The Couple Next Door(66)

“I owe them a lot of money,” Marco confessed.

“They’re your in-laws. They’re not going to feed you to the fishes if you can’t pay,” Bruce said, looking out at the river.

“Maybe that would be better,” Marco said sourly. Marco explained the hold his wife’s parents had over him—the business, the house, even trying to turn his wife against him.

“I’d say they’ve got you by the short and curlies,” Bruce said, pursing his lips.

“Yup.” Marco took off his jacket, slung it over the back of the bench. It was summer, and the evenings were warm.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could ask them for another loan, tide you over till business improves,” Bruce suggested. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

“I don’t think so.”

Bruce looked him in the eye. “Why not? Don’t be an ass. Just ask. Get yourself out of the hole. Live to fight another day. They’ll want to protect their investment anyway. At least give them the option.”

Marco considered. As much as he hated the idea, it made sense to come clean to Richard, to tell him the business was in trouble. He could ask him to keep it between them, not to bother Anne and Alice with it. After all, businesses failed every day. It was the economy. Things were much tougher now than when Richard started out. Of course, Richard would never see it that way. At least he would never admit it.

“Ask your father-in-law,” Bruce advised. “Don’t go to the bank.”

Marco didn’t tell Bruce, but he’d already been to the bank. He’d put a mortgage on the house a few months earlier. He’d told Anne it was to help the business expand further in a high-growth time, and she hadn’t questioned it. He’d made her promise not to tell her parents. He said they had their noses in too much of Marco and Anne’s business already.

“Maybe,” Marco said.

He thought about it for two days. He slept poorly. Finally he decided to approach his father-in-law. It was always Richard he dealt with when it came to financial matters involving Anne’s parents. Richard liked it that way. Marco screwed up his courage and called Richard and asked if they could meet for a drink. Richard seemed surprised, but he suggested the bar at the country club. Of course. He always had to be on his own fucking turf.

When Marco arrived, he was nervous and downed his drink quickly. He tried to slow down when he got close to the ice cubes.

Richard stared at him. “What’s this about, Marco?” he asked.

Marco hesitated. “The business isn’t doing as well as I’d like.”

Richard immediately looked wary. “How bad is it?” he asked.

This is what Marco hated about his father-in-law. It was all about humiliation. He couldn’t let Marco save face. He couldn’t be generous.

“Pretty bad, actually,” Marco said. “I’ve lost some clients. Some haven’t paid. I’m having a bit of a cash-flow problem at the moment.”

“I see,” Richard said, nursing his drink.

There was a long silence. He wasn’t going to offer, Marco realized. He was going to make Marco ask. Marco looked up from his drink, regarded his father-in-law’s stern face. “Could you provide me another loan to get over this tough spell?” he asked. “We could structure it like a real loan. I want to pay interest on it this time.”

Marco hadn’t really considered the possibility that his father-in-law might refuse. He didn’t think Richard would dare, because what would happen to his daughter then? It was mostly the groveling he’d been avoiding, this moment of having to ask for help, of being in Richard’s power.

Richard looked back at him, his eyes cold. “No,” he said.

Even then Marco misunderstood. He thought Richard was saying no to the interest. “No, really. I want to pay interest. A hundred thousand would do it.”

Richard leaned forward in his seat, hulking over the little table between them. “I said no.”

Marco felt the heat go up his neck, felt his face flush. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t believe Richard meant it.

“We’re not giving you any more money, Marco,” Richard said. “We won’t loan you any money either. You’re on your own.” He settled back in his comfortable club chair. “I know a bad investment when I see one.”

Marco didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t going to beg. When Richard made up his mind, that was it. And he’d obviously made up his mind.

“Alice and I feel the same way about this—we’d already decided to stop giving you any more handouts,” Richard added.

What about your daughter? Marco wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find his voice. Then he realized he already knew the answer.

Richard would tell Anne about this. He’d tell his daughter what a poor choice she’d made in Marco. Richard and Alice had never liked him. They’d been waiting patiently for this day. They wanted Anne to leave him. To take his baby and leave him. Of course that’s what they wanted.

Marco couldn’t let that happen.

He stood up suddenly, bumping the little table between them at his knees. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll manage on my own.” He turned and left the lounge, blind with rage and shame. He would tell Anne himself first. Tell her what a bastard her father really was.