An Unexpected Debt Page 5

  “What’s with all the boxes?” I ask, gesturing to the stacks. “The other bedrooms are packed up too.”

  Nolan’s eyes drop to the floor, and Cam shoves his hands in his pockets. Nolan’s pretty good for a fourteen-year-old, but his emotions often get the better of him.

  “I don’t want to leave the Mikasa,” he says, shaking his head.

  Cam stares at him with a stare that could kill.

  Shit, shit, shit. My heart races, and my mouth dries.

  Someone has been keeping some big news from me.

  6

  My chest tightens as I reach out to bring Nolan into my side for a half embrace. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. We should eat. Didn’t you hear the call for dinner?”

  He shakes his head as he huffs out a heavy breath.

  “Too much gaming,” I say to him and roll my eyes. “You’ll all fry your brains. Let’s go.”

  My body heats to a million degrees as we make our way through the ship, and I find other more subtle signs of preparation for a move — stacked chairs in the common room instead of the usual array of soft cushions, the storage room open and empty when usually toys and holiday items fill the shelves, and most telling of all, quick patches done to decaying equipment. Mom would never settle for less than excellent unless she had to.

  The boys head into the dining room ahead of me just as Ana and Jukia set the table for the evening meal. Miguel is talking to Mom in the far corner, their voices lowered. Juan comes forward to hug me hello. My hug is less than stellar because anger has turned my body into an unyielding block of clay. He pulls away from me with a frown on his face. Dominic hovers on the other side of the room, unwilling to even acknowledge my existence. Fine by me.

  Ana approaches me first and wraps her slender arms around my shoulders. It’s hard for me not to worry about her. With her heart condition and eating disorders, she’s always too thin and delicate. It’s hard to believe we’re full sisters. We couldn’t be more different.

  “Sky, I hope the Amagi is everything you hoped for,” she says, pulling away and smiling at me. “We followed the reconstruction progress every step of the way.”

  I clear my throat and hope that my voice stays steady. “It’s perfect, of course. Jinzo did an amazing job on it. How are you feeling?” I always ask because I just never know if she’ll be here one day and gone the next.

  “Feeling okay,” she says with a head nod. “I’m lifting weights with Miguel, and my doctor is happy with my progress.”

  “Good,” I say, squeezing her upper arms.

  Everyone else is milling about the table. These people are my family, people I trust. And I don’t put my trust in many people. Normally, I keep everyone at a distance. Hell, I keep them a kilometer away, if they’re lucky. I have only ever let these people and a select few others into my heart. A tickling sensation in my legs crawls up my body and takes up camp in my chest.

  The people I have put my trust in have failed me.

  The room is far away like I don’t belong here anymore. Everyone is keeping a secret. Everyone is hiding something.

  And that makes me boiling mad. I am a furnace burning one thousand degrees. I am a volcano on the verge of exploding. I am the moment before a star turns super nova.

  I slide into my spot to Mom’s right.

  She leans down and places her hand on my shoulder as she brings her lips to my cheek. “Skylar, darling, it’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Mom.” I keep my voice even while we wait for Juan and the boys to be seated.

  As per long-standing Kawabata tradition, we bring our hands together into prayer positions and say, “Itadakimasu,” which is a Japanese phrase that roughly means, “Thanks for this food.” Jukia reaches past Ana to pass me my chopsticks. My chopsticks that I always eat with when I’m home. I heft them in my hand for a moment.

  “We’re so happy to see the Amagi docked with the Mikasa,” Mom enthuses. “It’s been too long since the two ships were together. I can’t wait to come aboard and see all the enhancements.”

  I pick up my bowl of food and mix it up. Jukia has made everyone Buddha bowls tonight — fresh, sautéed vegetables from Vivian’s farm served over rice. She’s left bottles of sauce on the table for people to choose from. The younger boys both grab for the teriyaki at the same time. I snag a bottle of ‘Danger, Danger Sauce’ from Uncle Nuno’s personal collection and wait for the peanut tahini dressing to make its way around.

