quite.” Davia left her chair and returned to stare out over her view again.
“I was there the day her creditors came calling.”
Davia rounded on him, her expression a mixture of amazement and suspicion. “I think you mean her predators.” The clarification sounded hard as stone.
Kale seemed satisfied. “Looks like we’ve at least got a little information in common.”
Davia turned to the windows again. She didn’t want to cry for her friend in front of this man—this stranger. “So, what happened? How is it you came to own Tella’s theater?”
Kale smoothed his fist inside his palm. “I think you know I don’t own it now.”
“But you did. Explain that.”
Kale took a seat in Davia’s desk chair, appreciating the decadent peach suede encasing every inch of the furnishing. “I was there that day for inspiration for an annex I was building on one of my multiplexes. I was looking for something inviting, quaint... Martella’s theater had what I wanted...what I was hoping to recreate in my spot. That’s all. We weren’t in business, Davia.” He waited, hoping she would turn so that he could judge her expression. There, he hoped to find just a little understanding. When she didn’t turn, he continued.
“I was on my way out for the day. I was in town for a few days and had planned to come back to make a few notes before I left for Miami. I went by her office to let her know that I was going and I overheard her inside with her...creditors. It didn’t take much to get the gist of what was up. The place wasn’t open yet for business. I guess they figured they’d caught her there alone.” He paused as the memory overtook him.
“I was about to go in to break their legs before they could break hers—which was what they were threatening.”
By then Davia had turned from the window. Her gaze was rapt with interest as she absorbed the story. “Did you think you could take them?” She tried to ease her jitters by teasing.
Kale smirked a little. “Not before I got in the office.” He shrugged. “Then I was pretty sure I could, but I also heard her telling them she’d have all the money with interest by the following Monday. I heard the figure, went in there and made a big deal about the place being just what I wanted. Then I made an offer. Forty K over what she needed.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.
“I pretended to be surprised when I noticed her friends,” he went on. “I told her I was ready to transfer money as soon as I saw the paperwork and such. Told her I’d be back with my people later in the week.” He smirked again, the gesture carrying lethal intent.
“The garbage in there with her said it wouldn’t be necessary, that they were on their way out. They left and she broke down, told me everything. The gambling—how deep she was in and to how many people. I wound up padding a hundred K onto what she owed to the guys in her office.”
While Kale talked, Davia sat in a chair in front of her desk. “But what happened? How—?”
“I made the mistake of returning with one hundred and seventy-five thousand in cash.”
Davia closed her eyes and hung her head. “Tella...” she whispered, lamenting her friend.
“Even still, she wanted everything by the book. She would’ve refused the money otherwise. She didn’t want it to look like a handout.” Kale shook his head. “I had the papers in hand the next day.” He left the desk chair. Fist clenched, he slowly paced the area behind it.
“I was an idiot,” he said, his rich voice carrying across the room, “charging in there like that without bothering to think. I should’ve known when I heard how much she was in for that she had a serious problem. I should’ve anticipated that she’d—”
“You couldn’t have anticipated that.” Davia scooted toward the edge of her chair. “She didn’t want help. Not the kind we were trying to give her. Not the help she really needed.” She slumped back then and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I’d been talking to her about selling the theater to me. She wouldn’t even consider taking my money outright when I offered—and it looked like she was even going to turn down my offer to buy it.” Davia let out a soft, cold laugh. “Had I made the kind of gesture you did—padding the offer like that—she probably wouldn’t have accepted that, either.”
Kale’s fierce expression had softened as he’d listened. “Sometimes it’s easier to accept help from strangers than friends. How long have you guys been close?” He came over to take the empty chair beside her.
“Since college.” Davia gave a shaky smile. “When I found out her family was in the theater business, my aunt went with me for a weekend visit.” She closed her eyes in appreciation of the memory. “Such an amazing place...”
“Very amazing,” Kale said.
“That weekend we saw Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” She smiled as she remembered.
“Coppola’s?” Kale queried.
She nodded. “This was several years after the movie originally premiered. Tella’s family was known for doing theme weekends. That weekend all the films were dedicated to the infamous Count and it rained the whole time. The theater had such a cozy old-world style. It was the perfect venue to screen a period piece like that, not to mention all the others we saw. It was a fun trip. My aunt had the best time getting to know Tella’s family and I had the best time getting to know Tella a little better.”
Again, Davia felt tears pressuring for release. Again, she willed them back before she turned to Kale. “Why didn’t you ever say what really happened instead of letting folks believe you—?”
“Because letting them believe that bile was better than the true filth of it. At least, what I saw as being filth.”
“You tried to help.”
Kale snorted. “I’ve wondered about that over the years. Wondered if it was all about me trying to make myself feel better in the moment. Like I’d come to the rescue and been the kind of gentleman my uncle always swore a real man should aspire to be.”
He rolled his eyes. “That was someone I had no interest in being. Women always gave me what I wanted without me ever having to play the gentleman’s role.”
“Gave? Past tense?”
Thoughtful listener indeed, Kale mused. “They still do. I guess somewhere along the way I started having a problem with it.” Suddenly he laughed. The gesture held no amusement. “Had I thought more about what Martella really needed—”
The phone’s shrill buzz filled the room and Davia didn’t know whether to celebrate or curse the interruption. Moreover, she didn’t know what to do with the sudden empathy she was feeling for a man she’d practically loathed for the past several years.
Pushing up from the chair, she leaned over the desk to grab the phone. It was her assistant. “Hey, Maggie.”
“Davia, sorry for the interruption.” Maggie Phelps’s airy voice breezed through the receiver. “Leslie told me you were in there with Kale Asante. Is he as sweet and sexy as
