Dana wanted to confront Greg, but she needed to wash off, so she went and had a bath first. She stewed there in the steamy water, and when she was done, she washed and dressed in a robe and stormed into Greg’s room.
“You have a lawyer’s number in your phone That’s the man who contacts me when Mr. White has something to say,” she said. Greg was lying on the bed, reading a book. He set it aside.
“I wanted to help you.”
Dana ground her teeth together. She had expected him to lie, and she was glad he hadn’t, but she was still mad.
“I didn’t want that help from you,” she said.
“So what? Why does it matter? I have the money; I could help you.”
“You control me here. In bed. Not out there.”
“It’s not about control!” Greg said. “I just wanted to help.”
“If the business can’t make money, then it dies!”
“And then what would you do?” Greg asked.
“Start a new one! Get a new job! I don’t know, but I don’t want you sinking money into a failed cause for me. I don’t want to owe you,” Dana snapped.
“I’m just trying to help someone I care about. It’s not about owning you.”
“I don’t want your help, and I don’t want this,” Dana said, and she stormed out, still in the bathrobe.
Greg called her three times that night, and twice again the next day. And then he stopped. The few things that she had left at his place came by way of UPS the next week. She didn’t hear from him, and Dana felt sad.
On a Monday, Dana was at the sex shop when the door opened and a large man in a cheap suit came in.
“What can I help you with?” Dana asked.
“You must be Dana,” the fat man said. He was bald with a thin mustache that looked ridiculously out of place on his bulbous face.
“I am,” Dana said, unsure of who the man was.
“I bought this store. I was told about you,” the man said, and then he introduced himself as Michael Weathers.
“Oh,” Dana said, shaking his sweaty hand. She found herself surprised that Greg had sold the Treasure Chest. She supposed that meant the relationship really was over.
“I’m afraid I’m going to change course,” the man went on. “This place is the perfect spot for a buffet. I’m a restaurant man, you see. I did want to offer you a job, though.”
Dana respectfully declined, and that day was the last day in the shop. Michael stuck around, and on her way out, after waiting on a few customers and taking her last paycheck, she stopped in the center aisle and took a black strap on to the front, where the fat man stood waiting for the keys.
“Mind if I take this?” Dana asked. “For old times’ sake.”
Michael surely thought the request weird—his face showed that much—but he nodded and allowed it, and after she handed him the key, Dana went through the door for the last time.
Within a few days, she had been hired at a small store that sold overpriced knickknacks to women stopping off of the highway, and life seemed as though it would get back to normal. That night, on her second day at the new store, though, Dana returned home to find Greg waiting for her in the parking lot.
“What do you want?” she asked, and the man couldn’t help but smile.
“I love you,” he said with a shrug as she stopped in front of him. They were standing next to his cherry red sports car.
“Don’t,” Dana said, holding a hand up.
“I wanted to tell you. I can’t stop thinking about you. The…duality you have, the…I’m just…”
“Intrigued?” Dana finished for him.
“In love,” he said instead. He reached out to take her hand, and the young woman let him.
“Come live with me. I miss you. I love you.”
“I told you not to buy my shop.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to do it all on my own.”
“I wanted to help. I think I already knew I loved you.”
“The worst part is I think I love you too,” Dana said. “Or at least I did, but now…I don’t know. I trusted you. I told you I didn’t want your help.”
Greg sighed and held his hands up. “I sold the place, you know.”
“I know. The guy came by a few days ago.”
“You found a new job?” Greg asked her.
“Yes,” Dana said.
“You like it?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Open a new shop. Not a sex shop, but something.”
Greg was nodding. “I could help you, if you wanted. Or not.”
Dana sighed. “Why are you here?”
“I want you to take me back,” Greg said.
“Why would I do that?”
“I sold your shop, to make it right.”
“You shouldn’t have bought it in the first place,” Dana said. She was growing tired of the argument, but she found herself yearning to ask the man to come inside, yearning to pull him to her bed.
“I gave all of the money to charity,” Greg said.
“Which one?”
Greg laughed. “A lot of them.”
Dana couldn’t help it. She threw herself forward, into his arms, and he wrapped those arms around her. Their lips met, and he backpedaled. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a finger to his lips.
“Shut up,” she said. “Take me inside and fuck me. Oh, and I’m in charge this time.”