  “I’m happy to have you come aboard and see it for yourself. I think you’ll be happy with it,” I say, barely containing my rising anger.

  Mom’s smile is slight. “Jinzo Lee is such a talented young man. Good for Vivian for finding someone so perfect for the family.” She nods her head side to side. “It was a little dramatic in the beginning, but it turned out well.”

  “Is that what you consider ‘a little dramatic?’” I ask, dumping dressing on my meal. I push food up into my mouth and chew until my jaw hurts.

  “Well, yes. They were on OEN quite a few times.”

  Ossun Entertainment News is the trashiest vid mag in the Duo Systems. I wince every time I remember Vivian being plastered all over their wretched network. She was only doing her best to get through a really shitty situation. I was tough on her about it in the beginning, but I grew to understand her position.

  “Hmmm, yes, they were. So, how has business been while I’ve been at school? I’m looking forward to taking over the reins in a few months. I have lots of ideas for expansion, and I’m sure you’ll love flying the Mikasa and not having to deal with clients anymore.”

  Mom keeps her eyes on her bowl. “Oh, you know, dealing with clients is not so bad. I think, maybe, we might delay handing over the business to you for a few years, actually.” She produces a smile and looks up at me. “This would give you lots of time to fly with the Amagi, and hopefully, build your network. I know you haven’t chosen anyone yet.”

  There it is. I’m a failure for still being single.

  Silence blankets the whole table. Dominic smirks while looking into his bowl of food.

  That’s it. I’m done.

  “You know what?” I ask, and Mom stops chewing. “I’m sick of people being lying liars.”

  Everyone at the table stops chewing, moving, even breathing.

  “What?” Mom says. She sets her chopsticks down. “Who’s a lying liar?”

  “The person who has packed up her entire ship and is ready to leave but hasn’t said shit to her first daughter about it.”

  Mom’s eyes shoot to Miguel. I raise my finger.

  “Don’t you dare look to him for help or blame.” My voice has the undercurrent of a rumbling earthquake.

  Ana stands up from the table, turns, and leaves the room immediately. Family stress is one of her primary triggers, so I hope she’s going to be okay, but this is not about her, and I will not back down.

  “Skylar.” Mom’s voice is full of warning. “Perhaps we can discuss this without the young ones around.” She and Juan make eye contact across the table, and he nods.

  He stands up and grabs his bowl. “Come on, boys. Let’s go eat together in the game room.”

  Both boys meander away from the table with their bowls, happy to leave the adults and the obvious tension behind.

  Mom places her hands on the table. “We’ve had a little… setback.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “It’s nothing to be worried about. We just need to move things around for a little bit, and I’m sure we’ll be back on track within six months to a year. Then, maybe, we’ll be able to hand the business off to you.”

  “Packing up and moving out is not ‘a little setback,’” I say, pushing my bowl aside. “Start from the beginning or I’m going to really lose my shit here.” My anger has bubbled up to the surface, and now my face is so hot, it could fry an egg.

  Also, I dislike the use of the word ‘maybe’ in that last sentence.

  Miguel holds up a
hand. “It’s like your mother said. It’s just a setback.”

  “Miguel, stop.” Mom places her hand over Miguel’s and turns to me. “Look, I want to clarify that I did everything I could to make this easier on Vivian and you.”

  I close my eyes and curse under my breath.

  “When we gave you and Vivian the Amagi, we figured we’d be just fine. We would continue shipping Kawabata Holdings goods because that’s what the bank wanted to do with the estate. Then we would fall back on our bigger contracts for the rest of our work. But, things didn’t work out that way. The bank let the goods rot in storage on Ossun, and they refused to pay us to distribute them. Then our bigger clients broke off work with us because of the bad press Vivian was getting in the news. We did all we could. We cut costs everywhere. I sold the ships Juan brought to our network. I even sold the Tenryū.”

  Ugh. Mom’s pleasure cruiser? She’s had that ship for over two decades. We used that ship to get around as a family when she couldn’t get away from the Mikasa.

