do you really have to make everything so ugly?"

A sharp, hollow laugh scraped my throat.

"Decency? You call stealing from my merchant account 'decency'? That watch on your wrist was three grand. Toby’s private piano academy is four hundred a month. Your unpaid condo fees were another twelve hundred. Every single dollar was skimmed off my register while I was breaking my back stocking shelves. Melanie, you’re a leech. Did you honestly believe I’d play the fool forever?"

Melanie took a staggered step back, her complexion draining until she looked genuinely shocked. "Brett... listen to how she talks to me..."

Brett completely lost control. He charged across the floor, his face inches from mine, spraying spittle as he yelled.

"Have you lost your damn mind, Eliza?! You’re auditing my business transactions now?! What I make in this shop is mine to spend! Melanie is raising my son on her own—do you have an ounce of human empathy? A barren, chronically ill woman like you, clinging to cash you can't even use—what are you saving it for? To line your pine box when you drop dead?!"

Every syllable was calculated to tear at the stitches of my dignity.

I took a slow, agonizing breath, my fingernails biting into the palms of my hands to keep from striking him across the face.

"What "you" make?" My voice dropped to an icy murmur. "Brett, from the commercial lease negotiations to the SBA loans to the distributor contracts—which part of this store did you build? Besides sitting on a stool playing mobile games, what have you ever contributed?"

Stung by the truth, his neck veins bulged. "Shut your mouth! I'm the face of this business! Without me, you wouldn't even have the guts to open the doors!"