  I push away from the table and cross my arms. “Fuck me. Why didn’t you say anything? We could have done something.”

  Her stare turns cold. “You had your hands full. Remember?”

  How could I forget?

  “We could have gotten you into Flyght,” I insist. “There was no reason to sell the Tenryū when it could have been flown for other purposes.”

  “And who would have flown it?” she asks, sweeping her hand out at the table. “You and I are the only pilots in this family.”

  “You think pilots can’t be hired?”

  “Skylar,” she says again, her voice tipping over into angry territory.

  My belly boils with anger. “The point here is that you didn’t trust me. You didn’t confide in me, your first daughter. I’m the one that’s supposed to take over soon, and now what are you leaving me with? Huh? You’re as bad as Aunt Mayumi. What’s up with your generation keeping things from us?”

  She sighs and closes her eyes. “I suppose that’s fair. But this is still my business and my right to do with it as I please. You are not a part owner. You are not a decision maker. And if this business fails, you can still be an expert pilot with the Amagi.” She drops her voice and grumbles, “You were never going to be anything but a pilot anyway with the way you frittered your education away.”

  “I… I… What?”

  Words have failed me now.

  I look across the table, and Dominic’s stare is ice cold, a note of triumph in his raised shoulders and chin. Oh fuck. What has happened while I’ve been away?

  I pause and try to be the bigger, more empathetic person here.

  I fail.

  “Well, shit. It looks like all those years you told me this would be my business someday, that this would be my ship someday, were a big ruse, a way to keep me in line.”

  Mom opens her mouth, but I stand up.

  “Don’t try to defend yourself. I clearly remember the conversations because of Ana. You made it very clear. I wouldn’t be able to ‘just pilot’ my entire life. I’d have to learn to be a good captain because all this” — I wave my arms at the ship — “would be mine to run.”

  Mom stands up too and raises her voice. “Well, that was before you acted like a spoiled brat and kept giving your dads constant grief and trouble. I know they had to keep you here because you cheated on exams and didn’t follow the rules.”

  I did what? My eyes snap to Dominic again, and this time, his lips curl in a small smile. Jukia, his daughter, keeps her eyes on the table.

  “And then, after all we’ve done for you, after giving you the Amagi, you allowed Vivian to plunder us into debt.”

  No. No way is she going to put any blame on Vivian.

  “Allowed? I allowed her? No, no, no. The person to blame for this is Tomu, not Vivian.” Tomu, Vivian’s brother, was the one who sold the family farm into debt in the first place. Not Vivian.

  Everyone at the table is quiet for a moment. Miguel’s eyes are on his meal. Jukia is staring off into the kitchen. Dominic sits with his arms crossed, staring at me.

  I raise my face to the ceiling. “Why do I have to do everything around here?” I sigh and lower my voice. “This is such bullshit.”

  Because it is. Growing up, I was the one who handled everything on this ship in the place of the adults. In flight school, I told Kalvin and Amira that I was holding the weight of my family on my shoulders, but I never let on how much.

  It’s been a lot more than I would ever admit to.

  None of the dads dares to say anything because they all know what I’ve done for this family. It’s clear, though, that Mom does not.

  Fucking shit. This is a complete nightmare. And now, I’m going to have to fix this too.

  I take a deep breath and let it all out.

  “I’m going to slide by these blatant lies about me for now, but I swear that we’re coming back to them later. So, who is it? Who do we owe money to, and what’s the arrangement?”

  Jukia sighs as she stands up and clears the table. “And I made a chocolate cake and everything.”

  I point to her. “You and me, chocolate cake and wine, in like thirty minutes.”

  She smiles sadly as she heads to the kitchen.

  “The family has to leave the ship,” Mom says. “Most everyone will go to apartments we’ll need to rent or your father’s or brothers’ places. I’m staying here, and I will work for my new boss. I will have to decline any shipping for Kawabata Holdings, too. No more idle time. No vacations. No families on board ship. This ship will be busy with business, one-hundred percent of the time.”

  My head lightens. This is not sustainable long term. Mom will burn out, and we’ll spend every last credit of profit on housing family when we could just house them on the ship.

  She inhales sharply. “I secured a deal to leave you and the Amagi alone. You can continue to fly for Flyght and build a life for yourself, though I don’t believe you deserve it. Hopefully, you’ll find men interested in you long term.”

  That’s a sword to the stomach, and typically, I would take that statement to my room and cry over it for a few hours. She’s got some false version of me in her head, no doubt put there by the very men who were supposed to take care of me. She’s ashamed of me, my lifestyle, and my inability to make long-term relationships work.

  She’s ashamed of me, and I’m ashamed of the way I’ve let others take advantage of me my whole life. Shame, shame, shame. There’s too much shame in my life.

  I steel myself and ask again.

  “Who do we owe money to?”

  She laughs and shakes her head.

  “Takemo Diaz.”

  I narrow my eyes. That name sounds familiar.

  Miguel finally pipes up. “Takemo Diaz of Diaz Waste Management.”

  Waste management? Filthy rich garbage haulers, more like it.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  7

  I thought owing close to five million dollars to the bank was bad? Owing money to some rich asshole is even worse.

  I spend several hours researching Takemo Diaz on the duonet before showing up at his office on Ossun Orbital Station Two. I’m not sure what I hoped to find, but this man wasn’t it. Maybe I had thought he would be some old, rugged, hardened criminal type. But the handsome man with the ten million credit smile and relaxed attitude lounging around the vineyards of Sonoma was unexpected.

  Just like the debt he holds over my family now.

  I sit in the waiting area of Diaz Waste Management’s headquarters and try not to fidget. This is some swanky place for a garbage business. Curving windows look out onto Ossun, rotating below us. The couches and chairs are sleek and stylish. The front desk has the latest tech, with two assistants busy behind it. A coffee bar off to the side burbles with steam next to a refrigerator stocked with high-end bottled mineral waters and snacks. It’s all meant to be the perfect picture of civility.

  I school my features and drape my arm across
the back of the chair, hold my head up, and keep my chin pointed forward. My practiced stare reminds the guy running the front desk I’m here, and I’m not afraid of them.

  I wish I’d had the chance to spend those days at the spa before this happened because I am in rough shape. This morning, I plucked my eyebrows, shaved my legs, and scrubbed my face until it was pink. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail over my shoulder to cover up my ragged undercut and clipped my nails to small blunt squares. My best pair of pants paired with a respectable button-down shirt were all I had to wear that still fits me. It was hard to get this appointment on Takemo Diaz’s calendar; I didn’t have time to go shopping for something else.

  “I’ll take what I can get,” I had told his assistant.

  Of course, he’s making me wait forty minutes past my appointed time.

  Of course.

  The office door swings open, and the chatter of an excited conversation filters out into the waiting area.

  “Thank you all for coming. I’m excited about our partnership and future together,” a man says, bowing to the people leaving.

  I keep my eyes on them because the woman at the head of the pack looks familiar, but I can’t place her. She locks eyes with me, and we stare at each other for a moment before she moves on through the double doors into the lobby.

  “Sir, your four o’clock is here,” the assistant says to the man left standing at the door as he’s delivered a cup of coffee.

  I hold my breath. It’s Takemo Diaz, and shit, he’s even more stunning in person.

  He looks at his watch. “Yikes. It appears I’m running behind.”

  He smiles as he sips at his mug of coffee and lifts his eyes to look at me.

  Christ. This man is… well, he’s hot. No, wait. He’s handsome. And young, too. I think I read that he’s around my age or a little older. His three-piece suit is pressed to impress, his face is rough with a short beard, and he’s swooped his hair up on top of his head.

  He smiles at me like he knows me, and I suddenly feel naked. His attention is disconcerting, but I don’t let it faze me. I’m a strong, independent woman, and I’m here to figure out how to get my family out of the trouble it got into without my oversight.